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

In stark contrast to Liu San's aggressive, head-on, and overwhelming fighting style, Mu Baiwei's fighting style is more unpredictable and elusive.

She is Yi Po—the ultimate being who has completely broken free from the form of a soul, having long since discarded the shackles of physical form, and can freely travel between the real and the virtual worlds. All laws that bind her are meaningless.

As long as the attack itself has not exceeded the boundaries of the concept of "law", any defense is meaningless to her.

Her figure flickered slightly in the void, and in the next instant she had already cut into the core area of ​​the flesh-crazed evil god's body—that densest, most active, and massive jungle of flesh and blood with gaping maws.

Countless gigantic mouths turned towards her simultaneously, their tongues whipping through the void, while the air was filled with spore clouds powerful enough to drive any flesh-and-blood creature into a frenzied mutation.

Mu Baiwei didn't even try to dodge.

Those tongue whips pierced through her body as if striking nothingness.

The spore cloud attempted to attach to, infect, and erode her spirit, assimilating her into a part of the flesh-and-blood evil god.

She looked down at the dark red spores clinging to the surface of the spirit, a disdainful smile curving her lips.

"this one?"

She raised her hand and gently brushed it away.

Dark red powder flaked off and drifted into the void.

The infectious power of the flesh-epileptic evil god is a nightmare for any living being of flesh and blood—a single spore is enough to completely assimilate the host within a few breaths, making them an extension of the evil god's body.

But Mu Baiwei is Yi Po.

She has no flesh and blood, no cells, and no material basis for infection.

Besides, even if she could be infected, so what?

She couldn't ask for more.

If the evil god of flesh and blood could really kill her, she would thank Him.

Mu Baiwei raised her hands and her ten fingers moved rapidly through the air.

As she moved, the void around the evil god's body began to tremble violently, and countless fine spatial cracks spread from her fingertips, weaving into a network of spatial rifts spanning tens of thousands of miles.

At the edge of each crack burned a ghostly green flame—the primordial fire she could only condense in her Yipo state, a fire specifically designed to scorch souls and burn laws.

The web of cracks suddenly tightened.

Tens of thousands of spatial rifts simultaneously cut inward, slicing the flesh and blood on the surface of the flesh-maniac evil god into countless pieces.

The ghostly fire spread along the cracks like maggots clinging to bones, burning silently on flesh and blood.

With each piece of flesh burned away, the evil god's laughter grew sharper.

Liu San and Mu Baiwei joined forces, one using his divine and demonic body to crush the enemy head-on, and the other using spatial laws and Netherworld fire to repeatedly cut and slash.

The true form of the flesh-eating evil god trembled violently under their encirclement, with fragments of flesh and blood scattering everywhere, and billions of giant mouths simultaneously emitting deafening screams and maniacal laughter.

On the deck of the distant warship, the five authorized personnel were already dumbfounded.

The bald, burly man carrying the giant sword gaped open, nearly dropping the sword from his grasp.

He paused for several seconds before finally managing to utter a sentence:

"What kind of monsters are these two people?"

No one answered him.

Because others are thinking about the same question.

The woman in the shimmering cloak had already pulled her hands out of her sleeves; the silver threads shining in her palms were originally her trump card for support.

But now she realizes that this trump card is completely useless—the strength of those two "subordinates" has far exceeded all her expectations.

The silver-armored man's expression was the most complex.

His gaze was fixed on the two figures frantically attacking the evil god's true form, his lips pressed into a thin line, and his fists clenched so tightly that his knuckles turned white.

He recalled what he had said to Yun Yi three months ago in the Netherworld Temple: "With our current strength, we really can't defeat the true form of the Evil God."

That judgment was based on his overall combat strength assessment of the other four authorized users.

But he didn't include Yun Yi's subordinates in his count.

He assumed that Yun Yi's subordinates were just a large but low-quality army of Yin ghosts, and that Yun Yi's strength was merely the strength of an individual.

Only now does he realize how terribly wrong he was.

Yun Yi's strength lies not only in himself, but also in the monsters under his command.

Is this guy really an authorized user like them?

Is this really necessary?

But the silver-armored man's expression quickly turned somber.

Liu San and Mu Baiwei's attacks were indeed fierce; every move was enough to make any authority holder present shudder.

The terrifying force tore deep, charred ravines into the evil god's body, and the ghostly fire burned large swaths of flesh into ashen powder.

The problem is—this flesh-and-blood planet is too big.

Large enough to contain a whole world.

The crater that Liu San blasted, which was thousands of miles wide, seemed astonishing, but on a flesh-and-blood planet with a diameter of hundreds of millions of miles, it was nothing more than a mosquito bite.

Moreover, the mosquito bite was healing at a visible speed—flesh and blood were growing back wildly from the edge of the pit, and a new giant mouth was splitting open from the new flesh, continuing to emit that chilling laughter.

The recovery speed is even faster than the destruction.

Behind the silver-armored man, the cloaked woman whispered:

"There's no point in continuing like this."

"Its body is too large and its regenerative ability is too strong. Continuing to fight it will only waste energy and will not achieve any results."

The bald, burly man gripped his greatsword tightly, gritting his teeth as he said, "Then what are we waiting for? Let's attack together!"

The man in silver armor shook his head.

His voice was low and restrained: "Let's see. Yun Yi hasn't moved yet. He's our main force."

He was right.

Yun Yi remained motionless.

Under the watchful eyes of all those with authority, he stood quietly at the bow of the Netherworld Temple warship, his hands behind his back, calmly gazing at the massive battle raging in the distance.

His expression remained unchanged.

There were no surprises, no worries, and no intention to make a move.

He tilted his head slightly to look behind him.

Shen Ye knelt not far away.

His knees pressed against the Netherworld Crystal on the bow deck, his fingers clenched tightly around his knees, trembling slightly from the force.

He lowered his head, his long golden hair obscuring his face, but it couldn't hide the unusual fluctuations of yin energy emanating from him—a soul tremor torn between extreme fear and extreme excitement.

Through the unique soul connection between Yin ghosts, Yun Yi directly accessed the fragments of memories surging in Shen Ye's mind at that moment.

Then he understood.

Allah has come.

He hid in a corner of the endless void, concealing his presence in an extremely discreet way, silently gazing at this battlefield.

Deep within Shen Ye's soul, the mark left by the True God within him remains.

After transforming into a ghost, the mark did not completely disappear, but instead merged with the spirit in some strange way.

That is why Shen Ye sensed His presence more acutely than anyone else.

The oppressive feeling surging from the depths of his soul, the unforgettable familiarity, the contradictory emotions intertwined with awe and fear—all of these told him that his "master" was nearby, watching over this battlefield with those golden vertical pupils.

Yun Yi slowly turned around and turned his gaze back to the seemingly empty void.

The divine sense extended in all directions along the domain's veins, passing through the flesh and blood barrier of the flesh-maniac evil god, piercing through the layers of folds in the endless void, and penetrating the spatial rifts that the evil god had hidden with special methods.

Then he sensed—there was more than one.