Chapter 100: Becoming Empress in the Future

Half a day later.

A colossal arcane vessel slowly ascended from the depths of the Ice Abyss.

A people who had been suppressed beneath the abyss for generations were finally leaving this cursed place.

To prevent the light from burning their eyes, Qin Yue deliberately sealed all the windows shut.

At the same time, he activated the most advanced magical formation.

In truth, Ye Hanshan had prepared meticulously. The vessel was not only stocked with a large number of enchanted “sunglasses”—almost one per person—but also equipped with “invisibility” devices.

Just after finishing her bath, Zhou Ran stepped out of the bathroom, wrapped in a bathrobe, towel in hand as she dried her hair. She was about to reach for the hairdryer on the bedside table when she suddenly heard a knock at the door.

Although Jun Wentian was already Luo Yu’s grandfather, he looked no older than his thirties. It wasn’t due to any beauty retention technique; rather, this was a common trait among their people.

Everyone’s gazes fixed on Yang Fusheng, their expressions shifting unpredictably. Could it be that becoming bandits was truly the only way to survive?

The room fell into a long silence, so still that even the sound of breathing was clearly audible. Amid this deathly quiet, someone finally spoke.

The only drawback was that, having just attained the rank of Semi-Saint of Confucianism and Taoism, he was still inexperienced; the floating cities and local powers had yet to offer significant support.

Everyone in the room was listening intently. Was Mr. Bu’s implication that they were to rescue Li Xiuning?

Soon after, the guarding elders arrived one after another. Ke Ruo, one of the masters of the Fate Sect, personally appeared to inquire about the situation.

Today, Zhou Ran was unlike the person he had seen before. Usually, she went without makeup, her face bare like the gentle spring rain in the southern months of the lunar calendar—still carrying a slight chill.

“I believe you are already aware that you bear a floral vine talisman,” Yun Yan said, his gaze shifting from Yun Tiange’s chest to the view outside the window.

After leaving the restaurant, Xia Tiantian returned to Langrun Garden. Along the way, she couldn’t fathom how to run a restaurant. Zhou Yang’s unwillingness to help frustrated her—not because he was shirking responsibility, but because if she were truly capable, Zhou Yang would never behave this way.

Yao Jiang kept stomping beside her, hesitating to speak. Xu Siyu shot her a glare, after which she resigned herself to helping Yun Tiange load the luggage onto the carriage and led Zhu Zehang onto another carriage.

Whether in Qingshan Village or the Qingshan Realm, the secrets hidden within would eventually need to be uncovered. When he had first entered spiritual cultivation, he was unfamiliar with many things and thus had not pondered them deeply.

Although Chen Mo was idle, he would not allow Pat Riley to get his way. Emotions could only be vented through the competition, or through the frantic spray of spittle.

In the desolate desert, the dark-skinned Long-Ear Tribe riders galloped atop black leopards beneath the blazing sun. Their physiques were incredibly agile, rising and falling gracefully with the leopards’ leaps, stirring up towering waves of sand in the vast wilderness.

Meanwhile, inside the Xiangshan Villa, Liu Shuya’s heart pounded nervously as she watched the War King steadily approaching. A man’s reputation precedes him; facing this undefeated master who dominated the entire server, Liu Shuya felt utterly unconfident.

“You’re quite curious about my relationship with Lin Enmo,” Xiao Se said, a smile playing on his lips and a hint of scrutiny in his eyes.

No one knew exactly who Shangguan Jiao was. Despite knowing death awaited, a middle-aged man insisted on covering her retreat. Hearing his words, Lei Feng didn’t wait for Shangguan Jiao to speak; he hoisted her onto his shoulders and sprinted away, not even glancing at his master.

Qiao Xiuya extended his hand, and with a single thought, a spectrum of emotions burst forth, swirling vividly in his palm.

But when he suddenly sensed that Ragnaros’s aura was still far weaker than his own, a faint sovereign’s pressure emanated from behind him. He whipped around to see, amidst the ruins of the White Jade Tower, a pink rabbit-headed figure kneeling on one knee, plunging a sovereign’s sword deep into the ground before him.