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

As for revenge—he hadn't thought about it.

All he knew was that if he didn't run now, he too would turn into those silvery-white specks of light, dissipating into the air without leaving even ashes.

run.

We have to run.

But it's not about running away.

There's no point in running away.

He had long since sealed off the country's borders, and all three routes—land, sea, and air—were under his control. But from another perspective, these routes were also under the control of Tai Cang Xi Zhi.

That god can wipe out an entire city in an instant, and can seal off an entire country in an instant.

Running away is like walking into a trap.

He could only run downhill.

Run deeper into the spiritual vein.

Han Feng squatted down and placed his palms on the ground.

The spiritual energy of the spiritual vein surged beneath his palm, like a giant beast imprisoned underground, restless and yearning to break free.

Three years.

He spent three years working on this spiritual vein, setting up hundreds of formations and burying thousands of spiritual cores, turning the entire spiritual vein into a huge energy reserve.

He originally intended to use this energy to reach a higher realm—but now he can't care about that anymore.

The formation is activated.

The ground beneath my feet began to shake—not an earthquake, but the spiritual veins awakening.

The spiritual cores he had buried underground lit up simultaneously, frantically drawing energy from the spiritual veins and channeling it into his body along the meridians he had laid out.

The moment the spiritual energy entered his body, Han Feng's body trembled violently.

pain.

It felt like being pierced by a thousand arrows.

The energy of the spiritual veins is too violent and is not suitable for direct absorption.

His original plan was to proceed gradually, taking three years to slowly digest this energy—but now there is no time.

He could only use the most brutal method to force these energies into his body, into every meridian, every acupoint, and every cell.

Cells are swelling, meridians are tearing, and acupoints are collapsing.

But Han Feng gritted his teeth, remained silent, and continued to extract.

His cultivation level is rising.

Peak of the mid-stage of the Void Refinement Realm.

Late stage of Void Refinement.

Peak of the late stage of Void Refinement.

Further up—merge.

A trickle of blood oozed from the corner of Han Feng's mouth, but he didn't bother to wipe it away.

His body was aging at a visible rate—his hair went from gray to completely white, his skin went from loose to dry, and wrinkles covered his entire face like knife cuts.

Burning his lifespan, extracting his spiritual veins, and forcibly breaking through—these three methods of overdraft combined caused his life force to drain away as rapidly as sand in an hourglass.

Initial stage of fusion.

Arrived.

Han Feng opened his eyes, a pale light flashing in his pupils.

Early stage of Integration – a whole major realm higher than the previous mid-stage of Refinement of Void, making him a powerful figure at any time.

But he knew very well that this level of achievement was earned with his life.

His body was riddled with holes—70% of his meridians were broken, half of his acupoints were shattered, his cell division rate had reached its limit, and his telomeres were so short that they were almost invisible.

He won't live much longer.

Maybe a year, maybe half a year, maybe I'll die tomorrow.

But he doesn't care.

He only needs to live long enough to kill that authority holder.

Han Feng stood up, feeling the surging power within his body.

With his initial cultivation level at the initial stage of the Fusion Realm, coupled with the residual energy from the spiritual veins, his current strength is even greater than at his peak.

Using it to fight against Tai Cang Xi Zhi would be suicide—but using it to escape might offer a chance.

It wasn't about escaping Castro.

They fled to China.

China—there is an authority there.

That authority figure who has been secretly causing trouble, sabotaging their border blockade, and helping the indigenous population loss rate rise every month.

Han Feng didn't know who that person was, what he looked like, or where he was hiding.

But he doesn't need to know.

All he needed to do was enter China and then kill people.

Kill anyone who might be an authorized user.

We'll keep fighting until that troublesome authority holder slips up.

As for the cost?

He had no more price to pay.

Han Feng took a deep breath, drawing out all the remaining energy from the spiritual vein and channeling it into his legs.

Then—he moved.

With one step, his figure disappeared from the core of the spiritual vein.

The next second, he was already outside the Castro border.

A distance of hundreds of kilometers, traversed in a single step.

It was so fast that even the air couldn't react, so fast that even the sound was left behind, so fast that even Tai Cang Xi Zhi's perception was delayed for a moment.

Just a moment.

But enough.

Korean pop culture dares not stop, nor does it dare to turn back.

He continued eastward, toward China, toward that land sheltered by golden light.

His legs made a popping sound as they stepped into the air, each step accompanied by the cracking sound of bones breaking.

His body was collapsing, his cultivation was declining, and his lifespan was burning—but he didn't care.

There was only one thing he cared about.

That troublesome authority holder.

That damned authority figure who's been sabotaging their operations from the shadows all along.

He must die before him.

Only by killing the person with the authority can one obtain a return slot.

This is the ironclad rule of the Paradise of Reincarnation, and also his only way to survive.

As for whether one can escape from the clutches of Taicang Xizhi after killing the authority holder—that's a matter for later.

Kill them first, then we'll talk.

A trickle of blood seeped from the corner of Han Feng's mouth, which was stretched into a thin red line by the wind as he moved at high speed.

He continued eastward.

Taicang Xizhi stood above the capital of Castro, his silvery-white pupils reflecting the figure rushing eastward.

He didn't chase after them, he just watched.

He watched as Han Feng took a single step that covered hundreds of kilometers.

He watched as Han Feng's aura, despite being suppressed to the extreme, still shone brightly like a torch in the darkness.

He watched as Han Feng's body collapsed, his cultivation level plummeted, and his lifespan burned away—but the speed of his collapse only increased.

Like a cornered beast, making its last struggle.

Tai Cangxi did not move.

Because he knew where Han Feng was going. He also knew who Han Feng was going to kill.

That person—is someone even the original owner finds troublesome.

Tai Cangxi held his halberd horizontally behind him, his short, silvery-white hair fluttering slightly in the wind.

He watched the figure disappear at the horizon, then lifted his feet and followed at a leisurely pace.

Let Han Feng lead the way to find the rat that has been hiding for several years.

Once we arrive at our destination, we'll pack everything together.

China.

An unremarkable little town.

There is an inconspicuous residential building in the city, and inside the building is an inconspicuous room.

The house is inhabited by someone who no one would give a second glance.

wheelchair.

The boy in the wheelchair looked to be about eleven or twelve years old, but was actually fifteen.

His head was wrapped in bandages, and beneath the bandages was a sunken, deformed skull, as if it had been squeezed by something.

It's not an external injury—it's a congenital skull deformity.

She has looked like this since birth.

His mother attempted nine extreme sports while pregnant with him—she succeeded in the first eight, but failed in the ninth.

The mother died on the spot.

He was urgently taken out of his mother's cold womb and placed in an incubator, his body covered in tubes, like a kitten abandoned by the roadside.

I survived—but it wasn't much better than dying.

It has no hands and no feet.

The limbs were cut off at the base, leaving only four short, fleshy stumps.

She can't walk, can't run, can't eat by herself, can't dress herself, and even needs help to turn over.

Even worse is the brain.

The negative consequences of consanguineous marriage, coupled with brain damage caused by the mother's extreme exercise during pregnancy—the skull compressing the cerebral cortex—directly affected intelligence.

The soul of the one with the authority prevented him from becoming a fool.

However, the intellectual impairment also makes his thinking much slower than that of ordinary people.

It takes three times longer than others to understand something, and ten more repetitions than others to remember something.