"As long as those bonds remain, she isn't uncontrollable."
Lu Jingming concluded.
"The power of a first-rank god—especially with the unknown threats ahead—is precious. We can't waste it. And you cannot strike her down. So what we must do is not destroy—but… control."
"Control?"
Qian Renxue frowned slightly. "She's so proud and obstinate. How would she accept control?"
"Simple."
A knowing curve tugged Lu Jingming's lips.
"Crush her head-on. Use absolute strength to make her clearly understand her power is not invincible. Her madness and obstinacy are meaningless before real power."
He understood Bibi Dong's nature deeply.
Bibi Dong's specialty was forbearance.
After Qian Xunji violated her—such a humiliation—she endured, even bore Qian Renxue. She waited until Qian Xunji was gravely wounded, then bared her fangs and took revenge.
What does that show?
That weighing the situation, preserving strength, and waiting for the moment are instincts carved into her bones.
Lu Jingming's tone carried calm command.
"She's mad now because she believes she can crush everything—act as she pleases. When we display strength far surpassing hers—when she sees resistance only worsens outcomes, even endangering the few she cares about—she'll be forced to 'calm down' and revert to the Bibi Dong who knows to endure. She'll temporarily sheath her edge and obey orders then accumulate power in the shadows, waiting for the next chance."
"And what we must do,"
he looked at Qian Renxue, eyes sharp and confident,
"is ensure that chance never comes. Make obedience a habit. I'll let her see a power she cannot resist. Each attempt will be mercilessly suppressed—until she learns… to judge the situation."
Qian Renxue listened to his cool—almost cold—analysis, tasting mixed feelings.
She had to admit his read of Bibi Dong was chillingly accurate.
It was the most realistic way—and the one that preserved Bibi Dong's life.
Forcing a mad god's behavior through absolute might sounded arrogant, but from Lu Jingming it carried a compelling authority.
She drew a deep breath. The confusion in her eyes was replaced by resolve. "I understand. We'll do as you say."
For true unity, the longer future—and to let Bibi Dong live another way—this step was necessary.
Lu Jingming nodded, gaze drifting to the distant, still-raging god-war. He said softly:
"Prepare. I'll show her that her era of running wild is over. And you, Sister Xue, will be crowned—the sole sovereign of this continent."
…
At the mountain's edge, the battlefield had become a deadland of gods.
The sky was webbed with cracks, exposing chaotic void currents. The ground looked gnawed by an unseen giant—abysses and scorched earth interlaced; the air reeked of post-annihilation ozone and the Rakshasa's chill.
At the center, Bibi Dong, draped in Rakshasa regalia, near-fused with her avatar, swung her scythe—each stroke a soul-rending shriek.
Purple-black divine power surged like boiling tides, battering the trio.
Jingyuan, atop the Lightning Lord, unleashed golden god-thunder into chains and spears, crashing against the Nether Rakshasa's purple blades. Each clash burst thunderfire, throwing the heavens into flicker.
Xiao Wu flashed like lightning. Blue divine power condensed into tangible fist and leg shadows, lashing Bibi Dong's flank like a storm—her attacks agile and lethal, prying at gaps in the Rakshasa power.
Most troublesome to Bibi Dong was Electrolux in Huo Yuhao's body, who avoided close combat. From a slight distance, his ancient chant never ceased.
Pure, deep necromantic power would become massive bone bulwarks to block the Calamity Hex's blood sigils, or call forth countless pale bone spears laced with holy light from impossible angles. Balanced, measured—yet suffused with the stillness of death—the power strongly restrained the Rakshasa's evil divinity.
"Barrier of Extinction."
Bibi Dong snarled. An invisible field locked space, trying to limit Xiao Wu's speed.
But Jingyuan's Lightning Lord roared, summoning nine heavens thunder. A mountain-thick pillar of lightning crashed down, blasting ripples and a gap in the field.
Xiao Wu slipped through in a flash and hammered a waist-bow strike—condensing all her power—into the Rakshasa Avatar's shoulder, making it stagger.
"Begone!"
Bibi Dong backhanded a Purgatory Ghost Hand, purple-black claws tearing space toward Xiao Wu.
At the last moment, Electrolux's staff struck earth. A Wall of Sighs—runes etched, formed of countless wailing soul phantoms—rose. The claws scraped it with tooth-aching screeches, and both dissolved.
The four-way melee thundered without end.
Purple-black, gold, blue, ash-white—four colors of divine power flashed, intertwined, and annihilated, plunging the world into chaos.
Shock rings spread in layers. Distant peaks were shaved flat, and bottomless trenches plowed the land.
The two sides were temporarily even—locked in brutal attrition.
Bibi Dong was strong, but facing three godly foes of distinct powers growing in synergy, her furious strikes were neutralized again and again, draining her.
At the peak of stalemate, a sudden change.
Without warning, a sharp report split the sky—like a billion birds shrieking at once.
A bolt of white lightning laced with mercury-blue hues speared down at mind-breaking speed, like a godly javelin through heaven and earth. Ignoring the chaotic melee, it aimed unerringly at the core—Bibi Dong's back.
Too fast—too vicious.
Where it passed, space did not rip—it electrolyzed, as if the rules composing space itself were decomposed by the force.
Before the bolt struck, its raging electromagnetism made the Rakshasa armor on Bibi Dong's back sizzle with strain. Purple-black plates showed fine, circuit-board-like scorch marks.
"What?!"
Bibi Dong's full attention was on the three before her. This ambush from the blind spot was timed to perfection.
She barely managed to sweep the scythe back and pour power into her armor.
"Boom—crack!!"
The white bolt smashed into the scythe's haft.
No explosive blast—rather, a deadlier, high-frequency annihilation vibration.
The scythe shuddered violently. Bibi Dong felt an indescribable force—laden with decomposition and magnetic storm—like countless red-hot needles shooting from the scythe through her armor and stabbing into her body.
"Pfft—!"
She spat purple divine blood, staggering forward like a severed kite. Her Rakshasa power stalled; even the towering avatar dimmed and blurred.
The attacker's form appeared in the lightning—the Demon Empress.
Beneath the shattered whale-bone mask, her white eyes held no emotion—only greed.
She didn't even look at Jingyuan and the rest. With one strike landed, she gathered a second, mercury-and-thunder claws raking for the back of Bibi Dong's unguarded neck.
Strike the sick—take the life.
In that split second—
"Insolence!"
A cold, majestic cry rang as if from the ninth heaven.
A pillar of pure, warm, resplendent gold fell like a sword of judgment, precisely between the Demon Empress and Bibi Dong.
As it struck, holy fire bloomed, purifying all evil and taint.
A faint sacred hymn echoed, soothing the turbulent energy.
The Demon Empress's unstoppable electromagnetic lightning met the golden pillar—and sizzled like snow under blazing sun, quickly melting and dissipating.
The Demon Empress grunted, forced back several steps by the surging divine power. Doubt flickered in her white eyes for the first time.
The golden light faded, revealing Qian Renxue.
She held the Angelic Sacred Sword. Six great golden wings spread behind her. Vast angelic might surged like the sea, standing against the Demon Empress's electromagnetic field and forcibly partitioning the chaotic battlefield.
She stood before the flagging, blood-lipped Bibi Dong, eyes coldly fixed on the ambusher.
"Despicable!"
Qian Renxue's glare was icy. She might vie for Bibi Dong's power, but she would not watch her be slain by a sneak attack.
Behind her, Bibi Dong was mired in unprecedented turmoil.
Half-kneeling, she wiped purple blood from her lips. Her violet eyes were filled with disbelief, humiliation—and a sprout of emotion even she couldn't parse, like wild grass bursting through stone.
She… was saved?
And the one who saved her… was Qian Renxue?
The daughter she had long ignored, despised, and treated as a stain on her life?
Staring at that upright back before her—radiant with pure light and warmth, power contrary to her own Rakshasa evil—yet now her stoutest bulwark—
A strange emotion strangled her breath—tangled weed of long-standing hatred, pride shattered into shame, and that deeply buried, nearly denied blood-bond twisting around her heart.
She opened her mouth—rebuke for meddling?
Or—
At last, she only bit her lip hard, forcing down the churn and leaving only thicker madness and chaos in her eyes.
This being saved struck her harder than any attack.
The Demon Empress's sudden ambush and Qian Renxue's intervention pressed pause on the battle.
Jingyuan's Lightning Lord drew back the thunder; Xiao Wu slipped lithely to Electrolux's side; Electrolux halted his chant, ash-white necromancy subsiding. All three watched the uninvited guest and the newly arrived Angel God with wary appraisal.
Silence fell—punctuated only by residual crackles and the hiss of healing space.
Into that hush, a calm voice sounded—as if whispering by each ear.
"King of Conquest."
Three simple words made the Demon Empress—recently driven back—jolt.
Her white, pupil-less eyes snapped to the source, shock barely hidden beneath the broken mask.
Not far away, Lu Jingming had appeared with Jingliu, Gu Yuena, Xiadie, and Liuying.
They had arrived without a ripple—as if they had always been there.
Lu Jingming's calm gaze fell on the Demon Empress—deep, detached, all-seeing.
"Leave."
He spoke again—no command in tone, yet brooking no refusal.
"Leave this world. Return to where you belong. Your enemies are there—not here, where you waste your strength."
The Demon Empress frowned.
King of Conquest.
That was her title as the Third Seat of World Serpent.
This identity was an absolute secret—known only to the core. No outsider should know.
How does he know?!
An uncontrollable thought—was he also of World Serpent?
A Seat?
Her eyes flicked over the two at Lu Jingming's side.
Jingliu—merely standing there—made her skin prickle. That pure, ultimate sharpness triggered primal warning.
Gu Yuena—pressed on her with bloodline oppression—more than Jingliu did.
Each one's presence overshadowed even true gods—Angel Qian Renxue and Rakshasa Bibi Dong.
The threat they posed was tangible—far deadlier than the others present.
Weighing took but an instant.
She was mad, ruthless for revenge—but not witless.
In this situation, she had no chance. To persist would be folly.
She gave no reply, didn't look at the others—only stared a heartbeat at Lu Jingming, as if to etch him into her soul.
Then lightning flared. Mercury hair lashed. She became a white bolt that ripped the void—vanishing without hesitation—leaving only a faint ozone-burnt scent to mark her passing.