What is termed as "Heaven on the Edge of the Horizon" is another kind of Daoist skill for swift travel, though in truth it is also a movement technique, which can be utilized in combat.
Similar to "Shrinking Ground to Inches," both are among the fastest Daoist skills known in the Mortal World.
Heaven on the Edge of the Horizon; the Horizon on the Edge of Heaven.
Just as Li Mingzhu was countless miles away on the open sea from Three Mountains Island only moments ago, in the next instant, he was already outside the island.
With his current cultivation, it's undoubtedly impossible for Li Mingzhu to wield Heaven on the Edge of the Horizon to such an extent, yet he had secretly arranged a Great Movement Array to aid him—although simplified using a jade scroll, it still proved more than sufficient.
Heaven on the Edge of the Horizon combined with the Great Movement Array—crossing tens of thousands of miles of sea in mere moments is effortless.
Ao Yu gazed in shock at the place where Li Mingzhu had vanished; he had left just like that?
For a moment, Ao Yu felt lost, overwhelmed by worry. But what could he do?
Despondently, he returned to the Dragon Palace.
It was merely at the wrong time, in the wrong place, encountering the wrong person—thus their paths inevitably diverged. Yet, he couldn't understand why his heart ached so.
Now that Li Mingzhu had gone to Three Mountains Island, Ao Yu knew that regardless of the outcome, there was no future for the two of them. A maiden's youthful love was over before it had even begun.
Petals fall with emotion, but the flowing water has no intent; yet was Li Mingzhu truly indifferent?
Could he truly not have guessed Ao Yu's identity? In truth, it was not the case. The reason for his decisive actions was merely to prevent Ao Yu from falling deeper into sentiment.
For someone to appear in Xuanlong Palace's treasure vault, so familiar with its workings, and even manage to conceal the matter—coupled with tracking him down across the vast ocean—Li Mingzhu would have to be utterly foolish to not deduce Ao Yu's identity.
He chose not to expose it. Seeing through but not speaking of it—for future opportunities might still arise.
Meanwhile, upon arriving at Three Mountains Island, Li Mingzhu did not bother masking his presence; with an arrogance beyond measure, he swept across the skies from outside the island straight to its interior.
Ignoring the multitude of Dragon Palace soldiers, he flew past their heads.
"Ao Bing, the humble Daoist has arrived. What is your intention?"
Li Mingzhu stared at Ao Bing, his words devoid of emotion—yet anyone could feel the air of grim resolve emanating from this slender youth.
"Good. Li Mingzhu, you've finally come. Who'd have thought you'd truly be willing to die for these worthless fools? I suppose my younger sister helped quite a bit with that, didn't she?"
Ao Bing spoke slowly, but his facial expression was dramatic to the extreme. At that moment, he looked less like the Crown Prince of a clan and more like a boastful street thug basking in his triumph.
What made Ao Bing even more malicious was his insinuating tone, which seemed to frame Ao Yu's informing Li Mingzhu as some deliberate ploy—to sow discord and manipulate relations.
Unfortunately, Li Mingzhu's mind was as clear as a mirror, having already seen through everything.
"Ao Bing, release those people, and I'll grant you an honorable death." Li Mingzhu gazed at Ao Bing as though he were already a corpse, pointing to the loose cultivators imprisoned by Ao Bing on Three Mountains Island.
"And if I refuse? Where do you find such confidence to threaten me—do you not know that Three Mountains Island is surrounded by thirty thousand sea soldiers, and you dare walk into death?"
Ao Bing sneered, waving his left hand lightly. Instantly, a vast army rushed forward in an endless wave, obscuring the horizon.
In ancient times, there was a saying: "Cast enough whips into the river, and the flow halts." It was said that if ten thousand men threw horsewhips together into a grand river, the mighty currents could be stopped.
The soldiers surrounding Three Mountains Island numbered less than ten thousand, yet their collective aura rivaled such legendary imagery. This army of thirty thousand could echo such tales in sheer presence.
The Dragon Palace's warriors were all elites from the Sea Clan—the weakest among them possessing cultivation at the Innate Realm, the ninth tier of mortal cultivation.
"Whether you release them or not matters little—the only difference is whether I act now or later. Just like how you're destined to die, the only question is how you'll meet your end."
Li Mingzhu smiled faintly. Despite carrying wrath like surging tides and murderous intent piercing the heavens, his demeanor remained serene as a tranquil lake—another fruit of his three-year cultivation.
Three years ago, Li Mingzhu would have lacked this magnitude of composure and calmness.
"Rescue people? Kill me? Fool's talk!"
Ao Bing guffawed heartily, holding no belief that Li Mingzhu could accomplish either. To him, even Li Mingzhu himself was but an amusing joke.
"Then I shall start by slaying you."
Li Mingzhu stepped forward, the white Daoist robe he wore fluttering despite the lack of wind. Suddenly, the winds and clouds shifted.
The sea was the Dragon Clan's domain, let alone the fact that Ao Bing, the third prince of the Dragon Clan, was present. Yet with a single gesture from Li Mingzhu, the elements rebelled, and dark clouds loomed overhead.
Unleashing the Five Thunders Righteous Skill—a surge of overwhelming righteous energy intertwined with green lightning—thick bolts as wide as barrels loomed heavily, prepared to strike at any moment.
Li Mingzhu advanced again, and countless white needles began to coalesce behind him—Shadowless Needle!
"What are you doing? Don't come over here!" Ao Bing, staring at these manifestations and the steadily approaching Li Mingzhu, spoke in fear.
Li Mingzhu ignored him, pressing forward as Daoist phenomena continuously appeared around him.
The one that incited the most terror in Ao Bing was the ethereal blade—it was named Dragon Slayer. Its Daoist technique, too, bore the name Dragon Slayer—the infamous Dragon Slaying Skill!
Alongside endless Daoist skills manifesting, all remained latent without activating. Yet this very restraint magnified their psychological impact; Ao Bing, paralyzed by terror, dared not even speak further, despite the thirty thousand warriors outside. He was wholly subdued by Li Mingzhu, frozen into submission.
He feared that if he ordered the army to attack, Li Mingzhu's skills would be unleashed directly upon him.
Despite his Golden Immortal realm, in this celestial domain, he was no more than a Primordial Spirit. Moreover, any one of Li Mingzhu's techniques—known as legendary, divine skills—was beyond his ability to defend against individually, let alone together.
While refraining from acting might seem futile, his gambling on Li Mingzhu refraining was nothing short of wishful thinking. If Ao Bing had the resolve for mutual destruction, his army's assault would certainly trouble Li Mingzhu.
Yet, accustomed to lofty self-preservation, Ao Bing could not commit—his own life was always paramount. Such unwillingness sealed his fate.
Heaven and Hell are but a thought apart.
At that moment, Li Mingzhu finally moved, closing the gap between himself and Ao Bing to only five steps.
A thousand Daoist skills surged forth like fireworks gathering before the climax, poised to erupt.
Unquestionably, Ao Bing was the fulcrum of this devastating crescendo.
Mortal fireworks dissipate in an instant, but these Daoist skills did not, successively detonating over Ao Bing—shattering his physical form, then targeting his Primordial Spirit and Divine Soul.
Though Li Mingzhu's thousand Daoist skills appeared formidable, the ones delivering true might were none other than the Five Thunders Righteous Skill and the Dragon Slaying Skill—the rest merely illusionary displays of menace.
In his final moments, Ao Bing repeatedly opened his mouth to speak but never had the chance to utter a word. Likely, he was cursing Li Mingzhu's cunning, or perhaps expressing regret—no one could truly know.
Regret seemed most probable—regret for not mastering more Dragon Clan techniques, regret for not relentlessly hunting Li Mingzhu down three years ago, regret for underestimating his foe or even for leaving his Innate Spiritual Treasure behind!
But the Mortal World holds no remedy for regret.
As previously noted, though Li Mingzhu knew countless Daoist skills, he mastered only a select few.
The overwhelming aura and psychological pressure Li Mingzhu exerted early on completely subdued Ao Bing, making it easy to overwhelm him.
This outcome was likely entirely within Li Mingzhu's expectations.
Tailoring strategy to each enemy—this was one of Li Mingzhu's insights cultivated over three years, honed amidst the vast collection of ancestral wisdom within the Enlightenment Pavilion, where he studied.
After dispatching Ao Bing, Li Mingzhu waved his wide sleeves, releasing the loose cultivators imprisoned within an enormous airborne cage above Three Mountains Island. However, the cultivators' gazes toward Li Mingzhu contained a mix of emotions.
Reverence, fear, resentment, and gratitude.
Li Mingzhu paid them no heed; his actions served only to satisfy his own conscience. How others perceived him was none of his concern.