He has been reincarnated through countless worlds, adorned with billions of mythological terms!

This person was not actually involved in the attack on the elderly man from the beginning.

His swarm of insects was locked in thousands of transparent cages in the blue moonlight. He struggled, rammed, and hissed in the cages, and everyone thought he was trapped.

But now they see clearly—the swarms of insects struggling in the cages were just a decoy.

The real swarm of insects had already burrowed deep into the earth, into the interior of Yan Hui Mountain, and into every piece of soil, stone, grass, and tree that made up the mountain, long before the old man deployed his domain.

They are "eating" this mountain.

Countless fine lines appeared on the mountain walls surrounding Yan Hui Valley—not cracks, but insect tunnels.

Thousands of insect tunnels intertwine to form a net covering the entire mountain.

In each worm tunnel, worms wriggle, gnaw, and transform the essence of the mountain into their own power, then converge back into the body of the Gu worm reincarnator through a root-like network of worm tunnels.

The body of the Gu worm reincarnator has been reformed.

It was no longer the parasitic Miao body, but a humanoid form created by a swarm of insects—a black exoskeleton, translucent insect wings unfolding layer upon layer on its back, compound eyes occupying half of its face, and the other half of its face without skin, only densely packed insect eggs embedded in the gaps of its muscles, like pomegranate seeds.

He looked at the old man, and countless tiny points of light flickered in his compound eyes at the same time, as if he were smiling.

"You're long dead; you've only connected yourself to this mountain."

His voice came from his throat, echoing with layers of insect chirps, "Using the life of the mountain to prolong my own life."

"As long as the mountain stands, you stand; if the mountain dies, you die."

The old man's cane paused for a moment.

The blue light in the eyes of the beast head at the base of the staff flickered uncertainly, like a candle burning in the wind.

"So you're planning to eat this whole mountain."

The corner of the mouth of the Gu worm reincarnator split open.

The old man tapped the ground with his cane for the fourth time.

This time, the staff sank three feet into the ground, and the entire staff was glowing. The blue light poured down the staff, penetrating deep into the earth and flowing into the veins of Yan Hui Mountain.

He is using his own strength to reinforce the mountain range and fight the insect swarm for control of the mountain.

The Gu worm reincarnator did not stop it.

A faint smile appeared on half of his face.

"Comparing numbers with me?"

He opened his arms wide, as if embracing the entire mountain, "I have more worms than your cells."

The chewing sounds from underground suddenly increased.

The entire Yan Hui Mountain was groaning as it was being devoured—the worm-like patterns on the mountain walls were spreading wildly, and the lines that were originally only the thickness of a hair were rapidly becoming thicker, denser, and intertwined with each other, making the surface of the mountain look like it was covered with a black net.

The rocks are thinning, the soil is disappearing, and an old pine tree rooted on the ridge suddenly leans to the side. Its roots have been hollowed out, and the broken ends are crawling with white pupae.

The old man swayed slightly.

He connected himself with Yanhui Mountain; the mountain was his life.

For every bit of the mountain is eroded, a bit of his life is eroded as well.

Fine black lines appeared on his face, exactly like the insect trails on the mountain wall—as the swarm of insects devoured the mountain, they also eroded his body in the opposite direction, following the connection between him and the mountain.

The old man tapped the ground with his cane for the fifth time.

This time, the staff did not touch the ground, but rather the void.

The beast head at the base of the staff shone with a brilliant blue light. The entire staff exploded in his hand, transforming into thousands of blue light threads that shot into the mountainside, directly competing with the insect swarm for every inch of rock, every handful of soil, and every blade of grass.

The battle between the insect swarm and the light filaments extends from underground to the surface, and from inside the mountain to its surface.

On a rock, light threads and insect trails spread simultaneously. The light threads tried to seal the insect trails, while the insect trails tried to devour the light threads. The two were locked in a stalemate inside the rock. Unable to withstand the tearing force of the two forces, the rock silently shattered into dust.

On a mountainside, swarms of insects poured out of their tunnels and rushed toward an old tree covered in green silk.

The insect swarm gnaws away a layer of light filaments, and a new layer grows out; the light filaments strangle a group of insects, and even more insects pour out of the insect tunnels.

A thick layer of insect carcasses and fragments of light filaments had accumulated around the old tree. The tree itself had been gnawed down to only half a trunk, but the struggle continued.

Just as the old man was locked in a fierce battle with the Gu worm reincarnator, Shen Qingqing made a move.

Her figure vanished from the spot. An extremely thin black line extended from where she stood, passing by Helian Rong's side, passing through the edge of Liu Xier's mental energy network, passing through the still-cracking fragments of blue moonlight in the old man's domain, and pointing straight at the old man's throat.

Where the black line passed, a thin crack silently appeared in the ground, its edges as smooth as a mirror, as if it had been cut by an extremely thin and sharp knife.

The old man's pupils contracted slightly.

He actually felt the sensation of death from that blow.

The black line showed no murderous intent—not because it was deliberately concealed, but because Shen Qingqing's assassination attempt simply did not generate any killing intent.

There was no thought of killing anyone in her mind; her body was simply performing an action as naturally as breathing.

The old man neither turned around nor dodged.

His left hand was behind his back, his index and middle fingers joined together, and he pinched the black line between his two fingers.

The black line suddenly stopped, stopping an inch outside the old man's throat.

An inch apart, yet it feels like an eternity.

A bright blue light shone between the old man's two fingers, and the black line trembled violently in the light, emitting a sharp metallic scraping sound, but it could not advance any further.

However, Shen Qingqing's original intention was not to kill a true god on earth through a sneak attack.

The black line suddenly spread out between the old man's two fingers—not because it was snapped, but because it spread out on its own.

The black line transformed into millions of black threads, finer than spider silk, which slipped through the old man's fingers, circled his palm, and converged again.

This time, it wasn't aimed at the throat, but rather at the wrist, elbow, and knee—every joint's turning point.

At the same time, her aura changed.

After pushing the martial arts true energy of the terrestrial immortal to its limit, she suddenly withdrew it, and in its place came a completely different kind of power.

It was cold and dark, like the eerie wind seeping from the cracks in a tomb at night.

A thin layer of white frost appeared on the ground at the bottom of the valley. The corpses of the insects that had died in the battle trembled slightly under the frost, and then stood up unsteadily.

The dead insect swarm reopened their eyes, which had no pupils, only a ghostly green flame.

Ghosts and gods.

Hundreds of ghosts walk at night, and the living retreat.

The old man's expression shifted slightly:

"You extraterrestrial demons are truly terrifying."

The azure moonlight suddenly contracted around him, shrinking from a scattered area into a cocoon of light clinging tightly to his body.

The cocoon of light enveloped the entire person, its surface flowing with countless extremely fine cyan lines, like miniature mountain veins.

The black silk wrapped around the light cocoon, unable to tighten; the ghost insects pounced on the light cocoon, screeching as they turned to ashes in the blue light.

Shen Qingqing stood a hundred paces away, her gaze calm.

"As expected of an old monster who has lived for 2,700 years, his foundation is solid enough."

The old man did not respond.

He looked down at his right hand—there was a very thin bloodstain on the web of his hand, so thin that only a drop of blood had seeped out.

That was left behind when the black line slipped through his fingers.