Really?

"You little bastard, you're still throwing shade even here?!" Lou Feng was so exasperated that he laughed. Glancing at the Chunjun in his hand, he let out a cold scoff. "Decent foundation, but the transmutations are utter garbage. What a waste of such good groundwork... Spiritus transmutation—do you even know what you're doing, you little shit?" With that, he flicked his hand. Instantly, atop the crystal-clear blade, a pale wisp of flame flared up and spread, utterly swallowing the wailing Hippolyta. The ghostly white flame surged furiously, yet it gave off not the slightest hint of heat. Instead, it radiated a bone-piercing chill! Right before Minkler's eyes, Hippolyta's body went stiff, frosted over as though plunged into an abyss of ice. Even the warped soul serpents froze into ice sculptures alongside her. Then they shattered on their own. In the end, nothing remained but a pile of frozen dust. In the snap of a finger, three layers of spiritus transmutation overlapped and evolved, effortlessly granting Chunjun a brand-new form—frozen flame transmutation! As if sensing the transformation Lou Feng had wrought, the original handwriting vanished without a trace, replaced by another message beneath it. —*Mediocre.* Lou Feng's expression instantly darkened. *How is this bastard still yapping even inside the House God's belly?!* He didn't doubt for a second that if he wiped this message away in a fit of rage, another layer of mocking text would be waiting beneath it! Don't ask how he knew; he simply knew this bastard far too well! Gritting his teeth, Lou Feng forced down his mounting fury. But immediately after, the message faded, and a fresh line of text surfaced before his eyes: *Mediocre temper, too.* *You just don't fucking stop, do you?!* As if savoring Lou Feng's incandescent rage, the words vanished contentedly, gone for good. All that remained were a dumbfounded Minkler and an ashen-faced Lou Feng, staring at each other. "Let's go." Suppressing his fury, Lou Feng turned and strode forward, words hissing through his clenched teeth. "Time is short. If you want to find someone, we'd better hurry." "Find who?" Minkler asked, trailing blankly behind him. Lou Feng looked back at him over his shoulder. "Your old man." *** "You old bastard, you really aren't dead!" At the highest summit of Netherworld Xiangzhou, Boggio—having penetrated straight to the core through countless schemes and preparations—roared in sheer, bloodshot fury. It was a complete inversion of filial piety. Yet it was entirely understandable. Anyone who had endured untold hardships, broken through layer after layer of trials, and finally reached the verge of victory only to find the ultimate obstacle standing before them was their own father would inevitably lose their mind. Besides, things like fatherly love and filial devotion had never existed in the Chopra family. Rather than father and children, their relationship was more like tools and user. Over a hundred sons and daughters, and all of them were mere instruments for that old bastard Bustamante—consumables used to secure external aid, forge alliances, and discard pacts! Even Boggio was no exception! He had spent his life walking on thin ice, trembling in fear. Even as the son the old man relied on the most, backed by his maternal clan, he lived in perpetual terror of the day he would be tossed out as a sacrificial pawn... while behind him, an unknown number of siblings and bastards eyed his position with ravenous greed! Until one day, he could bear it no longer. He poisoned him. That was right—Bustamante's death was entirely Boggio's doing. Just as the old bastard received good news and was brimming with joy, Boggio, intimately familiar with his father's habits, personally injected the Soul-Tethering Silk he had prepared for ages into the old man's favorite vintage wine. Out of six bottles, only one had been tampered with. He staked everything on fate. And then, he won—a resounding, glorious triumph! Even with occasional setbacks, he knew that fate favored him. In the end, the sole victor could only be him! And now, at the very moment he was closest to success, fate had played a cruel joke on him. And in that joke, the clown was none other than himself. At the very center of Netherworld Xiangzhou, in the deepest recess of the family shrine, his father, the patriarch of the Chopra family, Bustamante, had been waiting for a long time. "Oh, Number Four is here." Before the House Fire, Bustamante slowly turned his head to look at him. Glancing at his furious state, he let out a seemingly helpless sigh. "Disappointing wretch..." He murmured, "How did you only manage to kill this few?" Boggio froze. Stunned. His thoughts raced at lightning speed, as though everything had finally clicked into place. "You... you did it on purpose..." His face began to twitch. "You gave the patriarch's ring to Minkler on purpose!" What dying whim? It had all been premeditated from the start! To act so recklessly and flippantly at such a critical juncture, shoving the ultimate family heirloom into the hands of an undeserving upstart! Even knowing it would ignite chaos. No—precisely *because* it would ignite chaos! It was all to make them tear each other to pieces over the seat of patriarch! "Minkler? Just a convenient tool. Out of all the eligible children, he stood out the most... I've waited so long and haven't seen him arrive. Looks like he's done quite well for himself." Bustamante gave a sigh full of disappointment as he looked at Boggio. "Whereas you—how are you such a piece of trash?" To think he had killed so few? What a disgrace! As his words fell, within the colossal shrine, from the shadows untouched by the House Fire's glow, figures twitching and wailing slowly dropped down, entangled as though caught in the boughs of a monstrous tree. Those silhouettes, those faces... A chilling dread gripped Boggio's bones, and he took a rigid step backward. They were all his brothers and sisters! And their numbers were far beyond dozens... There were hundreds of them! Among them were many familiar faces, as well as men and women he had never even imagined existed... Aside from the registered offspring of the Chopra family, over the years, Bustamante's illegitimate children had long spread across the Thousand Islands! With the help of test-tube technologies and other methods, their numbers had reached well over a thousand. And now, the vast majority were gathered right here! Looking at those hollow faces, distinct from one another yet bearing an unmistakable family resemblance down to their bones, Boggio felt as though he had fallen into an icy abyss. Subconsciously, he retreated another step. "A pity that bastards who haven't been witnessed by the House Fire have limited influence over the House God. At best, they can only achieve this much." Bustamante sighed, making no effort to hide his disappointment. "Unfilial descendants are one thing, but incompetent descendants are a family's greatest original sin. Boggio, you truly are useless." As he spoke, amidst the waves of wailing, countless marionette-like figures rose and fell like a tide, while the hollow face of the House God slowly loomed overhead from the darkness. Wails and shrieks echoed from outside the shrine, bringing a faint smile to Bustamante's lips. "Number Nine is here too? Perfect... come join them!" With his words, a grotesque limb shot through the air, impaling a struggling soul and forcibly dragging it into the shrine to hang suspended in midair. Wailing, crying, the soul withered rapidly, thoroughly reduced to a puppet. Immediately after, Boggio saw the massive, hollow face of the House God behind Bustamante undergo a subtle shift. It grew... to resemble Bustamante even more! "Dear in-law, what magnificent methods!" A raspy voice suddenly sounded from Boggio's chest. On Boggio's torso, the soul-manifested flesh and skin bulged, bizarrely giving rise to an aged face. The old man opened his murky eyes and looked at Bustamante. "Such a scheme is truly terrifying... Using your own offspring as sacrificial anchors, commanding them through your own bloodline, manipulating the House God through vast quantities of their souls, and ultimately seizing total control over the House God! "If this succeeds, the Chopra family will be yours to rule for ten thousand generations. "Admirable. Truly admirable." "Hardly compares to Wulou Temple's underhanded infiltration. To think you'd deploy the Federation's art of war against my modest Chopra family..." Bustamante gave a cold smile. "Did you really think I wouldn't notice your infiltration beneath my very nose over all these years?" "Dear in-law, the Sea of Bitterness is boundless; turn back and find the shore." The old monk on Boggio's chest opened his eyes. "Where in this world is there an immortal emperor? Why not let go, and trust in the wisdom of future generations..." "Back when the Eternal Imperial Dynasty still stood, why didn't you say that to the emperor?" Bustamante scoffed. "I have to admire you bald donkeys. You can dress up greed and theft like poetry. If a useless fool like Boggio became patriarch, the Chopra family would just become an Upper Court of Wulou Temple!" "This is taking refuge in the True Dharma, taking refuge in the Guru, taking refuge in Supreme Unexcelled Enlightenment!" The old monk smiled faintly. "Such bliss, how could—" *BOOM!!!* Without warning, without motion, blazing light and a dark tide abruptly erupted within the shrine. Be it Bustamante or the old monk within Boggio's soul, both shed all pleasantries in the middle of talking and laughing, turning hostile in an instant. Throughout their seemingly idle banter, both sides had already been stealthily casting spells, waiting on cooldowns, and stacking buffs. Fully prepared, they struck with lethal brutality! With a wet slurp, countless suspended figures were vacuumed into the House God's maw. Immediately, the hollow, colossal face of the House God transformed until it looked practically identical to Bustamante. It was no longer mere child resemblance—they looked like twin brothers. A pity it was still not enough. It was still a far cry from the ideal state of an intimate, chimeric fusion. Yet to deal with the rebellious son before him, it was more than sufficient! Bustamante's soul dissolved as well, merging into the House God. Immediately after, the massive shrine squirmed and reshaped itself, transforming into the upper torso of Bustamante. Like a Giant, he lowered his gaze, looking down upon the dust before him. Reading the palm like open lines. Everything in the shrine, including Boggio, was already in the palm of his hand! His five fingers snapped shut! Beneath those closing fingers, amidst erupting radiant light, Boggio's body suddenly swelled, abruptly transforming into a seated lotus figure with three heads and six arms. Only, the head belonging to Boggio in the center was exceptionally faint, while two different heads sprouted from his shoulders—looking identical to his maternal grandfather. Instead of being crushed to death, he brandished the vajra in his grasp and slashed downward through the air! Instantly, within the vast netherworld, thunder rumbled incessantly. A chorus of chanting scriptures swelled like a tide, echoing the Seven Treasures Domain outside to carve out a sliver of Pure Land. Beneath the vajra's downward strike, Bustamante's colossal body violently detonated. A deluge of blood poured down like rain. "What in the world is that?!" In the middle of the downpour of blood, Minkler—who had been huffing and puffing his way up the mountain trail—froze completely, asking in total bewilderment, "What the hell was that just now?" "Let me see..." Lou Feng narrowed his eyes, looked over, and had a sudden realization. "It's your old man." He said, "Your old man exploded." "Huh?" Minkler blinked, then lit up with uncontainable joy. "Really?"