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

Midnight, the moon hangs high in the sky.

The fog deep in the Zhongnan Mountains suddenly became viscous—not from water vapor, but from the stagnation created by the distortion of space.

Eleven spaces simultaneously cracked open.

Eleven people entered Xianyang City simultaneously from eleven different directions.

The formless "shadow," the intangible "mist," the cultivator hidden in the spatial interlayer, the Gu cultivator clone residing in a certain body of the Qin Palace, and six other beings of different forms and strange auras—eleven avatars, without exception, all used special powers to conceal their true forms.

No one who has lived this long in reincarnation is a fool.

Knowing full well that there are tough enemies in Xianyang, they still have to come, so they must be fully prepared.

Using an avatar doesn't necessarily mean death, but using your true form will definitely lead to death.

No one would risk their life by sacrificing their own body.

The first to make a move was "Shadow".

He came from the direction of the wheat field outside Xianyang City. His body was a constantly twisting black phantom, without facial features or outlines. Even the moonlight passing through him would be swallowed up—like a human-shaped void.

He was incredibly fast, leaping from one shadow to another: the shadow of the city wall, the shadow of the flagpole, the shadow of the ginkgo tree, the shadow of the stone steps... every shadow was his teleportation portal.

When Ying sneaked into Xianyang Palace, the square in front of the Hall of Unity of the Four Seas was completely silent.

He hid in the shadows of the stone steps in front of the hall, observing the two people in front of the hall.

Under the ginkgo tree, Ying Ji and Lao Jiang stood and sat, seemingly completely unaware of the intrusion.

The shadow chuckled silently in the depths of the shadow, then suddenly emerged from the shadow of the ginkgo tree, transforming into a black blade that slashed towards Ying Ji's nape.

This strike was silent, without a flash of light, and without any killing intent.

This is a unique ability of their Shadow Cultivators called "Insensible Kill"—the person being ambushed will not realize they have been attacked until the blade cuts into their flesh.

Then he saw the light.

Golden light shone from under the ginkgo tree.

Old Jiang didn't make a move; it was Ying Ji who took action.

Ying Ji held the rolled-up bamboo slip in his hand. The slip was unrolled, revealing it covered with Qin script, each character glowing.

He picked up his brush and wrote a single character on the bamboo slip:

"cut".

The character "斩" (cut) on the bamboo slip flew out, transforming into a golden blade of light that met the shadow's black blade.

The black knife silently split in two.

The rule—Ying Ji was using the authority of the ruler of the dynasty.

After splitting in two, the shadow quickly closed up again, transforming back into a distorted black phantom.

He wasn't killed, but he was forced to retreat.

Ying Ji did not pursue.

"Not the original body."

Old Jiang said.

Ying Ji asked:

"Not kill?"

"They're all incarnations; killing them is pointless."

Old Jiang stood up, patted the ginkgo leaves off his clothes, and said, "But someone will go and kill them."

The sentence was abrupt and seemingly unrelated, yet Ying Ji understood it.

The physical body of the space cultivator is hidden in a naturally formed spatial interlayer deep within the Zhongnan Mountains.

This interlayer is thinner than the thinnest paper, and the entrance is only the size of a palm.

He used spatial folding magic to create a temporary cave for himself, where he has been observing Xianyang City for several days.

His avatars fought in Xianyang City, while a portion of his divine consciousness remained in his main body to maintain the stability of the spatial interlayer.

The information relayed by the avatars kept coming back: the old Taoist priest was killed instantly, and the shadow was forced to retreat—this was not unexpected.

However, at this moment, he discovered that the entrance to the interdimensional space was being forcibly torn apart.

It was a slender hand with clearly defined fingers, the fingertips gleaming with a pale golden luster.

Press your palm against the edge of the entrance and tear a gap in the space as if you were tearing a piece of paper.

The crack widened rapidly, revealing the white hem of a garment fluttering in the night outside.

The space cultivator recognized the other party at a glance.

His expression changed drastically.

With his left hand, he maintained the stability of the spatial interlayer, while with his right hand, he formed a hand seal, expanding the internal space of the interlayer from a radius of three feet to a radius of one hundred feet.

Then dozens of spatial blades popped out—each blade was a thin sheet formed by folding space to its limit, with edges sharp enough to cut through the bonds between particles.

The man in white is a clone.

In the past two years, we've killed almost all the reincarnators we could.

The rest are either nowhere to be found, or their ability to escape is too strong to be located.

But at this moment, the appearance of the Chosen One is absolutely the best bait.

He has been lonely for too long.

The clone shifted its body to the side.

Dozens of spatial blades slid past his sides, the closest one grazing the hair on the side of his neck and severing a few strands.

Before the severed hair could fall, the clone's right hand had already reached into the void, its five fingers forming a claw, and grabbed the wrist of the space cultivator who was casting the spell.

The spatial blade stopped.

"As expected of a reincarnator who has survived to this day."

The clone's eyes were devoid of any emotion. "It's amazing that it was able to hold out against me for so long."

The space cultivator's Adam's apple bobbed.

Inside Xianyang Palace, the battle had reached its climax.

The ten avatars took turns attacking, using all sorts of tricky and bizarre methods to enter the square in front of the Hall of Unity.

However, what guarded there, besides the laws governing the dynasty and the emperor's authority, was Old Jiang's seemingly ordinary finger.

Each finger gesture was devoid of any harshness, yet someone would always grunt and back away.

After being repelled three times in a row, Shadow and Mist dared not confront its edge head-on again.

In the brief pause of the meal, Old Jiang's finger swept over.

Both avatars shattered simultaneously.

The others also retreated with muffled groans, all severely injured in a few exchanges—some were physically damaged, and some were almost crushed on the spot, barely managing to preserve some of their consciousness only because their bodies severed the connection in time.

Ten incarnations were repelled, and none of them could cross the line in front of Old Jiang.

No one noticed when that line was drawn.

It was an extremely faint and thin golden streak that stretched from the roots of the ginkgo tree to the edge of the stone steps in front of the Hall of Unity of the Four Seas, lying across the center of the square.

No one can step on it.

The Gu cultivator's avatar was the last to retreat.

He retreated the fastest because he never intended to launch a direct attack from the beginning.

He hid inside the body of a guard in the Qin Palace and used Gu worms to simulate all the guard's physiological characteristics—breathing frequency, heartbeat rhythm, all exactly the same as the real person.

He waited for a full four hours, until the ten avatars in front took turns attacking and completely diverted Old Jiang's attention, before silently peeling away from the guard's body and transforming into a black thread thinner than silkworm silk. It then burrowed into the roots of the ginkgo tree from the ground and climbed up the trunk.

The target is a golden token hanging on the ginkgo tree.

Order of the Immortals.

As long as this token, imbued with the aura of destiny, is brought back to its original owner, this trip will not be entirely fruitless.

The black line touched the edge of the Fortune Immortal Token.

Then, a finger was placed on the token.

The man in white appeared under the ginkgo tree at some unknown time, his body radiating a thin golden cloak of law power that firmly pressed the black lines of the Gu worm reincarnator against the edge of the token.

The clone's ten fingers descended, and the black lines struggled violently within the golden light, emitting a hiss as faint as a mosquito's buzz.

Old Jiang naturally recognized the other party's rules.

Although it was strange that his disciple had changed his appearance?

But the rules are never wrong.

That's why he didn't do it himself and left everything to his apprentice.

The clone picked up a remnant of the black thread from under the ginkgo tree, and the power of law traced the debris in reverse.

A faint golden light appeared in the direction of Zhongnan Mountain.

A moment later, the golden light went out.

The clone stood on the ruins of a spatial interlayer deep within the Zhongnan Mountains, the last wisp of golden law light at its fingertips dissipating.

The corpses of five reincarnated beings lay scattered in the mountains and forests.

Some had their sea of ​​consciousness crushed by the power of the laws, some had their dantian burned through by the backlash of the incarnation's power, and some still maintained their posture from when they were alive, their eyes open, with unbelievable fear remaining in their pupils.

Five.

He chased them all the way from Xianyang City to Zhongnan Mountain, from Zhongnan Mountain to the Wei River, and from the Wei River to the foothills of the Qinling Mountains.

Even with the power of the laws pushed to their limit and the power of faith spread out like a net, six still managed to escape.

It's not that he's not fast enough, it's that these people are too fast.

Once they sensed something was wrong, the entire group scattered and fled.

His clone stood on the ridge of the Qinling Mountains, the night wind blowing up from the mountain stream, making his white clothes flutter.

He looked in six directions—six completely different escape routes.

Those reincarnators who have survived to this day are indeed all formidable individuals.

He did not pursue the matter further.

In that much time, they've already run far enough.

It's no use chasing now.

Moreover, those who caught up were already dead.

These five are the slowest running.

He withdrew the power of the law into his body and turned to walk back.