Unrivaled Comprehension: From Mortal to Immortal King

Inside the black war chariot sat an incredibly formidable figure. With a single cold shout, his voice echoed through the universe, instantly sweeping away the snowstorm within a hundred-mile radius. His piercing gaze locked onto the human stronghold, targeting Painted-Skin Scholar and Sword God Dilou.

As for Lin Jiufeng? He wasn't even worth a glance.

A mere cultivator at the peak of the Fourteen Bans was insignificant—he could be crushed with a single palm.

"Painted-Skin Scholar, you entered the Dimensional Battlefield five thousand years ago. In just these short millennia, you've climbed to stand on equal footing with us. Truly, a genius blessed by the heavens. But what a pity. Instead of focusing on your cultivation and ascending to higher realms, you've chosen to tie your fate to the already-declining human race. You have severed your own path. Utter foolishness." The voice from within the black chariot was cold and arrogant.

Painted-Skin Scholar responded calmly, "I cultivate to stand atop the mountain, to witness the view from its peak, and to record it for those who come after me—not to become an emotionless machine devoted solely to power. A great human sage once said: Would that I could build ten thousand grand mansions, sheltering the world's poor beneath their eaves. That is what I am doing—shielding humanity from the storm."

A chilling laugh erupted from the thirteen-race coalition army.

"What naive words! You've chosen to oppose us for the sake of these weak creatures—mere blood sacrifices. If you die here today, will it not be a wasted death?" one of the powerful beings sneered.

Another voice followed, filled with contempt. "The human race has been in decline for ten thousand years. Once, you had a cadre of supreme experts, but now? Not even a single cultivator has reached the Eighteen Bans. Even with you two so-called rising stars, you cannot possibly stop the might of our coalition."

Hearing this, Lin Jiufeng's heart sank. The human race doesn't have a single Eighteen Ban cultivator left?

He instinctively turned to Painted-Skin Scholar, who remained silent, his gaze fixed ahead.

Painted-Skin Scholar took a step forward, his voice laced with cold fury. "The decline of humanity—you all know the reason better than anyone. Instead of gratitude, you come here to mock us. Your consciences must have been devoured by beasts!"

"The past is beyond reckoning," a powerful figure interjected. "Perhaps humans brought this upon themselves. Either way, you have paid the price, as is only just."

A new presence appeared in the void—an enormous stone figure, its form untouched by the elements. A Stone Clan warrior.

"Indeed! Once upon a time, humans ruled the Dimensional Battlefield. They divided the Nine Provinces, built a hundred ancient cities, and sat as equals with the Immortals. You were supreme, and we could only bow our heads. Those days are gone—forever."

Another figure emerged, emanating boundless dominance—one of the Tyrant Body Clan, an unmatched physical force.

"Painted-Skin Scholar, you stand alone. Leave now while you still can. I know you are strong, but against the combined might of thirteen great races, you stand no chance."

From the ranks of the coalition army, a milk-white skeleton stepped forward. The flames of its soul flickered as it spoke, its voice hollow yet resonant.

One by one, more terrifying figures materialized. Their auras were as vast as mountains, their pressure suffocating.

And yet, none of them acknowledged Lin Jiufeng.

Not even Sword God Dilou.

Their target was singular: Painted-Skin Scholar.

Lin Jiufeng leaned toward Sword God Dilou and whispered, "They're afraid of him, aren't they?"

Dilou's gaze remained locked on the enemy. Without looking back, he replied coldly, "Once, an ancient ruin emerged, and countless races and experts sought to claim it. Yet every single one of them fell at Painted-Skin Scholar's hands. In the end, he was the only one who entered the ruins. No one knows what he obtained inside."

"When he emerged, the old monsters of the great clans tried to hunt him down. But in the boundless sands of the Western Desert, alone, he slew nine top-tier experts. The world was shocked. Since then, no one has dared to face him one-on-one."

Lin Jiufeng was astonished.

So that was the truth behind the alliance of thirteen races.

This wasn't about humanity—it was about one man.

The terrifying coalition army was here for a single reason: they feared Painted-Skin Scholar.

Even now, they hesitated to cross the human defensive formation, resorting instead to taunts and provocation.

But as more and more powerful figures emerged, their confidence swelled. They inched closer, testing the limits.

Painted-Skin Scholar's expression grew grave. He muttered, "They came prepared. I may not be able to hold them off alone."

"I can help," Sword God Dilou declared without hesitation.

Painted-Skin Scholar shook his head. "Your swordsmanship is formidable, but your realm is still lacking."

Dilou narrowed his eyes at the approaching army and smirked coldly. "That was before. I've absorbed a vast amount of energy. I'm at the precipice of a breakthrough—I will help."

Lin Jiufeng's eyes flickered. He understood.

The energy Dilou spoke of must be the reserves of the Supreme Primordial Immortal Palace, bestowed upon him by the Primordial Immortal. It was meant to heal his soul, but instead, it had propelled him to the next level.

A blend of celestial energy, a near-death epiphany, and the tempering of battle—Dilou was no longer the same.

Painted-Skin Scholar's eyes lit up. "If that's the case, you handle the ground forces. I'll take care of the top-tier experts."

"No. They have planned for this. If you are injured, even if I hold the line below, it will be meaningless," Dilou objected.

Painted-Skin Scholar frowned. "But if you help me, who will guard the human defensive array? The Four Symbols Formation may be powerful, but it cannot withstand endless siege. Humanity has only just begun to recover—we have no one else."

Dilou fell silent.

The dilemma was clear.

It was then that Lin Jiufeng spoke. "You only need to hold off their top experts. I will guard the formation."

Painted-Skin Scholar turned to him and immediately shook his head. "You are only at the peak of the Fourteen Bans. You cannot withstand this horde. Among them are warriors of the Fifteen Bans, Sixteen Bans—even Seventeen Bans. This is suicide."

Dilou simply watched him, saying nothing.

He knew more about Lin Jiufeng than Painted-Skin Scholar did.

Lin Jiufeng chuckled. "Let me be clear. Unless they have an Eighteen Ban cultivator hidden among them—"

His eyes gleamed with a sharp, terrifying light as he gazed at the enemy forces.

"No matter how many they send... I will cut them down."

Both Painted-Skin Scholar and Sword God Dilou froze, staring at him in shock.

At this moment, Lin Jiufeng's aura surged.

His gaze locked onto the thirteen-race coalition.

Killing intent billowed forth.

He had just broken through.

Now, he needed a true battle to test his newfound power.