Nine Star Hegemon Body Art

“Run, run!”

Long Chen’s legs blurred into motion as he bolted, lightning and flame wings unfurling from his back. He moved so quickly that the space ahead twisted in his wake.

Yet, even at this breakneck speed, Long Chen still felt that he was too slow. His grand attack—one he’d been so confident in—had spiraled out of control. The raging energy now attacked everything in its path, friend or foe alike.

He bit back regret. If Evilmoon weren’t in slumber, this might not have happened. But there were no “what-ifs” in this world. Gritting his teeth, Long Chen fled as far from the altar as his legs could carry him.

…

Deep within the Wind Domain Battlefield, an enormous mountain dominated the landscape. Its sheer cliffs pierced the clouds, and at its peak rested a natural platform.

On this platform sat over ten figures—men and women. Their postures were calm, and their hands locked in sacred seals, but there wasn’t even the slightest fluctuation of life coming from them.

At the forefront sat an extraordinarily handsome man. Though countless years had passed since his death, anyone who saw him would be subdued by his aura and feel the urge to kowtow to him.

Even now, divine light swirled around him, radiating the unmistakable aura of the Wind God’s lineage. This was Feng Wuji, a disciple of the Wind God and the one who had cast the legendary eight-trigram curse.

He and his comrades had sacrificed their lives to seal countless Silver Wing Heaven Devils, condemning them to an eternity as cursed zombies on the battlefield. Their selfless act had safeguarded the world.

When Tang Wan-er and the others ventured into the core region, they spread out to cover a large area. But to their surprise, there weren’t that many Silver Wing Heaven Devils here, and they weren’t as strong as expected. A single small squad was enough to deal with them easily; there was no danger whatsoever.

Upon reaching the core region, the group paused, waiting for Long Chen. In the meantime, they searched the surrounding area for treasures. As their search radius grew, practically every person had their own lucky encounters.

Some stumbled upon bone texts inscribed with ancient secret arts, while others found divine weapons. Though rusted, the item-spirits within these weapons were still alive, sustained by the essence blood of the Silver Wing Heaven Devils. These spirits, if provided with suitable hosts, could be reborn and even recount the history of that bygone era.

Some unearthed medicinal pills from the primal chaos era. However, wary of their unknown properties, they refrained from consuming the ancient pills, planning instead to offer them to the Wind God Sea Pavilion in exchange for rewards.

Additionally, the group amassed an extraordinary amount of devil essence blood and devil crystals, which marked them as the most fortunate participants in the Wind Domain Battlefield's history.

Their ultimate goal, however, was to pay their respects to Feng Wuji and his comrades. This was a sacred ceremony they couldn’t skip, so Long Chen needed to be there. However, even after they had slowed down their pace to give him time, he was still nowhere to be seen when they reached this hallowed ground.

“It’s been so long, but big brother Long Chen still hasn’t appeared. He couldn’t have…” one of them began to speculate nervously.

“Don’t spout nonsense! With big brother Long Chen’s power, which devil creature could stop him? My guess is he’s come across some incredible opportunity and is just taking his time with it,” a divine retainer interjected confidently.

The group nodded in agreement. These devil creatures posed no real threat to them—how could they possibly threaten someone as strong as Long Chen?

“Big sister Wan-er…?” Xiao Yue and the others turned to Tang Wan-er for guidance. Should they continue waiting or proceed with the ceremony?

Tang Wan-er made her decision. “He’s not part of the Wind God’s line. We’ll proceed on our own. Everyone, remember: be earnest as you form the Wind God Seal and chant the Wind God Mantra. Do not blaspheme our seniors.”

These bodies were not just heroes of the Wind God Sea Pavilion but saviors of the entire human race. Without their ultimate sacrifice, who knew what would have happened to the nine heavens and ten lands?

Tang Wan-er and the Hidden Dragon warriors knelt, their expressions solemn as they began the ritual. After preparing their offerings, Tang Wan-er took out a scroll imbued with the blessings of the Wind God Sea Pavilion. It was a sacred object that carried the gratitude of generations, but it was the first time someone actually managed to bring it here.

Tang Wan-er began to recite, her voice filled with reverence. “Seniors, thank you for saving the world. Your descendants will never forget your heroism…”

As her words echoed across the battlefield, heaven and earth trembled. The entire Wind Domain Battlefield’s aura shifted, growing vibrant and alive.

“Our ancestors can hear us…!” someone cried out emotionally, tears streaming down her face.

Tang Wan-er was also moved when she sensed a trace of Feng Wuji’s spiritual fluctuations. It seemed that he really could hear her.

With a quivering voice, she continued, “Seniors’ blessing is like that of the rising sun…”

As she continued the chant, the tremors intensified. The shaking was so strong that the group struggled to remain standing.

To their shock, Feng Wuji’s eyes slowly opened, followed by those of his comrades. The group nearly cried out in alarm. They had actually awakened the heroic spirits of their seniors.

Though their eyes were open, they seemed unfocused, as if gazing at a distant past.

Tang Wan-er continued her recitation, her voice trembling. The tremors grew stronger, and Feng Wuji’s gaze gradually sharpened. When his eyes fell on Tang Wan-er, a trace of shock appeared on his face, followed by a faint smile of recognition.

“There’s no need to continue. We’re back,” Feng Wuji said.

His voice was warm and reassuring, just like that of the neighborhood big brother—a comforting presence that could dispel all fear.

“Senior…” Tang Wan-er said, overwhelmed with emotion.

All disciples kowtowed to their heroic seniors. However, Feng Wuji waved his hand, stopping Tang Wan-er from following them.

“Your appearance is a wondrous thing,” Feng Wuji said, his gaze filled with profound gratitude.

Tang Wan-er was stunned. Feng Wuji spoke as if he knew her, but before she could respond, an explosive force rippled through the battlefield. The ground quaked violently, throwing Tang Wan-er and the others into the air.

“What’s happening?!” cried out one of the disciples.

Tang Wan-er and the others were stunned. Since Feng Wuji and the others were already awake, why was the world still shaking?

“Do you have another comrade?” asked Feng Wuji, turning toward the disturbance.

“Yes, there’s one more person!” Tang Wan-er replied, her heart racing. She immediately thought of Long Chen.

“Let’s go,” Feng Wuji said. With a wave of his hand, he and the group vanished, leaving this solemn area behind.

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