A resounding slap echoed through the starry void, a crisp and pleasing sound as a heavy palm struck Jin Tai Jun's face.
"You… dare to humiliate me?!" Jin Tai Jun staggered, blood trickling from her lips, her face ashen. The last time she endured such shame was when the Holy Emperor still reigned.
For ages, she had been domineering and unyielding, her cultivation granting her supremacy, looking down upon the mortal world. The Holy Emperor's rise had shattered her arrogance, yet she could only seethe in silence against his overwhelming might. And now, his subordinates dared to treat her the same.
Jin Tai Jun's eyes blazed with fury, her aura seething with murderous intent.
"Humiliate you? For disrespecting the Holy Emperor, you've already earned your death!" declared Ning Yu, the Saint Emperor's Palace's foremost general. Clad in golden armor, he radiated heroic valor.
An orphan raised by Lin Tian Fan, the Saint Emperor himself, Ning Yu had been nurtured and taught the ways of cultivation. To him, allowing anyone to dishonor the man he revered most was unthinkable.
Boom!
Another slap hurtled toward Jin Tai Jun, like a collapsing sky, its power immense. A Supreme Being's strike could annihilate starfields spanning billions of miles.
Jin Tai Jun roared, her body aglow with shimmering runes, her blood qi blazing as she tried to resist. But eight Supreme Beings encircled her, their combined might sealing her movements. Helpless, she could only watch as the slap landed squarely on her face.
Slap! Slap! Slap!
The sound of relentless strikes filled the air. Unthinkable—a Supreme Being, in full view of all, was being slapped repeatedly. The spectacle would shock countless souls if word spread.
Jin Tai Jun's head spun, her face a bloodied ruin, mist spraying from her wounds, several teeth knocked loose. The scene unfolded mercilessly. Rival factions of the Jin Clan watched with glee, while others couldn't help but pity her wretched state.
How could the Holy Emperor's followers remain so formidable, even after his fall? Jin Tai Jun thought, dumbfounded. This was beyond comprehension.
This ordeal ensured her reputation would lie in tatters, her last shred of dignity gone. She would never again hold her head high—not while the Holy Emperor's Palace endured.
Spectators stood agape, yet the message was clear: though the Holy Emperor had fallen, his Palace remained a titan among the Nine Heavens' elite. None could trifle with it. Most understood now—befriend them, never oppose them. This was an immortal orthodoxy, unshaken by the loss of one man.
The Feng Clan's ancestor, watching silently, rejoiced inwardly. Thank heavens I held back. Had I acted first, I'd be the one suffering now.
Desperate, Jin Tai Jun sent covert pleas for aid, hoping to rally allies against the Holy Emperor's Palace. She felt her life slipping away under their onslaught. In truth, the eight generals could have slain her long ago. Though none had reached the peak of the Supreme Being Realm, their synergy and formations could fell even an Extreme Supreme.
The Saint Emperor's death had left them grieving, their fury seeking an outlet. Jin Tai Jun's defiance gave them the perfect target—a chance to vent through a thorough thrashing before her execution.
"Take that, you old hag!"
The slaps continued, each one ringing out as the generals took turns. Jin Tai Jun's face was a grotesque, swollen mess, unrecognizable as human.
Finally, Wang Chang Sheng stepped forward. "Fellow daoists, enough. Spare her!"
The Wang and Jin Clans were allies, long bound by friendship. The Wang Clan couldn't stand idly by as she faced death, lest the Nine Heavens become the Saint Emperor's Palace's domain.
"Spare this filth? She's a blight on the Nine Heavens. Best to end her!" The generals ignored him, their slaps unrelenting. Wang Chang Sheng lacked the authority to command them, and his own reputation was hardly spotless.
Jin Tai Jun, despairing, knew escape was impossible. She frantically sent messages, even pleading with Meng Tian Zheng, the only one who might sway the generals and save her.
"Spare her for now. Let her atone by fighting at the border, slaying enemies," Meng Tian Zheng finally spoke. Jin Tai Jun had sworn that when the otherworld invaded, the Jin Clan would lead the charge.
Slap!
One final blow sent Jin Tai Jun hurtling across the cosmos, crashing through countless stars before coming to a stop. Her once-proud and regal bearing was gone, replaced by a bedraggled, defeated figure.
Ning Yu and the others relented. Meng Tian Zheng's words carried weight—he was a senior the Holy Emperor respected, both mentor and friend. Before his tribulation, the Holy Emperor had instructed his Palace to follow Meng Tian Zheng's lead.
"Senior Meng, we'll take our leave. Should you need us, send word to the Holy Emperor's Palace!"
The eight generals departed, carrying a bloodstained golden cauldron. Though cracked, its spirit remained, capable of restoration. Bathed in the blood of an Immortal, it shimmered with radiant light, already beginning to mend itself. Given time, it would become a complete Immortal Artifact.
In the Nine Heavens and Ten Lands, Immortal Artifacts were rare, countable on one's hands. Relics of the Immortal Ancient era, they were each clan's foundation. In an age when no Immortals emerged to oppose the otherworld, these weapons would be indispensable.
___
In a desolate stretch of the Border Wasteland, a woman in snow-white robes glided through the barren expanse. Her movements were ethereal, her eyes gleaming with a divine light, like a fairy stepped from a painting, her grace unmatched.
Yet this radiant, jade-skinned beauty wandered a perilous land, searching anxiously for something.
"It should be around here," she murmured, her voice like chiming silver bells, enchanting and clear, stirring the heart.
She seemed a sprite, utterly out of place in this scorched, ominous region. Her presence was sacred, her beauty transcendent, yet a sly glint danced in her eyes. This was a woman of many facets—sometimes aloof and serene, like a divine lotus or a descended immortal; other times cunning and lively, a mischievous little devil.
"Where did that guy run off to? So what if he failed to ascend to immortality?" she said lightly, as if becoming an Immortal were trivial. Astonishing words.
Hum!
A faint tremor rippled from an Immortal Bell imprint on her body, as if conveying a message. Her eyes flared with golden light, mystic runes swirling as she gazed in a specific direction.
Any onlooker would have recognized this as the Martial Dao Heavenly Eye, a rare and awe-inspiring feat. This youthful woman had achieved what many titans could not.
"Well, I found him! Who'd have thought he'd undergo such a thorough nirvana, reborn as an infant!" She smiled, her lips curling with a peculiar expression.
Hundreds of miles away, in a mountain cave, she spotted an Immortal Cocoon rooted within, veiled by arrays. But her Heavenly Eye pierced the concealment.
Reflecting, she murmured, "Then again, with such grave wounds, surviving at all is a miracle."