# 498
**Chapter 498 – We Can’t Possibly Lose**
“Where’s the Sword Saint?”
“Lured away by Lord Yiyu and a dragon.”
Third Seat exhaled slightly in relief. “Good. If he were still here, things would get tricky…”
A trace of doubt flickered in Shen Qingzhu’s eyes. “But the altar’s already destroyed. What can we do now?”
Third Seat shook his head, looked at the altar split clean in two before him, and gently pressed his palm to its surface.
The yellow-brown slime clinging to the fracture line writhed as if alive, slithering off the broken edges and oozing toward the central crack…
Reaching the rupture, the goo acted like living glue, pulling the two halves together, slowly knitting the altar whole again.
Shen Qingzhu stared, stunned.
“The altar was already damaged; the Sword Saint merely made it worse.” Third Seat watched the squirming mass.
“That yellow stuff is called [Source Conductor], Sequence 476. Harmless, but a prized relic of the Church of the Ancient Gods. Absolute psychic adaptability—mystical duct-tape. Wherever it bonds, it becomes a perfect conduit for mental energy.
Even if the altar were ground to dust, as long as the conductor remains connected, it still works.
Two more days of psychic infusion and the Nether God Altar will revive…”
Heat blazed in Third Seat’s eyes.
Shen Qingzhu’s expression turned subtle.
“Third Seat.”
Ninth Seat leapt down from the gash Zhou Ping had carved and landed beside them, face grave. “Have you seen Seventh Seat?”
“I’ve been underground. Just woke after the Sword Saint’s sword-qi hit me. Why?”
“Seventh Seat’s gone—Twelfth Seat too.” Ninth Seat frowned. “Seventh ran up earlier, said intruders were in the manor, told me to search the yard. Haven’t seen her since…
Xiao Shen, you spot them?”
Shen Qingzhu thought carefully, then shook his head. “No.”
Boom—!!
The ceiling of the subterranean space burst open; smoke billowed as several figures dropped lightly to the floor.
Third Seat and Ninth Seat frowned in unison.
They turned.
Five figures in Journey-to-the-West masks emerged from the dust—some with black cases on their backs, one with a black coffin, and above them a white ghost drifted.
“Seems… Seventh Seat was right,” Third Seat said coldly. “Rats have indeed scurried in.”
Seeing Third Seat’s face, Jiang Er’s eyes ignited mid-air. Her fists clenched.
Lin Qiye and the others noticed her fury and looked toward Third Seat.
“Him?” Lin Qiye asked quietly.
From An Qingyu’s waist, Jiang Er’s icy voice came through the MP3:
“Yes. He’s the one… holding the leash.”
Lin Qiye nodded, eyes narrowing, killing intent surging. “Relax. He’s not walking out of here alive.”
Beside the altar, Third Seat swept his gaze over the newcomers and whispered to Ninth Seat and Shen Qingzhu:
“On my signal, retreat in different directions.”
Ninth Seat was puzzled. “Retreat? We’re not fighting?”
“I’m injured by the Sword Saint’s qi—strength greatly reduced. Better cautious. They don’t know the altar’s secret; we’ll double back later and finish the ritual.”
Shen Qingzhu pondered, then spoke solemnly:
“Third Seat senior, I disagree.”
“Oh?” Third Seat looked at him.
“They’re only six, highest realm ‘Sea’. We have one ‘Sea’, one ‘Infinity’, one ‘Klein’…
In raw power, Ninth Seat senior alone can suppress them. Add my [Qi Min] and we’ll catch them off guard. Though you’re hurt, you can still wield ‘Infinity’-level force. By any count, they can’t beat us.
We can’t possibly lose—so why run?”
Ninth Seat nodded vigorously.
Third Seat, seeing Shen Qingzhu’s certainty, hesitated. Inwardly he too believed they wouldn’t lose, yet caution urged retreat—he was simply too weak right now.
“And if we flee, what will Lord Yiyu think if he returns to find the altar in their hands?” Shen Qingzhu played his trump card.
The words erased any thought of escape.
“You’re right.” Third Seat glared at the intruders. “We can’t lose—so no need to run… kill them.”
The moment the order fell, Ninth Seat and Shen Qingzhu shot toward Lin Qiye’s group, eyes blazing.
“A pack of rats dare strut before us?!” Shen Qingzhu snarled.
Ninth Seat thrust out his hands; a fierce spiral of air whirled above his palms as the pressure of ‘Infinity’ descended.
Thanks to the masks, he didn’t recognize the comrades who’d fought beside him atop the Baili tower—nor would it have mattered. He was a Believer; stance is everything.
Before Lin Qiye’s side could move, the drifting white ghost dove—straight into Ninth Seat’s body.
He jolted to a halt, turned stiffly, and looked back at Third Seat… then charged him!
Shen Qingzhu blinked, then hid a smile.
He glared at Lin Qiye, raising a hand as if to snap his fingers.
“Today, I’ll fight you to the bloody end!” he declared hotly—
and winked.
Lin Qiye lifted a finger toward him; black light glimmered at the tip, his eyes dyed an eerie black—
“Mind control!” he shouted righteously.
“Argh!”
Shen Qingzhu clutched his head, staggered back two steps, features twisting.
Then, dazed, he swung toward the bewildered Third Seat—
“Today, I’ll fight YOU to the bloody end!!”
He roared and rushed alongside Jiang Er-possessed Ninth Seat at Third Seat.
A six-on-three fight flipped in an instant… into eight-on-one.
Third Seat gaped at the surreal scene,
utterly dumbstruck.