The moment Ningguang's voice fell, the entirety of Liyue Harbor erupted.
Martial artists stationed throughout the port leapt from rooftops, piers, and alleys, converging toward the shoreline.
First came the post-heaven martial artists.
Then those innate practitioners who hadn't left on missions yet.
Finally—
Several brawny figures, their bodies radiating oppressive, domineering will, crossed hundreds of meters in a single stride and landed at the forward line.
The surge of martial intent rolled across the harbor like wildfire, igniting the atmosphere instantly.
Only then did the citizens remember—
Aside from the cultivators, Liyue's heritage still had another pillar:
Its martial artists.
Though they could not compare to cultivators, they were undeniably extraordinary within the mortal domain.
And right now?
Their fighting spirit was blazing.
Ever since they began practicing martial arts, they'd never had a proper, satisfying battle.
Against beasts—they were always on the receiving end of the beating.
Against ordinary monsters—the enemies were too weak, dying too fast.
To martial artists burning with will and discipline, that was practically torture.
But today—
Finally—
A real war.
Even though their enemies were still weak monsters, the sheer number of them at least provided pressure.
And with spiritual qi reviving in the sea, even the monsters were a little strengthened.
Enough to count as usable opponents.
At last, they could unleash themselves.
Watching the approaching tide of monsters, the martial artists grinned with excitement.
Fear?
What fear?
The strongest threat—the demon god—was already treated by those cultivators above as nothing more than an ingredient waiting to be diced.
Even if they weren't cultivators, they were still martial masters far beyond the ordinary.
A horde of mutated sea monsters?
If those things managed to kill them, then they deserved to die for being disgracefully incompetent.
One grandmaster glanced at the rolling monsters and nodded at his three peers.
"I'll watch the northern line."
He vanished in a blur.
The other three split off to different sectors.
Only four grandmasters remained in Liyue Harbor today—
But truthfully?
Four grandmasters were already more than enough to suppress the entire frontline of monsters.
As long as they were here, the monsters would never touch Liyue's shores.
At the northern defense line, many civilians had already dragged out chairs, stools, benches, and even tables, settling behind the martial artists as if attending a theater performance.
Vendors carrying baskets and trays roamed the aisles, selling melon seeds, fried dough, skewers, drinks—
A festive atmosphere.
Any sense of danger?
None whatsoever.
After all—
Above their heads hovered over a thousand cultivators.
And at the very front of them, several individuals radiated power like manifestations of heaven's will.
Those were the strongest of Liyue.
The Qixing.
The inner disciples of Mount Shu.
How could anyone feel anxious?
This was probably the grandest show they'd see in their lifetime.
"Hey," one man elbowed his friend excitedly, "which squad do you think will kill the most monsters today?"
"I'm betting on Captain Changguang's team. He's already at the peak of Innate Realm—might be the next grandmaster.
His squad has six innate fighters, all mid to late stage.
Even their post-heaven members are all seventh or eighth level."
"Plus, Captain Changguang is the disciple of Captain Mingyan—who stayed behind at Mount Shu to cultivate martial arts.
I heard Mingyan is already peak grandmaster and may break through to great grandmaster soon."
The friend nodded solemnly.
"Yeah, yeah, definitely Changguang's team."
Before they could continue—
BOOM!!!
A deafening blast shook the coastline.
A section of the sea was blasted inward, waves folding violently.
Hundreds of monsters were instantly erased.
The two spectators stared blankly, then spotted the figure standing on a raised platform.
"…Fang Ming-Instructor…"
"That's Liyue's strongest peak grandmaster. His Dragon-Rock Primordial Palm is already at the eighth stage—the number one palm technique in all of Liyue."
"Hmph. Palm technique number one, I agree.
But strongest grandmaster? Not necessarily."
Another man snorted.
"Instructor Qiongle's Overlord Chain-Spear is also at eighth stage. If we're talking about strongest, he might actually be the one."
"Why are you debating which instructor is the strongest!? They're all our protectors! Aren't you just trying to sow discord?"
"I was just curious…"
"Tch. Curious? Then why not go debate which Mount Shu inner disciple is the strongest?"
"That's—
Obviously Secretary Ganyu! She's already late Essence-Refining—and she has a spirit beast at early Spirit-Refining stage!"
"Hey! The Conqueror of Demons is also late Essence-Refining! He just doesn't have a spirit beast!"
"Secretary Ganyu also has a spiritual treasure!"
"The Conqueror also has treasures!!"
Seeing the argument spiral into dangerous territory, the first man wiped cold sweat and gestured frantically for them to stop.
You can chat about martial instructors all day—
but debating cultivators was asking to die.
Across all fronts, the same scene repeated itself.
A thousand cultivators suppressed the skies.
Martial masters slaughtered monsters freely on the front lines.
As for the citizens?
They had long forgotten fear.
They snacked, joked, spectated, and cheered—
Like attending a festival.
A once-in-a-lifetime spectacle.
In their eyes, it felt like…
Osial had clawed his way out of the seal not to destroy Liyue—
But to give Liyue a spectacular, large-scale performance.
A generous one-man show.
Many citizens even found themselves feeling emotional.
"Poor Osial…"
"He broke out after suffering thousands of years, and the first thing he does is… give us a demonstration of how strong cultivators are."
"If not for him, we really wouldn't know Liyue's power is this terrifying."
All worries about the Geo Archon's abdication—
evaporated.
Now, the only concern was—
What dramatic way Osial would die.
——
Up in the sky, seeing the martial artists hold the lines firmly—
And seeing the joyful citizens—
The cultivators exchanged amused glances.
"This should ease the public's anxiety about the Archon's departure."
"Our workload will be much lighter."
"In a sense… we should thank Osial."
Xingqiu chuckled.
Beidou twisted her wrists impatiently.
"So how long until Beisht gets here? I'm getting itchy."
"Oh? Someone's jealous the martial artists get to swing freely?"
Ningguang teased gently.
Beidou shrugged, unashamed.
Ganyu, who had been quietly sensing the sea, said softly:
"She's almost here. Get ready."
That was all it took.
Everyone straightened, their true essence boiling with anticipation.
After cultivating for so long—
Finally, a battle worth fighting.
Even if Osial wasn't exactly… a challenge.
Below, the outer disciples remained still.
They were too weak for this level of battle—
only Foundation Establishment.
If they joined, the waves created from the cultivators' clashes could crush them.
Their job was to block the aftermath, not participate.
Meanwhile, Osial sensed Beisht approaching.
Even with eroded sanity, he still remembered her.
He unleashed a long roar, and for the first time, hesitated rather than rush forward.
He could feel it.
Liyue… had changed.
That golden barrier—
not as strong as Zhongli's once was—
but the aura was similar.
Even in his broken mind, one thought surfaced:
Safer to fight together with Beisht.
A massive bulge of roaring water rose in the distance.
Moments later—
A huge blue serpent burst from the waves, letting out a resonant bellow.
Beisht drew close, the two demon gods exchanging roars—
like grieving lovers reuniting after a thousand years.
The pressure they released made even the sky seem ready to crack.
The sea boiled violently.
"…Tch. Now we look like the villains," Beidou muttered.
The others laughed.
Ningguang raised her hand.
Sigils bloomed around her fingers.
"If we don't act now, someone else will steal your turn."
"Fair enough."
Beidou rolled her shoulders.
Behind her, the phantom of a wild ancient beast took shape.
"Poor tragic couple…
But—
Sorry."
Her grin sharpened.
And as her words fell—
The cultivators charged.
The final battle began.
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