I already get it, and you still have to remind me again? Who the hell are you looking down on?

The Heavenly King Flute waved his hand casually, and a ball of energy wrapped Fang Che up, forming a shield.

"Watch properly. With this protecting you, even if any residual power hits you, it’ll just knock you flying and won’t hurt you at all."

Fang Che tried jabbing the shield with his finger with all his strength, and it actually wouldn’t budge.

He couldn’t help feeling a bit shocked.

These Old Demons were all truly powerful, one by one.

He suddenly remembered his previous life... how the hell did a mere Emperor Level like him have the guts to run around the Four Seas and Eight Desolates taking missions?

He was still thinking.

Then a sharp whistle suddenly rang out; the Night Emperor Ghost Blade struck first.

Right after, the flute sound started up, low and mournful.

Their figures flickered, and they were already fighting together!

Fang Che gathered his focus, sat down cross-legged inside the shield, and began watching the battle with all his attention.

Just like Emperor Ye said, the experience from a battle between experts at this level was simply too precious for him.

As he watched.

He immediately saw that the way these two fought was indeed from the same Sect; same flickering movements, same ghostly aura everywhere, same sinister presence.

Ghost Fog, night fog, kept drifting off their bodies.

Then was swept away.

The sound of ghosts wailing and gods howling appeared from both of them at the same time, spreading in all directions, then converging from all directions, gathering then scattering, scattering then gathering, over and over.

But this sound just kept getting denser and denser.

Gradually, the whole wilderness and Eight Desolates were filled with ghost wails and god howls.

In Fang Che’s ears, it was just like the Hell Sect’s gate had suddenly been flung open and all the Fierce Ghosts had rushed out.

Even the Golden Horned Flood Dragon couldn’t help but drill out of the Divine Sense Space, staring around with its empty eyes, searching everywhere for Death Energy.

Then it realized it wasn’t real...

And sullenly drilled back in.

After an hour of fighting, Fang Che could already see that Sikong Ye was clearly at a complete disadvantage now.

But his own physical and mental state, along with the intense clash with the Heavenly King Flute and the fusion of the Night Demon Divine Technique and the Nightmare Divine Technique, just kept getting better and better.

"What kind of Sect is this, it’s actually this strong!"

Fang Che was shocked.

He had gone back and specially checked: Dragon God Spear Hai of Cloud City, although always low‑key by nature, had still been a recorded legendary figure a few thousand years ago.

He once defeated the Kuangren Halberd, and even forced Rui Qianshan into the losing end. Just these two achievements were already enough to look down on the world!

And the Heavenly King Flute’s master, the Ghost King Flute, used to be a super Demon in the Wei Wo Zheng Sect, no weaker than Sun Wutian and Duan Xiyang.

Emperor Ye dominated one region; everyone knew he was the Emperor of the Dark Night, and the Heavenly King Flute was now ranked eighth on the Cloud Weapon List! His ranking was even above Xiang Beidou, the Vice Sect Leader of the Only True Sect!

This was the same Sect producing four peerless experts.

And they even had a Grandpa Ancestor, who could actually fight the Only I True Sect Leader Zheng Yuandong for a full day and night before being killed... a super figure...

What kind of immortal Sect was this?

One Sect with five great experts, all able to get on the Cloud Weapon List, and three of them had the strength for the top three!

Watching Emperor Ye and the Heavenly King Flute fight, their fighting styles basically pushed the word "Deceit" to the absolute extreme.

In an instant the sky was full of human figures, thousands of Emperor Ye and thousands of Heavenly King Flute shadows pairing off and slaughtering each other.

Every time it got like this, Fang Che had to focus completely to search for which one was the real body.

Only by finding the real body could he know where the Killing Move was hidden.

But out of ten times, he couldn’t even find it once!

Boom boom boom...

Explosions rang out in the air one after another, and the countless phantoms of Emperor Ye in midair shattered one by one.

With a whoosh, the real body was revealed.

He drifted down from the sky and landed on the mountaintop, standing there calm and at ease.

Up in the air, the Heavenly King Flute’s Shadows were still packed densely together, like a massive army that had finished forming up, standing quietly in the sky.

They stared at the lone Emperor Ye on the ground.

"Sikong Ye, your poison... you actually cured it, and in such a short time you were able to recover to this extent!"

The Heavenly King Flute’s voice sounded like thousands of people speaking at once.

In this sky full of sinister ghostly figures, it somehow added a few degrees of solemn gravity.

"Right now I’ve recovered only about seventy percent."

Sikong Ye said, "And during these two thousand years of being poisoned, I haven’t improved at all, so even if I fully recover to Peak, I’m probably still not your match."

"Not necessarily."

The Heavenly King Flute’s figures in the air began to vanish one by one.

To Fang Che it felt like each phantom was a moth drawn to flame, approaching the real body and then disappearing.

Only when there was one left, the Heavenly King Flute stepped down from the air as if walking down stairs, calm and unhurried.

He said, "Your cultivation was indeed stalled for two thousand years, but the feeling I get from fighting you is different from two thousand years ago."

Emperor Ye said blandly, "That’s because I don’t have Killing Intent today."

The Heavenly King Flute said, "It’s not about Killing Intent."

Frowning, he pondered hard, full of confusion, and said, "It’s a kind of remolded‑from‑the‑ground‑up feeling... bones... right! Your innate talent actually improved?"

His eyes suddenly locked on Sikong Ye’s face, his gaze like a Wolf: "How can fixed innate talent improve?!"

Sikong Ye was torn between laughing and crying: "Ning Zai Fei, is there something wrong with your head? Do you need me to praise you and say that you’ve also made ground‑breaking progress in these two thousand years?"

The suspicion in the Heavenly King Flute’s eyes did not lessen. He frowned at Sikong Ye’s face and said, "Then, shall we fight again tomorrow night?"