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Chen Xuanfeng's guess was correct. Xi Luo's domain had indeed been tampered with by the Ancestor of Sword Saints, enabling its time-distorting effects. However, this was only possible due to Xi Luo’s unique circumstances. While such a domain enhanced with time magic would slow the passage of time inside, the energy required to sustain it would still be calculated based on the external timeframe. In other words, if this domain were truly sustained by Xi Luo's own power, he would have to expend the energy equivalent to maintaining the domain for seven days within just one hour inside. Although a Saint Master could draw infinite energy from the Stellar Nethersea, their physical and mental stamina was not limitless—both body and mind would tire. Had Xi Luo not relied on a divine artifact to manifest this domain, sparing himself the exhaustion, he wouldn't have lasted even a minute against Chen Xuanfeng, let alone an hour.

But none of that mattered now, for seven days had already passed—enough time to change far too much.

The Beastman Alliance was never united. Though Chen Xuanfeng had recently claimed the throne of the Beastman King through his Saint-level power and the support of the War God Temple, neither the Splitfang Clan—who saw themselves as descendants of emperors—nor the three major combat tribes outside the Wolf Clan truly submitted. Chen Xuanfeng lacked deep roots, with no powerful family or tribal backing. Moreover, since the Lion Clan had created the Emperor Martial Overlord Art, no other race had been able to lead the beastmen, resulting in a power balance centered around the Lion Clan. Now that the Wolf Clan had suddenly risen to prominence, many beastmen refused to bow.

Chen Xuanfeng had planned to summon the leaders of each tribe immediately after his coronation to establish new rules and stabilize the factions. Yet, right after the ceremony, he was trapped within Xi Luo's Eight-Colored Domain under unknown circumstances, leaving no chance to implement any measures. This gave ample opportunity to those beastmen forces harboring dissent.

"The Lion Clan's ten-thousand-year prestige cannot bow beneath the Wolf Clan's feet!"

The first to rise was, of course, the Splitfang Clan. This time, however, they did not cling to the legitimacy of Samantha, who had died before fulfilling his ambitions. Instead, they invoked the Lion Clan's millennia-long reign, rallying under the banner of "No King but a Lion," drawing even the scattered Lion Clan factions that had not previously submitted to the Splitfang Clan. Together with subordinate forces from tribes like the tigers, leopards, and lynxes, they established the Lion King Alliance in Lion Heart City, vowing to reclaim the Lion Clan's glory by force.

"Any force daring to challenge the traditions of the Beastman Alliance shall face the punishment of our Eagle Tribe and Bear Tribe."

The Eagle Tribe and Bear Tribe, who controlled the Eagle-Bear Fortress Cluster in the War God Corridor, had always been the backbone among the five major combat races. The two tribes—one ruling the skies, the other the land—often joined forces to rival the Lion Clan. With the Lion Clan's decline, they had already planned to seize the opportunity. Now, with Chen Xuanfeng trapped in the Eight-Colored Domain and the Splitfang Clan openly defying the War God Temple's authority and the rules of the Beastman King selection, they had all the justification they needed. Within days, they formed an alliance, denouncing the Lion Clan while consolidating their own positions.

"The Yak Tribe cares not who leads, but we will not tolerate any force interfering with our way of life."

The Yak Tribe, the most numerous among the five, was decentralized and vast, never a unified power. Initially, they had no intention of taking sides. But with the Lion Clan and the Eagle-Bear alliance drawing clear battle lines, the Yak Tribe feared that remaining neutral would invite suspicion or even attacks from both sides. After a gathering of their chieftains, they declared neutrality—refusing to engage in the struggle for beastman leadership while warning against any attempts to exploit their tribe.

"..."

The Wolf Clan was in an awkward position. Had Chen Xuanfeng been a noble of their tribe, they could have rallied the other races under the banner of the Beastman King. But Chen Xuanfeng hailed from a remote minor tribe, and his rise to power had involved little support from the Wolf Clan's major factions. The forces of the Fengdan Bailu Territory were entirely his own creation, existing outside the Wolf Clan's traditional power structure. While the Wolf Clan nobles had once rejoiced at avoiding subjugation by this nouveau riche upstart, they now cursed Chen Xuanfeng for abandoning his roots, leaving them unable to mobilize Fengdan Bailu's astonishing high-tier combat strength. Without Chen Xuanfeng's elite warriors and super beasts, the Wolf Clan was arguably the weakest among the five major races—hardly in a position to join the gathering storm of civil war.

To make matters worse, the War God Temple fell silent once more, fueling speculation that the Pontiff and Great Shamans had changed their stance—further accelerating the fragmentation.

Thus, when Chen Xuanfeng reappeared in the Holy City, he faced a Beastman "Alliance" that had fractured beyond recognition.

"Pontiff, I must ask—what exactly is your plan? Why did you stand by and watch the Alliance splinter these past few days?" Faced with the chaos, Chen Xuanfeng's first target was naturally the inactive Pontiff, the old coot.

Unfazed by Chen Xuanfeng's pressure, the two-hundred-year-old Pontiff smiled and gestured for the wolfman to take a seat before calmly replying, "Why the anger, Your Majesty the Beastman King? Do you lack the confidence to reunite those rebellious tribes?"

"Reunite? You make it sound simple—this is nearly half the beastman race in revolt!" Chen Xuanfeng glared at the Pontiff, furious. "Do you expect me to slaughter my way through, wiping out the entire elite leadership of the beastmen—accomplishing what even the humans have failed to do?"

This was the true source of his frustration. Rebellion itself did not frighten him. As a Sword Saint, he might not be able to crush armies of thousands head-on, but if he struck preemptively—like his assault on Sacred Dragon Mountain—before the enemy could consolidate their forces, no city or fortress in the world could stop him. Yet killing was easy; winning hearts was hard. Even if Chen Xuanfeng spent a year or two hunting down and eliminating the elite of the Lion, Eagle, Bear, and Yak tribes, securing his throne would remain uncertain. Worse, the Beastman Alliance's weakened state would leave human commanders laughing all the way to their war councils. To truly earn the submission of these proud races—especially as a commoner-born ruler—he would need a subtler approach: a mix of coercion and incentives, reshaping interests to foster interdependence. This had been the consensus in his prior discussions with the War God Temple. But a single human scheme, coupled with the Pontiff's inexplicable inaction, had shattered all plans, plunging everything into chaos—and sending Chen Xuanfeng's temper through the roof.