# 546
**Chapter 547 – The Shattered Ceiling**
Lucifer’s illusory body was completely torn apart by Shu, dissolving into specks of light that vanished into the air. His pitch-black eyes glared at Shu with boundless fury, as if flames of rage were burning within.
After a moment of thought, the remnants of his body turned toward Lin Qiye on the Somersault Cloud.
He spoke coldly:
“Michael’s proxy… I will come for you…”
As his body faded, his voice grew fainter until it disappeared entirely.
Lin Qiye frowned slightly but didn’t dwell on it.
He had no intention of getting involved in the conflict between Michael and Lucifer. If he hadn’t accidentally summoned Lucifer’s phantom this time, he might never have had any connection to him at all.
He remembered Zhao Kongcheng once telling him that when Lucifer was discovered, he had been suppressed beneath a volcano in North America, sealed by Michael’s Mortal Divine Realm, unable to escape…
In that state, how could he possibly come for him?
Even if he did escape, would he dare set foot within Great Xia’s borders once Lin Qiye returned?
The urgent matter now was to find a way to shake off the two gods in front of him.
After tearing apart Lucifer’s remnants, the Wind God and the Desert God stepped through the void and easily caught up to Lin Qiye and the others.
Hurricanes and sandstorms blotted out the sky, beginning to seal off the surrounding airspace. Even though Lin Qiye rode the Somersault Cloud, he still couldn’t escape the range of the God’s Ruins in a short time.
His expression grew increasingly grave.
He reached into his chest and pulled out a wooden chopstick.
It was another of his trump cards.
Within this chopstick was a sword aura from the Sword Saint at his peak.
A single strike would surely hold back the two gods—but it also meant that Lin Qiye and the others would lose their last means of defense. If the gods caught up again, they would be nothing more than fish on the chopping block.
Even if Lin Qiye were to host another god’s soul, he still wouldn’t be able to stop a true god. His current realm was still far too low.
To strike, or not to strike?
Lin Qiye stared at the two rapidly approaching figures, sweat forming in his palm as he gripped the chopstick.
“Give up. You can’t escape.”
Set’s body turned into sand and dispersed into the air, recondensing in front of the Somersault Cloud. He looked at Lin Qiye and the others with a cold smile and spoke slowly.
An invisible gust of wind spiraled out from the void, forming a tornado that sealed off all paths of retreat. The Somersault Cloud reached the edge of the windstorm and was forced to stop—if they continued forward into the tempest, everyone except Jialan and Zhou Ping would be torn to shreds.
Their escape route was completely cut off.
A bitter smile tugged at Lin Qiye’s lips.
With these methods, trying to escape from gods was still too unrealistic…
…
At that moment.
Inside the Asylum of the Gods.
Nyx, dressed in a starlight gauze dress, stood quietly in the courtyard, looking up at the emptiness above. Her eyes shimmered faintly, lost in thought.
This time, she wasn’t sitting in her rocking chair, nor did she hold needle and thread in her hands. She stood there like a statue, unmoving.
Li Yifei and the others huddled in a corner of the corridor, observing Nyx and whispering:
“What do you think is going on with Grandma Nyx today?” Li Yifei asked suspiciously.
“Yeah, she’s been like that all afternoon,” A Zhu nodded, looking up at Nyx’s gaze but seeing nothing. “What is she looking at? I don’t see anything.”
“Jellyfish? Where are the jellyfish?”
The poodle in a tuxedo suddenly perked up, standing on two legs and scanning the area with wide eyes.
“She’s probably watching the director,” Black Pupil said thoughtfully.
“She can see from here?”
“Maybe. After all… she’s a god,” Black Pupil paused. “Perhaps she can.”
In the courtyard.
Nyx stared at the void above, her brows slightly furrowed.
After a moment of hesitation, she raised her hand, as if to touch something…
Another hand suddenly grabbed her wrist.
Nyx turned her head to see Merlin, clad in a blue mage’s robe, standing beside her, shaking his head.
“Wait a little longer,” he said.
…
In the mist.
Lin Qiye, standing on the Somersault Cloud, clenched the chopstick tightly and slowly raised his hand…
Just then,
another hand grabbed his wrist,
gently lowering it.
Lin Qiye turned to see Zhou Ping standing beside him, his blood-stained face smiling into his eyes.
“Sword Saint Senior…” Lin Qiye was stunned.
He looked down to see Zhou Ping’s skin glowing with a brilliant glass-like divine light. Beneath his blood-soaked black shirt, at his chest, a nearly transparent glass heart beat powerfully.
“Put it away. You don’t need it yet.”
Zhou Ping paused, as if hesitating. His ears turned slightly red, but he mustered his courage and said, “Thank you… I didn’t think you’d really risk so much to save me. I thought… I was just being sentimental…”
His second sentence was so quiet it was drowned out by the wind. Lin Qiye and the others didn’t hear it clearly.
“What’d you say, Sword Saint Senior?” Baili Pangpang leaned in with his ear.
Zhou Ping’s ears turned even redder. He took a deep breath and shouted loudly:
“I thought I was being sentimental! I thought you wouldn’t come to save me!”
He didn’t know why he said it out loud. These were words he should’ve kept buried in his heart—words he didn’t dare speak.
But he said them.
And loudly.
But so what?
This time, he hadn’t been sentimental, had he?
The feelings he had carefully offered had been returned.
He was happy—happier than ever.
If he could, he wanted to go back in time,
pat his younger self on the shoulder,
and smile as he told him:
“Don’t cry. Look—there are people in this world who care about you. This world… isn’t so bad after all.”
Baili Pangpang heard him clearly and laughed, the wind whipping his hair into the air. Squinting against the gale, he shouted back:
“Sword Saint Senior, you need more confidence! You’re the Sword Saint of Great Xia! A Human Apex! The mentor of the Fifth Special Squad! A hero who walks ahead of us all, protecting everyone! We’re all watching your back—struggling, yet steadfast—step by step! Don’t doubt, don’t fear! Your existence is a blessing to us all! You don’t need to deny your feelings—because you deserve every bit of it!”
As his words faded, the howling wind roared past Zhou Ping’s ears.
He stood there in a daze, his glass-like heart glowing brighter and brighter.
Do I… deserve it…?
He murmured.
Then, a smile appeared on his lips.
With a soft sound, the glass heart burst into blinding light. Within his body, it was as if a heavy shackle had been shattered. A torrent of emotion, mingled with pure sword intent, surged into his heart!
At this moment—
The shackle embedded in human genes, the ceiling that had bound Great Xia’s powerhouses for over a hundred years, one that no one had ever broken—
Was shattered by Zhou Ping’s own hand.