Extra Basket - Chapter 166 - 153: Division Cup Vorpal vs Storm (7)

This year, Ji Jingqiu is 16 years old.To survive, he envisions the Fire House Buddha Prison, plants a bodhi treasure tree, and embarks on the path of martial arts.Many years later,A brilliant light arises, illuminating endless darkness.A towering ancient tree, with emerald green leaves and a canopy like a pavilion, rises with glass-like clarity into the sky, supporting a divine realm of pure land, spanning countless ages, illuminating the three realms and ten directions.On this day,All martial artists under heaven look up to it, like mayflies seeing the blue sky.......“Within there is a bodhi tree, which I planted when I set foot in martial arts, and now it has grown to provide a canopy.”“I see everything in the world, and nothing is like me.”“That year, I scoured history books, this history without era, I looked horizontally and vertically, and saw those characters – ‘The world’s storms come from us.’”...— Excerpt from the autobiography of Ji Jingqiu, the proud sun of the martial arts world of today.

Read at least six chapters, then prepare to crave the rest.The main character will show up in Chapter Five, though I don't recommend skipping the first four chapters.-----The world was celebrating. The Demon King was dead, along with his Darkness Generals.Humans led the other races to war for subjugation. They killed all, and none were spared. However, thousands of years before this happened, a piece of history was altered by time itself. In fact, the Demon King didn't have four generals but only one, which he sealed and sent into eternal slumber. Just as he started to close his eyes, the chains locked away for eternity shattered into pieces.

Chen Sansi traveled back to the chaotic end of a dynasty, thankfully with the hardworking system by his side. He originally wanted to hunt to earn money and someday go to the Martial Arts Hall to learn some basic fist and foot techniques, aspiring just to be an ordinary rich man. Yet, fate had other plans. With officials imposing heavy taxes and the Martial Arts Hall bullying the citizens, he had no choice but to enlist in the army to survive, becoming an archer. From “archery (entry-level),” he worked tirelessly up to “operating a ten thousand weight bow, where arrows cannot be dodged,” taking the heads of enemy generals from a hundred miles away! From “basic soldier’s spear technique,” he worked tirelessly up to “National Guardian Dragon Spear, growing more valiant with each battle,” standing firm with a spear on horseback, alone turning back the Enemy Army of a million! Years later, Chen Sansi, having campaigned in the south and battled in the north, was truly invincible under the heavens, commanding two hundred thousand of the Iron Cavalry. Watching his subordinates forcibly ascend him to the throne and become emperor, he felt quite helpless: ’You... you have really caused me trouble!’

It's simple. A vengeful wildfire of a woman. A tyrant who begs to be burned.When Aria crashes into Kael’s empire, hellbent on making him pay for taking her job away, she’s met not with defiance—but a dare. “You want revenge?” he taunts, voice dripping with dark invitation.“Then ruin me. Take your pound of flesh exactly where it hurts.” His proposition is a trap laced with sin: As expected he calls the shots in his bed, her contempt is his twisted aphrodisiac.“Hate me until your hands shake,” he growls. “But do it on top of me, where I can watch you savor every cut.”Their arrangement is a collision of dominance and delirium. Aria wields her fury like a blade, determined to break him. Kael? He thrives under her wrath, goading her darker, deeper, hungrier.But vengeance turns slippery when every command she hisses ignites his obedience, and every cold glare melts into bruising kisses. Soon, the bed becomes a battleground—her nails carving victory into his skin, his whispers a serpent’s promise: “Chain me with your rage, darling. I’ll still come back for more.”The rules are simple: No mercy. No surrender. But as their games spiral into something ravenous, who’s destroying whom? And when hatred burns this hot, what’s left when the ashes cool?