The battle raged with earth-shattering fury, a spectacle impossible for the distant border sentries to ignore.

Yet, not a single soul was dispatched.

Their duty was at the border, and to abandon their posts was to invite severe punishment. Matters within Qi’s borders were the responsibility of others.

This single detail revealed the strict discipline upheld within the Qi military. The border guards would not readily leave their posts, denying any chance to impersonate or bypass identity verification.

Such was the discipline of the ordinary border soldiers, a testament to the military genius of Jiang Mengxiong. The might of Qi’s army was undeniable.

To escape Qi under martial law was akin to ascending the heavens.

The Azure Badge Constables were tasked with resolving incidents involving transcendent powers within Qi’s borders.

Though retired for years, Yue Leng, the legendary Divine Constable, possessed the authority to oversee this battle.

Most importantly, none of the three Grand Rectifiers of Yangdi were capable of interfering.

Jiang Wang watched as the corrupted Yin Guan was brutally beaten, inching closer to death.

Though his face betrayed no emotion, Jiang Wang felt a sense of unease.

Perhaps Yin Guan’s death here would be the most favorable outcome.

His past assistance to Yin Guan would remain forever concealed. He could ascend to the Fourth Rank Azure Badge, wielding authority typically reserved for Outer Mansion experts, despite his Inner Mansion cultivation – much like Lin Youxie, a Soaring Dragon cultivator, holding the Fifth Rank.

He would also gain access to a secret art from the national treasury, tailored for the Inner Mansion realm.

It was a situation with only benefits and no drawbacks.

However, in Jiang Wang’s choices, self-interest was rarely the primary concern.

Yin Guan had once saved his life, though Yin Guan himself considered the debt repaid.

Yet, Jiang Wang remained rational. His bond with Yin Guan was not strong enough to cloud his judgment.

The more he witnessed the battle, the more he understood the immense power of the combatants. Yue Leng and Yin Guan’s fight was beyond his ability to intervene!

“Jiang Yan, do you have any way to save Yin Guan?” Jiang Wang inquired within the Heavenly Palace, his expression unchanged.

Jiang Yan, who had been closely following the battle, responded almost immediately: “That depends on whether you truly wish to save him.”

“Speak plainly.”

“You have yet to fully unleash your potential. Temporarily relinquish control of your body to me, and I will help Yin Guan escape. Afterwards, I will return it…”

His voice abruptly ceased.

Jiang Wang, unwilling to engage in further machinations, enveloped the Nether Candle with his sea of spiritual flowers.

He had already gained immense insight from observing the battle between Yin Guan and Yue Leng. Given Jiang Yan’s “broad” perspective, it was best to keep him from watching.

It seemed there was no solution, he thought.

He could only watch helplessly as Yin Guan was beaten to death before his eyes. He could not even look away, for a Qi Azure Badge Constable should harbor no sympathy for the leader of Hell’s Gate.

He must not only “appreciate” the spectacle, but also offer his congratulations after Yue Leng’s victory.

This was his “script,” the insurmountable barrier within this play.

In his corrupted state, Yin Guan felt no pain, knew no despair.

The emotions of others were irrelevant.

He was no longer himself, but a vessel for all curses, an embodiment of malice.

Perhaps the only indication of his former self was his relentless, furious assault on Yue Leng.

Each strike from the corrupted Yin Guan was a desperate outpouring of power, always violent and savage.

But inevitably, he grew weaker.

No matter how much power he exerted, his reserves dwindled. No matter how fierce and fearless he was, he was doomed to a slow, agonizing death.

The Law-Binding Cudgel, imbued with the authority of Legalism, battered Yin Guan relentlessly, breaking countless bones. Only driven by that chaotic, mad force, was he able to maintain his battle stance.

The green flames that surrounded him gradually withered.

One by one, they collapsed, turning into specks of green light and falling away.

Yue Leng’s attacks grew ever more fierce, more unrestrained, more reckless. The only thing that had given him pause was those very green flames.

Jiang Wang was the first to notice the change.

Yue Leng’s attention was focused solely on the green flames, waiting for them to vanish completely before delivering the final blow.

But Jiang Wang had been watching Yin Guan’s expression.

The constantly shifting myriad of painful expressions represented countless tormented wills.

Curses originated from hatred.

Yin Guan had fully embraced the vast power of curses, and he had to endure the suffering of countless others.

However, as the green flames were extinguished, his expressions shifted more slowly, less frequently.

His body deteriorated, approaching death, and the green in his eyes faded.

It appeared to be the normal reaction of a life force fading, the disintegration of cursed power.

As he approached death, as an extraordinary cultivator, he was, naturally, becoming “ordinary”.

Jiang Wang was inexplicably reminded of his first encounter with Yin Guan.

Then, as a “defector,” he had appeared out of nowhere, trading blows with Zheng Chaoyang, the commander of the Nation-Protecting Tablet-Bearing Army, outside the Twenty-Seventh Lower City.

That battle had brought him fame and astonished Jiang Wang.

And today, as the green flames faded, he seemed to be witnessing the end of an epic tale.

This was the death throes of an extraordinary warrior, the withering of a genius cultivator.

Even the most beautiful flowers eventually wilted.

Jiang Wang sighed inwardly.

But in that instant, the agony and struggle vanished from Yin Guan’s face. The malice of countless cursed souls lost its anchor, leaving only a chilling calm – a solitary scrutiny of suffering.

That calm possessed immense power.

What was a curse?

A hatred of heaven’s injustice, a hatred of earth’s unevenness, a hatred of man’s powerlessness.

A heart full of unresolvable grievances, a lifetime of inescapable torment.

One could only beseech the spirits to inflict calamity upon those who were hated.

A curse was a venomous power.

Throughout history, no one had developed this power to such an extent.

Yin Guan wielded the vast power of curses, but he also had to face the relentless assault of the malice of countless cursed souls.

There were instances of injustice, instances where appeals to officials went unheard, instances of families torn apart, instances of entire clans annihilated… countless worldly pains, countless worldly torments.

Yin Guan walked a path laden with sin.

He had experienced everything, endured everything, and finally chose to face everything.

His will had returned!

Yue Leng’s perception was even more direct.

The remaining few green flames suddenly vanished.

Not scattered by his attacks, but extinguished on their own.

The eerie, sinister green pupils of Yin Guan had also returned to black.

This blackness was the pitch-black of one who coolly observed himself amidst boundless suffering.

Yue Leng sensed that Qin Guangwang’s body, which was on the verge of destruction, had suddenly begun to regenerate with vitality.

His physical body began to “solidify,” with a steadiness that connected to heaven and earth.

His blood became “heavy,” with a weight that traced back to the past.

It was space, it was history, it was the instinctive stirring of life.

Throughout heaven and earth, it felt as though a grand tremor was occurring.

It was an unspoken declaration.

A declaration of the Dao.

“I Descend Like a God!”