The Divine Realm was in chaos. The weaker gods—those who could not even withstand the aftermath of a battle between god-kings—stood far from the center of the battlefield, one after another turning pale. Their sole mission was to pour all their divine power into shoring up the already battered and cracked crystal wall, striving to maintain the realm’s final stability. Fear, confusion, and helplessness were etched on their faces.

A day in the Divine Realm equaled a year in the mortal world. Because of the difference in dimensional flow and time, most of the gods remained obsessed with their own struggles, completely unaware that in the short period their war had raged, the lower world—Douluo Continent, which they once knew, loved, and ruled—had undergone a shocking transformation that defied their understanding. They still saw themselves as high gods, looking down on mortals.

In this instant—

“Huh?”

The Goddess of Life’s beautiful brows knitted just slightly. Her divine consciousness, connected to the origin of all life in the Divine Realm, sharply sensed something… out of place. A power that did not belong to the Divine Realm had silently pierced the supposedly indestructible crystal wall. Like a hot knife through butter, it easily shredded the wall guarded by countless gods.

“What… what kind of power is this?!”

For the first time, fear appeared on the Goddess of Life’s face. And she was not alone. Almost at the same moment, the battling god-kings paused. God of Destruction Tang San, Golden Dragon King, Ma Hongjun… everyone’s gaze simultaneously swept downwards, staring at the dome of the holy realm.

A dark crack was silently and rapidly spreading there. Accompanied by a shattering sound like glass breaking, the sky of the Divine Realm was torn asunder. The first thing to burst out from the dark fissure was a violent bolt of purple-black lightning, filled with hatred and the flames of vengeance. The thunderbolt was nearly at its limit, its target crystal clear: it ignored the god-kings, and shot straight for Tang San, the Divine Executor wielding the Asura Demon Sword.

Within the lightning, there was a woman—her form enchanting, her beauty stunning—but in that instant, her lovely face was contorted with madness and rage. It was the Demon Empress.

“Tang San!! I’ll kill you!!”

Her sharp, grief-stricken howl was filled with the sorrow of a lost husband and the burning hatred for an enemy, shaking the entire Divine Realm and making the heavens tremble with her wrath.

“Hmph, a villain who doesn’t know whether to live or die!”

Tang San’s eyes instantly turned ice cold. Though shocked by the sudden change, how could a god-king possibly accept this crazed woman—neither a god-king herself nor even from the Divine Realm—challenging him? Casually, he raised the Asura Demon Sword in his hand, the scarlet blade expertly parrying the Demon Empress’s thunderous strike, which had been fueled by all her divine power.

Clang—!!!

A deafening crash of metal resounded throughout the holy domain. The Demon Empress was sent flying backward by a massive shockwave, coughing up purple divine blood. Yet her eyes showed no fear—only frenzied killing intent.

But for Tang San, who had blocked her blow, he didn’t spare her another glance. He cared nothing for the life or death of a crazed woman—she posed no threat to him. All his attention, his entire being, was seized by someone else who slowly emerged from the crack.

It was a young man in a black trench coat, handsome and striking. In his arms, he held someone who haunted Tang San’s dreams, day and night—a woman in a long pink dress, her hair braided like a flowing waterfall, her face delicate and flawless, her large moist eyes once filled with gentleness only for him.

Xiao Wu.

In that instant, Tang San’s mind went blank. He stared dazedly at the figure held in Huo Yuhao’s arms, and for the first time, a dull disbelief appeared on his face, devoid of both grief and joy. It was as if time itself had frozen.

“Xiao… Xiao Wu?”

He muttered the name he had recited in his heart millions of times, his voice dry, hoarse, and trembling.

But that brief daze was soon replaced by monstrous fury and murderous intent—enough to incinerate the entire Divine Realm. Because he could see—

Huo Yuhao’s possessive embrace locked Xiao Wu firmly in his arms. And his left hand, whether intentionally or not, rested naturally upon Xiao Wu’s ample, curvaceous chest—a gesture of sovereignty that only the closest lovers could make.

What stung even more was that his wife, Xiao Wu, allowed herself to be held so, with no sign of resistance—her face even showed faint comfort and reliance.

Boom—!!!

Every last thread of reason snapped in Tang San’s mind. Divine wars, foreign invasions—he flung them all away at that moment. In his eyes, only that man and woman remained.

“Xiao Wu!!”

He let out a piercing roar, his body transforming into a streak of bloody light as he charged desperately toward Huo Yuhao and Xiao Wu, determined to snatch his wife back from that bastard’s embrace.

Yet in the face of his fervor and rage, Xiao Wu’s reaction was like a basin of icy water poured from head to toe, chilling him to the bone. She furrowed her brows slightly and looked straight at Tang San—her eyes filled with strangeness, suspicion, and… a faint trace of disgust.

“Who are you?”

Her cold voice stabbed into Tang San’s heart like the sharpest icicle.

Those three words froze him in place as if struck by lightning.

“Xiao Wu, it’s me. Your husband, Tang San! Don’t you recognize me?”

His plea trembled, desperate.

What came back was Xiao Wu’s cold, resolute reply. She turned away from Tang San, nestled gently against Huo Yuhao’s chest, and spoke softly, naturally:

“He’s my husband.”

She pointed at Huo Yuhao.

“As for you, I don’t know you.”

Boom!!

It was as if five thunderbolts had struck at once. Tang San was frozen on the spot, his mind completely blank. What had he seen? What had he heard? Did his Xiao Wu truly not know him? Was she really declaring Huo Yuhao—used as a pawn in someone’s schemes—to be her husband? Impossible, absolutely impossible! This must be an illusion, that bastard must have cast some evil spell on Xiao Wu.

But in the next instant, as a god-king, his keen divine sense saw a reality crueler and more hopeless than any illusion. He saw that Huo Yuhao and Xiao Wu’s bodies shared the same origin of divine power, flowing and circulating together like water and milk, their breath and souls so closely intertwined as to be inseparable. The depth of their soul connection, the harmonious circulation of their energies, could only mean one thing—they had already performed the most profound spiritual and physical act: Dual Cultivation.

A word from the mortal world, full of humiliation and malice, like the most vicious curse, echoed in his mind—cuckolded.

“Ah——!!!”

A howl of endless pain, humiliation, and madness—unlike any human cry—burst from Tang San’s lips, a roar that seemed to crush his chest. His once-handsome face twisted with rage, becoming more terrifying than the ugliest evil spirit. His god-king eyes blazed scarlet, pure murderous intent radiating from them.

The other god-kings in the Divine Realm were utterly stunned by this sudden, divine-level NTR (netorare) drama. All watched in shock, forgetting even to breathe. The God of Destruction stopped gathering his power, purple eyes gleaming with schadenfreude. The Goddess of Life covered her mouth, her beautiful face a mix of disbelief and a trace of sympathy. Ma Hongjun’s Phoenix flames extinguished. Even the God of Emotion, Rong Nianbing, moved his lips slightly, his gaze toward Tang San full of sympathy and odd curiosity.

Who didn’t know Xiao Wu? She was the wife of Tang San, the Sea God. Their love story—human and soul beast, crossing races and life and death, finally both ascending to godhood—was legendary throughout the Divine Realm, an example envied by all. To protect Tang San, Xiao Wu had once been swept into temporal turbulence by Ma Hongjun; all thought she had perished. Tang San went mad over her loss, nearly destroying everything.

But now…

Xiao Wu had not died—she had returned. But she returned in the arms of another man. In full view of everyone, she had put a green hat on Tang San’s head, an event that would go down in Divine Realm history.

This situation was far worse for Tang San than Xiao Wu’s true death. It would torment him, humiliate him, and drive him insane ten thousand times over.

“Huo Yuhao——!!!”

Tang San squeezed the name through clenched teeth, each word filled with a soul-freezing murderous intent.

“I want you dead!!”

The Asura Demon Sword in his hand erupted with unprecedented destructive scarlet light—pouring all his power as a god-king, all the pain of a shattered heart, into a single, furious strike at the man who had taken everything from him.

As the Asura Demon Sword, blazing with the fury of a god-king, was about to fall—

Huo Yuhao’s gaze remained calm. He made no defensive gesture, only held Xiao Wu in his arms, his face indifferent. He knew he didn’t need to move at all.

In the next instant, the scarlet sword light was less than an inch from the center of his brow.

A black-and-red sword light, unspeakably ominous, as if it came from the end of all things, fell from the sky. It made no sound, no energy wave. It simply existed, erasing everything it touched—space, laws, even Tang San’s violent Asura divine power—at a conceptual level.

The invincible Asura Sword’s light melted and vanished at contact with the black-and-red sword light, like ice and snow under a blazing sun, fading into primal nothingness.

With a sneer, the sword light tore through the supposedly unbreakable space of the Divine Realm and slashed Tang San’s god-king body.

Boom—!!!

With a crash that shook the Divine Realm, the god-king who had once ruled alongside the Sea God was struck like a meteor, his body violently torn apart by an irresistible, annihilating force. His body drew a parabola of tens of thousands of miles through the sky, smashing through a dozen hanging sacred mountains, before finally crashing into the chaotic domain at the edge of the Divine Realm, raising clouds of smoke and dust.

A tall, cold, beautiful figure stood silently before Huo Yuhao, sword in hand. Her face was expressionless, indifferent, as she glanced at the distant, struggling Tang San.

“Do what you need to do.”

A flat voice rang in Huo Yuhao’s ear. At some point, Lu Jingming had appeared by his side.

“It’s been fun, but I’ve seen enough.”

Lu Jingming’s lips curled in a playful smile. “With your power, you’d only be a burden here. Take this chance to rescue the mother you’ve yearned for.”

Huo Yuhao looked at Lu Jingming, knowing this was part of their bargain. He had helped Lu Jingming, starring in a drama that utterly broke Tang San. In return, Lu Jingming would give him the opportunity to enter the depths of the Divine Realm and save his mother’s soul.

“Thank you.”

He nodded lightly, saying no more. Closing his eyes, his vast divine consciousness—belonging to the “God of Consciousness”—instantly spread out, following the guidance of his dark bloodline to precisely lock onto a soul’s coordinates in the holy domain.

In the next instant, he embraced Xiao Wu tightly and, without hesitation, shot off like a streamer in that direction. During this, none of the gods tried to stop him.

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep