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...Very well, you are the second one to maintain such awareness at this moment. Let me help you once. Listen, you wandering soul—do not seek to control the chaotic currents. Throw yourself into the maelstrom, become part of the Star-Studded Abyss. You have but one chance. Only by earning the Star-Studded Abyss’s acknowledgment can you attain that ultimate power...

As the mysterious voice faded, a mysterious and unfathomable power suddenly descended from the sky, dimming the towering black-and-white radiance. Simultaneously, the raging Combat Energy within Chen Xuanfeng’s body momentarily stilled, granting him a momentary respite to seize survival amidst his impending collapse.

"Heh, become part of the Star-Studded Abyss? Then I’ll gamble once more—throw myself into the maelstrom, my soul!" It must be said that Chen Xuanfeng’s innate recklessness surged forth again. With only that brief guidance from the mysterious voice, he staked his very soul.

In an instant, Chen Xuanfeng felt a "hum" resonate in his mind. The world before him shattered, revealing a boundless, magnificent stellar ocean—the wellspring of all power—unfolding before his soul.

"So this... is the source of all power..."

The next moment, he became like an undercurrent in the ocean, wholly merging into the surging tides.

Meanwhile, the skeletal warrior in black Leinster, who had been observing idly, suddenly flared with ghostly fire in his eyes as the eerie force descended from the sky. With a hoarse roar, he shouted, "You?! Stay out of this world’s affairs! I’ll kill him now!"

Without hesitation, his "Centennial Demonblade" transformed into a pale gray luminescence, thrusting toward Chen Xuanfeng. Engrossed in his communion with the Star-Studded Abyss, Chen Xuanfeng had no chance to evade. With a "shunk," the blade pierced his chest.

The violently clashing Combat Energy, now a hundred times fiercer than before, instantly rebounded, shattering Leinster’s sword arm and shoulder. Yet, the sword’s true power was revealed.

"Centennial Demonblade—Hundred Years' Solitude," turning an instant into a century, withering youth into bleached bones.

PS: My beloved *Wind Rises from the Violet Mist Gorge*—finally met its glorious yet abrupt end.

*Heroic Werewolf Scroll* Chapter 96: The Pretender Demon King Beyond Three Thousand Histories

Decay, withering, desiccation, dissolution.

Had Chen Xuanfeng been able to see himself, he would have realized that this strike had injected the power of "time" into his body. At a rate of a century per second, his wounded flesh rapidly aged millennia, the decay spreading relentlessly. Though boundless Combat Energy surged from all directions to resist this corrosive force, it was steadily overwhelmed, helpless as the withering consumed his body.

Leinster, victorious, let out a rasping laugh and shouted at a descending shadow in the sky, "Hahaha! See now? Don’t think that ascending to Sword Sainthood, guarded by the Star-Studded Abyss’s infinite power, makes one invincible. No life escapes the fate of aging. Centuries of my research into time’s power were meant for you! You won’t repeat the tricks you played on me!"

By then, Chen Xuanfeng’s limbs and torso had withered so severely that his once-fitted robes hung loose. A small pouch tumbled from his clothes, its contents—a peculiar crystal sigil of an ice-elemental forbidden spell—rolling free. Leinster swiftly retrieved both the crystal and his Centennial Demonblade.

At the same time, a white-robed figure, face veiled, descended from the sky, landing before the black-clad Leinster.

Neither paid further attention to the now-defeated Chen Xuanfeng, locking gazes instead.

Leinster reclaimed his sword, its pale light fixed on the white-veiled figure. After a long silence, he spoke: "So it really is you..."

A voice, ethereal and beyond any natural vocalization, emanated from the robed figure: "Of course. Who else could grant instant enlightenment into so-called 'Sainthood' power?"

"Hmph. Though we’ve crossed paths often, this is our first meeting. Is that body borrowed?"

"Naturally. After all... my original form turned to dust millennia ago." The white-veiled figure pulled back its hood, revealing an ordinary, pallid face. "No need for tests. My current strength pales compared to my prime, yet remains beyond your reach. Had you your former power combined with present skill, you might destroy this vessel—but never my soul."

Leinster studied him coldly before nodding. "True. You were always an indestructible fiend... Great Demon King, Bart."

At the center of the figure’s forehead gaped a fist-sized hollow. Within swirled not brain matter, but a colossal crimson eye of raging flame.

This human shell housed none other than the long-vanished soul of the Great Demon King Bart.

Bart’s voice, still disembodied, echoed: "Why such hostility, Leinster? By rights, shouldn’t you call me... teacher?"

"Spare me. Do you think I still don’t realize the 'secrets' you taught me were just pieces in your escape plan?"

"Even so, given the chance again, would you refuse?" Though the puppet’s face showed no expression, mockery tinged Bart’s tone. "You, the Twelve Half-Elves, even humanity’s first emperor—didn’t you all rise to dominance through my aid? Calling me humanity’s savior wouldn’t be far off."