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墨書 Inktalez
At this moment, Yao Qi Jiu Liu Ba felt a surge of blood and energy, unable to suppress it any longer, and spat out a mouthful of green blood. How long had it been since he felt this way? It seemed like it was only the last time he was sent flying by that old man with a single palm strike.
The Spirit Energy in this area was completely disrupted; peach blossoms continued to fall, but the once full Demon Idol had vanished without a trace.
In the first round, Yao Qi Jiu Liu Ba was utterly defeated.
He had been careless, thinking he could be invincible on this planet, but now he finally began to take the young boy before him seriously. The Demon Slayer Technique began to circulate within him once more.
This body limited his abilities; only in his demonized state could the Demon Slayer Technique showcase its true power. Yet, he couldn't bear to abandon this physical form. Even so, the pride of the demon race would not allow him to appear weak.
The Demon Idol reappeared, transforming from its fragmented state into a towering figure over a hundred feet tall. Torrential demon flames seeped from within the giant statue, instantly enveloping a vast area.
"Jie, jie, jie." A strange laughter echoed around.
"Child, the reason the Demon Slayer God can slay gods is that it truly can slay gods." An absurd remark rang out. The Demon Idol strode across miles of yellow sand, charging directly toward Zuo Dao.
Accompanying it were arrows transformed by demon fire, each as finely crafted as an adult's waist and over ten feet long. They carried wind and sand, wrapped in arrows; the giant Demon Idol exuded an overwhelming presence.
With each step, it kicked up clouds of yellow sand, leaving deep craters behind and causing the ground to tremble. In front of it, Zuo Dao appeared as insignificant as an ant—so small and unnoticeable.
The massive form and heavy body did not hinder the speed of the giant Demon Idol; it covered a thousand meters in an instant.
A tremendous crash resounded once more. Even Hong Chuang was shaken by the sound, his blood surging uncontrollably. Unable to restrain himself any longer, he spat out a mouthful of fresh blood, staring ahead in terror.
One finger of Zuo Dao compared to the hundred-foot Demon Idol was like a needle piercing through a giant tree.
A single punch aimed directly at it.
What immense power must this be! Hong Chuang wailed inwardly.
The assault of the Demon Idol was halted; enraged Fire Rush let out a silent scream as another massive hand came crashing down.
After being summoned by Yao Qi Jiu Liu Ba, the hundred-foot Demon Idol had become an independent entity. Its autonomous thoughts made it feel that its dignity was deeply tarnished by this ant-like person before it. It could only crush this person to regain some satisfaction.
Another deafening roar pierced through the air as if thunder had struck in the void, shattering everything around. Hong Chuang felt as if his heart might burst from the shock; Ghostly Old Monster was even worse off, collapsing onto the ground. At that moment, no one laughed at him—who could look better than him?
Once again, a finger pointed, but this time it radiated with golden and white energies, resembling a pair of lotus flowers blooming together, opening within the realm of the Demon Idol.
Two fingers.
Yao Qiujing's eyes widened in disbelief.
Just two fingers, and it had injured the Demon Idol. Who exactly was this young man? A reincarnated immortal? A divine being descended?
Impossible!
Yao Qiujing screamed inwardly.
At this moment, Zuo Dao was also feeling uneasy. He recalled how he had just merged with the Sword Dance, only to suffer a backlash.
He had been a bit too arrogant; it wasn't the right time yet! Zuo Dao shook his head, glancing at the Demon Idol and then at Yao Qiujing. This thing was quite impressive, somewhat similar to the "Great Dream Hammer Technique" he had seen in his previous life, yet distinctly different. The law is shaped by man, but this towering figure clearly had its own intentions.
Interesting, truly remarkable.
Yao Qiujing, however, was not concerned with Zuo Dao's thoughts at that moment.
How could the Demon Slayer Technique be ineffective? He vaguely remembered the saying, "When the God Slayer emerges, all gods face twilight."
He felt that his thoughts were struggling to keep pace with this era. Nevertheless, he needed to deal with this young cultivator in front of him first; the demon king was waiting for his summons.
"Bind." Complex hand seals danced at his fingertips like a blooming poppy flower—beautiful yet dangerous.
The Demon Idol had already retreated before him, seemingly sensing something.
Zuo Dao did not rush to attack; he remained still, silently observing every movement of Yao Qiujing. However, the flickering between his fingers nearly frightened Yao Qiujing to death when he caught a glimpse of it.
More demonic than a demon.
The traces drawn by Zuo Dao's fingers were entirely from the Demon Slayer Technique's finger techniques. Yao Qiujing desperately wanted to halt his movements but reluctantly gave up.
The Demon Slayer Technique, once activated, could not be halted. Yao Qiujing comforted himself in his heart.
"Fortunately, the opponent is just a person, not a demon."
The speed of both individuals increased, generating sparks from the intense friction. One was a terrifying anomaly, while the other radiated brilliant sunlight.
The same Cultivation Method wielded by different hands indeed produced varying effects.
Zuo Dao felt the weak spiritual energy within him, which had been as fragile as a droplet of water, suddenly begin to boil and overflow. He was overjoyed. The lack of spiritual energy had always been a source of pain for him; how could a Cultivator without spiritual energy be considered a complete Cultivator?
Sword Cultivators and Power Cultivators were nothing but traps; if they lacked spiritual energy, Zuo Dao was certain he would have smashed himself against a block of tofu.
Though the increase in spiritual energy was not substantial, it gave him hope.
The prelude was finally complete. As Yao Qiujing finished the hand seals, he merged into the body of the Giant Demon Statue. The Demon Idol underwent a second transformation, rapidly shrinking while its momentum became even more refined.
Thunder roared, and what had just been a blazing sun over yellow sands transformed into a storm of thunder and lightning in an instant.
Interesting, Zuo Dao thought as he looked up; this was the Moling Star's local rules roaring in anger, unlike ordinary thunder. Just one great demon had drawn the attention of the Dao; it seemed this Demon Slayer Technique had its extraordinary aspects.
At that moment, Yao Qiujing felt his internal power growing infinitely—what an exhilarating sensation! Reaching for the stars and plucking the moon was nothing compared to this; if he could explode a planet with one punch, he would believe it.
Yet why did his opponent still appear so calm?
Before he could ponder further, he unleashed a punch. It wasn't that he didn't want to wait any longer; he simply couldn't afford to. He could no longer absorb that much demonic power—if he didn't release it soon, he would self-destruct.
An even more terrifying scene unfolded. Before his fist arrived, it already lifted Zuo Dao's clothing at the edges, shattering space wherever it passed.
The punch shattered the void; this was beyond what Nascent Soul Great Perfection could achieve.
Retreat!
Hong Chuang and the others did not need Zuo Dao's reminder; they flew back without hesitation, even skimming past the Colorful Light Sphere without pausing for a moment. Everyone knew that staying put now would mean certain death.
No one had any confidence that the young and terrifying Cultivator could withstand that punch.
Retreat—just a single word. With a frenzied surge of spiritual power, he withdrew over a hundred miles before finally halting, gazing into the distance.
"If this is the ultimate secret of the Demon Slayer God, then what am I? Thank you for allowing me to comprehend."
Although he had retreated over a hundred miles, Hong Chuang and the others still clearly heard the words of the White-Clad Young Monk, as if a lover was whispering in their ears.
"Demon Slayer God."
The tone was soft, seemingly telling a story that captivated the minds of all the Cultivators.
Yet the thunder grew louder, and the lightning shone brighter.
The way does not yield; who dares to defy?
At that moment, Yao Qiujiu felt darkness enveloping him.
"Have I lost? It seems so! Finally, I can have a good rest."
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