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墨書 Inktalez
Zhao Yang originally intended to capture the thief by first taking down the Central Sovereign. He knew that even a master like him could only maintain the ability to transform into a sheep for a maximum of three seconds.
However, techniques like the Transform into Sheep Technique, which was a Super Divine Technique, could only be effective when facing a single opponent in the lower realms of the Cultivation world. If there were two opponents, one would undoubtedly come to the aid of the other.
"Let my Emperor be startled!" The Divine General struck towards the Central Sovereign.
Little Sheep vanished, and from a distance approached a man whose aura was even more powerful and unmatched.
The Purple Gold Imperial Robe draped over him gave him an imposing presence, and those around him trembled under his gaze.
Zhao Yang felt unsteady, glaring at the one who had ambushed him. If it weren't for this person, even if the Central Sovereign did not die, he would be injured, giving the Four Great Monks a chance. This was his only opportunity to act.
Datong took a breath, feeling somewhat dispirited; the Central Sovereign's strike was too terrifying for him to withstand.
At that moment, Zhao Yang pressed the Void Breaking Talisman into Datong's hand and secretly activated it. This situation arose because of him; he could not allow his master to die for his sake.
But strangely, nothing happened.
Was the Void Breaking Talisman broken?
"The void is restrained; the Void Breaking Talisman cannot break through and take us away," Datong guessed weakly, understanding the reason.
Similarly, Song Baliang's Void Breaking Talisman also lost its effect and suddenly ignited spontaneously. The Central Sovereign looked at them expressionlessly, with boundless killing intent.
Just moments ago, he had felt the true power of the Transform into Sheep Technique. Even someone as strong as he was instantly drained of all his cultivation without any defense or True Qi to utilize. He was unable to react at all; such a technique was guaranteed to hit and left no room for defensive measures. It was simply too outrageous.
The three Divine Generals and Datong Zen Master met and attempted to flee, only to find themselves surrounded by numerous royal experts—noble lords and generals from the court, all of whom were formidable fighters, representing the strongest combat power in Zhongzhou.
"Ah, you three should just leave; why come back?" Datong Zen Master complained.
The three Divine Monks exchanged smiles but said nothing. Though they were monks, they were still human. Their practice of Buddhism embraced the idea of first entering the mundane world before seeing through it; how could one speak of enlightenment without experiencing life’s trials?
Over the years, the Four Divine Monks had become confidants.
Thousands of Nascent Soul Stage cultivators, dozens of Dao Fruit Stage cultivators, and several Great Ascension Stage cultivators charged forward. Datong Zen Master roared, shaking the mountains and rivers. With the Earth-shattering Technique in hand, he struck down fiercely, causing many nearby Nascent Soul Stage cultivators to perish without escape. However, he was powerless against the Dao Fruit Stage and Great Ascension Stage cultivators due to their sheer numbers. Severely injured, he could not hold on any longer.
Meanwhile, the Central Sovereign stood not far away, watching them die off like a spectator at a circus.
Zhao Yang's fingers twitched as he retracted the Flying Knife's Glimmer. In a recent ambush, he had killed a Nascent Soul Stage expert with an Inch of Light. Even if that person’s Primordial Infant had fled into the air, he could not escape; a Supreme Dao Artifact still posed a significant threat to Nascent Soul Stage cultivators.
One Divine General with hair cascading over his shoulders had Divine Fire flickering in his eyes, resembling an enraged deity. Zhao Yang suddenly felt an ominous premonition; he continuously activated the Crimson Gold Characters on his body for protection.
Two beams of light shot forth as if they had traversed the primordial universe and crossed endless starry rivers to arrive here. They pierced through Datong's chest as he bravely defended against them, penetrating his already transformed golden body. Zhao Yang exerted all his strength to resist this deadly light, but his palms were silently pierced through. His body tilted dangerously but still could not evade; he was flung three yards away with a transparent hole in his shoulder.
Seeing Datong on the brink of death, the Three Great Monks erupted in fury and fought fiercely against dozens of Nascent Soul Stage experts. However, every time a Divine General struck, they spat blood—no match for their opponents.
"Brother Zhao Yang!" Liu Rou cried out. She felt helpless in such a battle; her lovely face was filled with panic, evoking sympathy from those around her.
Song Baliang and Nangong Wuxin felt equally powerless; they were trapped in this space and unable to escape. The Four Divine Monks were gravely injured and nearly exhausted.
Long Xiao Wu formed hand seals, preparing to transform into a dragon for one last desperate attempt. With his current strength, transforming into a dragon would pose a significant threat to any Nascent Soul Stage expert.
The man with Divine Fire burning in his eyes swept through the air, sending Datong and others flying. Nangong Wuxin, Song Baliang, and Scholar Xiu were hurled away, rolling far on the ground, their bodies charred. Long Xiao Wu's hand seals were interrupted as he was thrown back, the dragon energy around him dissipating. In the face of such overwhelming power, he was ultimately nothing, not even given a chance to complete his seals.
Zhao Yang's eyes revealed a sense of pity as he watched his companions about to turn to ashes, soon to become just a grain of sand in the history of Cultivation, a trivial past in the river of time. In that moment, a voice thundered in his mind, prompting him to look up at the sky and softly ask, "Why?"
Why am I destined to be a forgotten past? Why must I die? Why am I so weak?
It felt like a sigh.
No deity appeared, nor did any miracle occur. He was not someone decreed by heaven to be immune to death.
Similarly, Sun Wukong did not appear.
Yet everyone heard his voice—everyone.
The White-Haired Elder in the Hundred Thousand Desolate Mountains of the Eastern Region heard it. The Demon Empress draped in a Purple Cloud Battle Robe in the Southern Domain's Sky-reaching Forest heard it. The Old Crone, frail and trembling in the Boundless Desert of the Western Region, heard it. The Eerie Woman standing before a mural in the Northern Extreme Icefield also heard it.
—"Why?"
They showed expressions of contemplation and murmured, "Whose Primordial Spirit is whispering?"
Meanwhile, Yu Qingsnow, who had been on her way and had already reached the royal city, also heard it. Her eyes suddenly turned red because she could never forget this voice, even though it sounded somewhat low and hoarse at that moment.
Far away, in an extremely mysterious place within the Cultivation world, He Qing opened her eyes while practicing meditation. Tears streamed down her face as she stumbled to her feet, her hair cascading over her shoulders. She cried out, "Zhao Yang, my Zhao Yang!"
In the mysterious place where He Qing was located, amidst an enigmatic ritual filled with profound energy fluctuations, a slightly weathered scholar-like man opened his eyes and said, "Send me to the royal family; my son is in danger."
Behind him floated a massive figure, identical in appearance to him, surrounded by swirling Purple Qi. The figure was ethereal, resembling an immortal, and though dead, it seemed as alive as any living being. Its clothing was ancient and worn, as if it belonged to another era.
Around the ritual, the chants of many White-Clad Priests abruptly ceased.
"How could this happen? The ritual has failed?" murmured a Superior standing high above. His eyes were devoid of any white, resembling two blue sapphires.
"No, it hasn't failed. The voice we just heard must have been his son, a lament from before death," said an Aging Voice. His long hair trailed down to the ground, and his beard followed suit. He sat upon a High Seat, appearing frail and aged, his skin wrinkled and clearly nearing the end of his lifespan.
"Send his Primordial Spirit to the Central State Royal Family; otherwise, he will harbor resentment in his heart and the ritual cannot continue. My Zhao Clan Imperial Family is on the brink of extinction; our future depends on him."
Meanwhile, in Falling Flower Valley, the Consort of Rain, holding a Dream Orchid, also heard the lament. She looked up towards the distant sky as if seeing something that stirred her anger. In an instant, she vanished from her chamber.
The elderly elders remaining in Falling Flower Valley suddenly raised their heads to gaze at the sky. A red light, bright as the sun, surged towards Central Imperial City. They trembled as they exclaimed, "It is the Valley Master!"
Even those surrounding Zhao Yang heard his whispered words clearly; the voice echoed in their hearts, sending shivers down their spines.
A group of royals surrounded Zhao Yang and his companions, coldly observing them. Seeing their feeble state, Zhao Yang closed his eyes. In a situation where their cultivation levels were worlds apart, no one could turn the tide—not even him.
Long Xiao Wu's breath was weak; blood trickled from his forehead. He glanced at Zhao Yang before turning to the Central Sovereign and said, "Today you kill us; tomorrow you will undoubtedly meet your end. If my father is enraged, the Dragon Clan will emerge in full force, and all of Zhongzhou will be slaughtered due to your ignorance!"
The Central Sovereign's expression remained cold as he said nothing. To prevent any untouchable beings from appearing, he mobilized all royal forces with the intent to crush these talents in their cradle.
He waved his hand in a decisive gesture.
A Noble wielding a great halberd swung it towards Zhao Yang. Tears streamed down Liu Rou's face as a demonic voice echoed through heaven and earth: "No—!"
Then, Willow Branch appeared on all the fallen individuals, lifting them up as countless Willow Buds bloomed, seeking to escape the void.
Everyone around was trapped by the Willow Buds, making it difficult for even the Nascent Soul Stage cultivators to move. However, Liu Rou was only at the Core Formation Stage. Although she was the representative disciple of Falling Flower Valley, she was still just a disciple. No matter how special her abilities were, they could not affect the Central Sovereign or the Ten Divine Generals.
If she were dealing with ordinary experts, the abilities displayed by this young girl would be truly astonishing; not only could she control individuals beyond her level, but she could also control groups.
The Central Sovereign looked on with a cold gaze, making no move.
A Divine General with a strand of White Hair sighed and said, "It seems that none of this group are ordinary people. I truly wonder who managed to gather them together."
Meanwhile, the unconscious Scholar Xiu suddenly awoke at Liu Rou's shout. The scene before him was chaotic and filled with devastation. Scholar Xiu gasped in shock as he saw the dying Four Great Monks, the bloodied Song Baliang and Nangong Wuxin lying on the ground, and Zhao Yang with his eyes closed.
He was stunned and looked towards the Central Sovereign. In front of that man clad in a Purple Gold Imperial Robe stood the Ten Divine Generals from the renowned Twelve Divine Generals of the Cultivation world. He felt a surge of fear because he did not want to die; he wanted to plead for mercy from the Central Sovereign. But his brothers were here, and so was Zhao Yang.
No one in this world is unafraid of death; Scholar Xiu was no exception.
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