Chapter 410: Lord of the Crown, A Peerless Battle!

They made a killing this time.

Both of them shared the exact same thought.

Shock painted Shen Youran's face. The item before her was every bit as astonishing as the God's Candidate Ticket.

Going strictly by its text description, it was obvious what kind of bloodbath this thing would unleash if it ever surfaced in the outside world.

It could restore anything short of a Deity at the end of their path.

That scope was terrifyingly broad.

If someone had nothing left but a severed head, could it restore them? Could it restore lost lifespan? What about the Chongming Wings she had brought out earlier? Or a damaged divine artifact? Or perhaps—

A shattered Deity?

"Hurry up and put it away."

Shen Youran didn't hesitate, shoving the glowing sphere directly into Yan Jing's arms.

No one knew if an item like this might draw the covetous gaze of some monstrosity. The Surface World wasn't as peaceful as it seemed; Yueyin's layout just happened to resemble a historical city.

In the neighboring regions of Beast Lord and Tianzi, Shen Youran knew of territories completely overrun by humans on the Inner World Pathway. They were literal hellscapes on earth, indistinguishable from parts of the Inner World itself.

"We're rich, we're rich, we're rich!"

Once Yan Jing stored the sphere away, Shen Youran rolled around on the sofa in pure excitement. A moment later, she conjured a box between her palms with a secretive grin and placed it in front of him.

"Ta-da!!!"

Inside the open box sat a white laurel crown.

Though stark white, it wasn't carved from jade, but bone. Its cut surfaces held a rough, gritty texture, and it was stained with mottled spots of blood—droplets of dark blue liquid, flaky patches of deep crimson, and beads of pitch-black fluid resembling teardrop moles.

The intertwining bloodstains of various colors seemed to record every battle this crown had ever seen.

[Item Name: Bone: Laurel Crown] [Quality: Silver-Red]

[Tier Requirement: Fifth Tier]

[Effect: Donning this crown grants invincible courage and an absolute thirst for victory. Earning the acknowledgment of a bloodstain allows the user to unleash the final technique of the blood's original owner. This was one of the reasons the crown's original master was unmatched in the world. By paying a certain price, the crown's original power can also be unleashed.]

Description: The legacy left to this world by a great entity who had nearly become a Deity. He was born in battle and died in battle. 10,942 victories, 1 draw, and the suppression of five eras—this was his lifelong combat record. 'Emperor of the Five Eras' was the title he held at his end. To him, victory was more important than life itself. When he died, everything he was condensed into this crown. But be warned: only when you defeat "him" can you wield "his" power. Victory! Victory! Forward! Forward!

"This is the Sixth Rite of one of the divine paths my father researched. The quality might not be that high, but—"

Shen Youran seemed a little embarrassed, her smile tight and awkward.

"I love it."

Yan Jing spoke gently, his eyes locked on the crown.

If he remembered correctly, the absolute limit for the Sixth Rite was red quality. That meant this was a Ritual that broke past the limit.

Even with the enhancement of the Ritual Blessing Coupon, it could only reach silver, just like Moonlight.

But that was only because all his previous Rituals had grown ahead of the curve.

He was more than satisfied, and he genuinely loved it.

Besides, from Shen Youran's perspective, Moonlight was supposedly only red quality, so she had absolutely nothing to apologize for. Even if this was just a transaction, he was the one racking up a debt to her.

"Let me put it on you," Shen Youran offered on a sudden whim. She picked up the crown and stepped behind him.

Yan Jing sat down in a nearby chair. A moment later, she gently placed the crown atop his head.

It felt entirely weightless. The crown instantly floated just above him, dropping threads of cascading light.

Flashes of imagery rushed past Yan Jing's eyes. A majestic figure stood with his back to him, towering between heaven and earth. The opponents facing this man changed one after another: a sky-piercing giant, an ethereal Exiled Immortal, a glowing near-Deity bathed in halos—yet the man himself remained an immovable mountain.

A pitch-black halberd. Black robes. With a single slash of the heavy weapon, the opponent shattered into a drop of blood that sank into the man's brow.

And so it went, year after year, generation after generation, era after era.

His opponents grew stronger and stronger, and he grew older and older.

Until the final time.

The figure standing across from him now radiated an aura even stronger than his own.

Swathed in immortal mists, the newcomer wore a righteous blue scholar's robe. His long hair was tied high, and his face was calm, neither arrogant nor submissive.

The old man's aura wasn't weak by any means, but it carried the undeniable twilight of old age.

Compared to his youthful opponent, he lacked the vibrant pride of spring and the spirited fire of youth.

"Senior, you have blocked this path for too long," the young man spoke softly. "It is time for it to end."

"I know you wish to reach the end, but... fortune has not favored you."

The young man spoke with tact. There was no mockery, none of the arrogant shouting that previous challengers had brought before him.

He was simply stating a fact.

In truth, the old man knew this young man's name and all of his deeds.

He was the brightest genius of this generation. He had risen from nothing, known for his kindness and unyielding integrity. Even his defeated rivals had nothing but heartfelt praise for him.

The old man also knew he had obstructed this path for far too long; the world had long suffered under his shadow.

As long as he failed to become a Deity, no one else in the world could take that final step.

His reputation was already ruined, and he genuinely lacked the confidence to defeat this youth. His best choice now seemed to be stepping aside, letting the young man walk the divine path.

Yet, after several seconds of silence, he finally lifted his heavy halberd and pointed it at the boy.

"Only by defeating me can you walk this path."

A sigh drifted into the wind, and an unprecedented battle erupted.

They fought until the sky went dark and the earth shattered. The flow of the sun and moon was thrown into chaos, and the rhythm of all living things broke under the warped timeline.

For three full years following this battle, not a single cloud formed in the sky above that territory.

As for the outcome of the battle.

It was a draw.

His halberd pierced the young man's chest, while the young man's sword sank into his throat.

It was a fight without a winner. It was also the single battle in his entire life that he did not win.

After this clash, heaven and earth wept. People walked out of their homes in city after city, sobbing uncontrollably.

But not a single tear was shed for him.

He didn't care, though.

He had never cared about such things from the very beginning.

He only wanted to win.

Yan Jing slowly opened his eyes, a river of stars seemingly flowing within his pupils.

Looking around, he realized he had entered that pitch-black void.

Snap—

As if a spotlight had flicked on, the boundless Great Curtain lit up once more. Nine dazzling stars slowly orbited, their light dividing the land. Thousands of bizarre domains unfurled in sequence, showcasing the myriad forms of life.

Indescribable figures materialized behind the Great Curtain.

They appeared much brighter this time. In the past, dark shadows had consumed the bulk of their forms, but now, the mosaic-like darkness had receded, revealing the majority of their true appearances.

"He's here again. He didn't disappoint; he arrived just as fast as before."

"You newcomers better line up properly, otherwise, hmph—"

"I just came to see if it's really as miraculous as the rumors say—"

"Exactly, as if anyone cares. So what if he's a genius in this backwater place? The last time could have just been a fluke."

Before the speaker could even finish, he was subjected to a vicious beating.

The ones who lashed out were the hot-tempered entities who had personally witnessed Yan Jing's abilities. He had already proven he could send people beyond the Great Curtain, so they absolutely refused to tolerate any dissenting voices.

It was practically sabotage against their unity.

The leader of the group this time was still that ethereal figure sitting upon the high stone, resembling an Exiled Immortal.

Plates of transparent crystals orbited her, and every movement she made seemed to shed stardust. With fewer shadows obscuring her, a pair of long, slender legs was visible, flawless as white jade.

"Be quiet," she said softly. The crowd instantly fell silent.

In truth, the reason this graceful woman was the only powerhouse of her caliber present was that the other entities of her level knew her temperament.

While she wasn't exactly overbearing, she absolutely would not allow anyone of the same rank to fight her for an "opportunity." Combined with her formidable strength, the others had chosen to steer clear.

After she spoke, the Great Curtain fell into dead silence. Countless pairs of eyes locked onto Yan Jing, eager to see what he had brought this time.

In the next instant, the crowd stared at the laurel crown in his hands and lost their voices entirely.

None of them had expected him to find such an item.

Nor had they expected him to actually dare to assimilate it.

What kind of entity left this behind? He had suppressed five eras, severed the lineage of Deities, and spent his life on the battlefield without a single defeat. Even when facing a Child of Heaven and Earth born from the world's gathered might, his aging body had forced a draw. His fame had spanned ages, stunning countless domains.

Even though it was nothing more than a piece of leftover bone now, who could guarantee a victory against it?

Unless—

They carved it up and consumed it together.

Or—

She made a move.

The gazes of the gathered entities drifted toward the woman on the high stone. She was equally invincible across several territories, standing only half a step away from becoming a Deity.

Though her reign was shorter than that of the Lord of the Crown, time was no longer a reliable metric of power at their level, especially when facing nothing more than a fragment of bone.

To their surprise, the woman stared at the crown for a long while before slowly shaking her head. She muttered with a faint sigh, "It is indeed as astonishing as the legends say. Pity it's just a fragment of bone now. Even if I win, it proves nothing. It would only ruin the Momentum of Victory accumulated within it."

These entities were no fools; they immediately grasped the secret of the bone.

The woman might be able to win, but this bone was a byproduct of the path of "Victory." If she defeated it, its value would plummet.

To fully integrate it, Yan Jing had to absorb it himself, converting the crown's Momentum of Victory into his own.

Yan Jing naturally understood this as well.

He placed the crown before his prayer mat and sat down cross-legged, his expression calm.

This time, he didn't joke around or ask the entities behind the Great Curtain for help. Instead, he slowly closed his eyes.

Just like in his earlier vision, an unparalleled figure appeared across from him.

But unlike the vision, he was no longer looking at the man's back. He was facing him directly.

The face was exactly as Yan Jing had imagined, though heavily lined with wrinkles.

The etching of time had done nothing to soften the sharp angles of his features. His brows were like swords, his gaze like an axe. He looked at Yan Jing the way an emperor surveyed a subject—devoid of killing intent, devoid of disdain, just profoundly indifferent. It was an apathy that remained constant no matter who stood before him.

"You should have let them fight," the figure said slowly. "But since you have come yourself, that is fine too."

"Defeat me, and you may continue forward."

Just like all those years ago.

"Mhm."

Yan Jing nodded.

Behind the Great Curtain, the entities whispered amongst themselves, their expressions grave.

"I can sense it—"

"Yes, it's him. He left something terrifying inside this crown."

"Sigh... The kid is being a bit reckless... Though I suppose it's normal. His path has been too smooth so far."

"He should be fine. He has backup plans. It shouldn't cost him his life—"

As they spoke, they unconsciously glanced toward the figure on the stone to gauge her reaction.

But the elegant silhouette remained silent, her gaze resting on Yan Jing as placidly as water.

Within Yan Jing's consciousness.

The figure spoke slowly, "The power I have left behind is roughly equal to your current tier, so I am not bullying you. I will give you fifteen minutes. Prepare yourself, and then we will begin."

He had always been this way. Even in his ruthless pursuit of victory, he demanded an honorable fight.

"Alright."

Yan Jing nodded. Instantly, Weird Energy surged around him.

An apple materialized in his palm. He devoured it in a few bites, and thick black fog billowed outward. His body gradually warped into a looming, shadowy phantom with blood-red eyes and a mouth split open to its ears.

The opponent's face remained perfectly calm.

Next, cracks burst across Yan Jing's skin. Feathered tentacles erupted wildly from the fissures.

Fear Bird's voice rang out: "This unlucky bastard really dares to mess with anyone, huh? Damn it, guess I have to help—"

Yan Jing's consciousness was her home turf. It would be entirely unreasonable for her to sit this one out.

In a flash, the feathers on the tentacles grew furiously, weaving together until they formed pairs of massive wings at the tips of the appendages, hovering high above.

A meaningful gleam flickered in the opponent's eyes. He finally seemed somewhat interested in Yan Jing's transformation.

But it wasn't over. A towering tree suddenly shot up from the ground, and countless threads spewed from Yan Jing's eyes, weaving into a pitch-black throne.

The threads wrapped around Yan Jing, binding him to the throne. Weird Energy surged like a vast ocean, and skeletons swayed in the wind from the branches of the great tree.

The figure's eyes narrowed. A completely different kind of power flared around him, his aura spiking aggressively.

Clearly, the strength Yan Jing was displaying had forced him to get serious.

What he didn't expect, however, was that Yan Jing's "preparations" were still not finished.

A colossal wing composed of ninety-one feathers snapped open behind Yan Jing. The jet-black feathers beat gently, summoning a wind thick with the scent of death from the heavens. Chaos and reincarnation seemed to shatter into fragments, interweaving across the sky.

The figure's eyes narrowed even further.

This time, his bizarre power exploded upward, piercing the sky. In an instant, the winds and clouds within Yan Jing's consciousness churned. The celestial river seemed to pour down from the heavens, crashing around the figure to form an endless, awe-inspiring marsh.

He was truly extraordinary. With just two techniques, he had already leveled the playing field against Yan Jing.

Outside the Great Curtain, the onlookers sensed everything and gasped in astonishment. "He actually left this much power inside the crown? Does he refuse to let even his own remains lose to someone?"

"The man was an absolute maniac for victory... What a shame. Heaven was jealous of his talent, and he never took that final step... Though, perhaps that was a stroke of luck—"

"I'm more curious about the kid. Did he really push him this far? It's almost unbelievable."

While the crowd chattered, someone suddenly noticed something wrong. "Wait! He's drawn his halberd!!!"

The words stunned the crowd, and they all snapped their disbelieving eyes toward Yan Jing.

"He did! He actually drew his halberd!!"

It was true. The opponent had drawn his halberd. He had no choice. Yan Jing's aura had just violently surged under the power of the Stone Immortal, followed instantly by the power of the Painting Spirit, which summoned a shadow onto the throne beside him.

Under this overwhelming pressure, the heavy weapon materialized in the man's grip.

The figure felt his blood boiling. The look he gave Yan Jing had lost every trace of dismissal, replaced by an unprecedented seriousness and fiery excitement.

After so many years, it felt as though he had returned to that fateful battle. Though the scale of power was entirely different, he had genuinely found someone worthy of being called an opponent.

"Let us begin," he announced softly.

But Yan Jing shook his head. "Fifteen minutes haven't passed yet."

As he spoke, an ancient-looking Piano appeared before the shadow sitting on the throne. Immediately after, a third shadow materialized.

"..."

For a split second, the figure's pupils involuntarily dilated.

He hadn't expected that Yan Jing's prior display still wasn't his limit.

His gaze immediately turned grim.

All because of that bizarre instrument in front of the shadow.

Though he had never existed in the same era as his opponent, he could feel that the object was absolutely not ordinary.

Furthermore, it carried the blessing of some entity, and even gave off faint traces of the Imperial Dao.

His grip on the halberd tightened.

This was going to be a grueling fight, perhaps even harder than the final battle of his life, but he was ready for it.

However—

In the very next second.

Yan Jing brought out a blood-red voucher, a crystal radiating Divinity, a strange wisp of soft energy, and an eerie severed finger bone. Seeing this, the opponent finally lost his composure.

"Hold on."

He called for Yan Jing to stop, his eyes glued to the items in the boy's hands for several long seconds.

Then, he took a deep breath.

"Do you still want to continue?"

Yan Jing asked with a gentle expression.

The figure's answer came as absolutely no surprise.

"Let us fight."

The words were steady and powerful.

He was no leaping clown. He had suppressed five eras. Even knowing he would lose, he would absolutely never surrender before a fight.

He had lived his entire life this way.

He carried the title 'Emperor of the Five Eras' with unwavering stability and uncompromising honor.

Yan Jing smiled. He put away the four items and offered a slight bow to the figure.

"This junior is Yan Jing."

"I request a battle with Senior."

The exact details of this world-shaking battle remained unknown to the crowd behind the Great Curtain.

But the outcome was crystal clear.

Minutes later, they watched as a blood-soaked Yan Jing crawled up from a mottled pool of blood and slowly opened his eyes. The Ritual Blessing Coupon dissolved into a soft radiance that rained down over his body. A laurel crown rose high above his head, dropping countless threads of light, its mottled bloodstains serving as its perfect ornamentation.

He looked toward the Great Curtain, gazing at the silent crowd, and offered a faint smile. "Everyone, Mission Accomplished."