Chapter 1029: Achieving the Emperor Realm

Mo Teng Xiao Gao Jie, night.

A river of blood flowed across the sky, twinkling and undulating together with the moon and stars, weathering wind, frost, rain, and snow — a part of nature itself.

Over the years, the countless living beings of Mo Teng Xiao Gao Jie had grown accustomed to the river of blood in the sky, no longer living in constant dread.

Wars, riots, births, and breeding among the many slave races unfolded across the land as always, just as they had for untold years — the only difference being the absence of the Horned Demon Imperial Race, which had made life far easier for the myriad races.

Cultivators no longer had to sacrifice their essence blood and lifespan to refine treasures; Qi Refining cultivators could easily live past a hundred, Foundation Establishment cultivators past two hundred, and Jin Dan cultivators no longer withered into frail old age with their essence blood drained dry…

Everything was so beautiful.

Until today, when the river of blood in the sky began to show signs of revival once more.

Boom!

Boom boom!

Boom, boom, boom…

A heartbeat-like sound, like the pounding of a great war drum, emerged within the river of blood. A colossal life form, woven from the auras of billions of living beings, appeared once more between heaven and earth — bearing a sky-devouring killing intent, and an endless greed for the blood and lives of all living things.

Countless creatures were chilled to the bone; tens of thousands of miles fell silent.

All wars, births, dances, breeding, farming, marching… ceased. Every living being stood frozen in terror, not daring to make even the slightest sound.

In the sky, within the river of blood that pierced the heavens, a face began to emerge — blurred, handsome, and eerily bewitching.

"It's coming, coming, coming…"

"Finally, it's coming, coming, coming, coming…"

The colossal blood-colored face whispered.

A voice emerged.

Though clearly a single person's voice, it sounded as if billions spoke at once — a man's voice, a woman's voice, an infant's voice, an elder's voice, the deep heavy voice of a Yan Yan Race cultivator, the muffled yet resonant voice of a Xuan Hu Race cultivator… All manner of voices were contained within that single utterance, bringing with them countless echoes.

Dong Xue He Wang looked at a fresh-red blood sword floating before him.

Countless faces wailed — faces of the Horned Demon Imperial Race, faces of ninth-tier and seventh- and eighth-tier slave races. They screamed madly, cursed with venomous hatred, and stretched out dense, blood-drenched arms, trying to tear free from the flying sword — only to be pressed back by a layer of blood membrane, never to find release for all eternity.

"Cang Kong, what kind of surprise will you bring me?"

Jiang Ding Zi murmured.

In that instant, he sensed a faint, icy locking of his soul — a causal lock that bound his soul no matter what, impossible to escape or dispel.

This was an extremely high-level causal tracking art; Dong Xue He Wang had neither the ability to break free of it nor such an inheritance.

However, he had no intention of breaking free.

The current Dong Xue He

Wang, having absorbed the blood and souls of countless living beings, had grown vastly stronger in power, but at the same time teetered constantly on the brink of qi deviation, incapable of executing any tactical maneuvers — no repositioning, no concealment, no escape.

He had only two choices.

Zi Wo Feng Yin and wait for time to pass, spending a thousand years to wear away the resentment within the blood of billions of lives.

Or fight and kill — kill until madness, and ultimately find transcendence through battle, suppressing the demonic thoughts of countless living beings, completing a self-purification and sublimation of the Blood Dao demonic cultivation.

There were no other possibilities.

Jiang Ding gazed toward the distant sky, waiting in silence.

He did not know how long had passed.

Hum!

As spatial runes flickered, an ink-wash illusion of a small village by a stream, with a shepherd boy, appeared between heaven and earth, gradually becoming solid.

"Oh?"

Jiang Ding was somewhat surprised.

Even he, a complete outsider to the art world, could see that these ink-wash brushstrokes contained an extremely high level of artistic achievement, evoking a beauty beyond words — utterly at odds with the Horned Demon Imperial Race's crude and direct cultural style.

However, this was not all that strange.

Every race had its rebels; the occasional Horned Demon Imperial Race powerhouse who loved art was hardly surprising.

Whoosh!

Whoosh whoosh!

At Jiang Ding's thought, the thousand-li river of blood surged into waves, and hundreds of thousands of blood-red sword qi sprang into being — carrying an indomitable will, they rained down like ten thousand arrows, drowning the gradually solidifying ink-wash illusion into nothingness.

Striking an unprepared enemy — this was the proper way of warfare.

Yet those countless blood sword qi struck only empty air.

The countless sword qi fell upon the ink-wash painting of the small village by the stream, encountering no resistance, passing straight through.

As if the small village by the stream, seemingly right before his eyes, were not truly before his eyes at all, but rather in some far-distant other space, untouchable by those in the present world.

"An extremely brilliant and unfamiliar spatial technique…"

Jiang Ding's gaze sharpened.

He knew he could not stop the arrival of the Horned Demon Imperial Race's people — he was being crushed in the domain of spatial techniques.

Still, there was no need to fear anything —

Only death awaited.

Jiang Ding stood with hands tucked in his sleeves, waiting quietly.

As spatial runes continued to bloom, the ink-wash painting of the small village by the stream grew ever more solid, until a real small village by a stream was revealed, with the faces of numerous Horned Demon Imperial Race kings appearing before his eyes.

In addition to Cang Kong Di Zi and the others, there was now a glamorous woman bearing eight pitch-black spider legs on her back, along with four Horned Demon Imperial Race kings with powerful auras.

The auras of these kings, who had been in an unknown space, suddenly became real — no longer ethereal and distant, but easily within reach.

The river of blood flowed

and surged between heaven and earth, enveloping the thirty Horned Demon Imperial Race kings.

The river of blood stretched across the world, covering thousands of kilometers; the kings were like a single leaf in the sea, in danger of capsizing at any moment.

"Oh?"

"Dong Xue He Wang, you've stopped running?"

The Cang Kong Imperial Son was somewhat surprised.

In the past, whenever Dong Xue He Wang spotted his main force, he would flee in an instant, never making contact at all — that was the main reason he was so difficult to deal with, more troublesome than an army of millions.

Yet now, he wore the look of a man resigned to his fate.

This left him feeling a touch of regret.

With the Ancient God Dao's painted boat in hand, the Cang Kong Imperial Son had still wanted to savor the thrill of the chase a little, to sit and watch his quarry thrash about in despair — burning essence blood to escape was useless, he could not flee, and would be utterly defeated before the fleeing speed he himself took such pride in.

Only thus would it be a great pleasure of the mortal world.

Still, this feeling was only a fleeting flash in the Cang Kong Imperial Son's heart; he possessed sufficient self-control and would not truly carry it out, intending instead to strike down his foe in the most efficient manner.

"Run?"

"This sovereign will not flee, my emperor-grade provisions."

Jiang Ding shook his head.

His sword intent shrouded the four directions, and his gaze finally settled on the gorgeous woman bearing eight spider legs on her back. He smiled faintly: "Unknown strong one, your strength ranks first among the various kings, surpassing Cang Kong by far. Might this sovereign have the honor of learning your name, and whence you hail?"

"Hehe."

"Dong Xue He Wang, this king's name is Zhu Xing, and I come from the Imperial Guard of the Cang Yan Ancient Imperial Son."

Zhu Xing Wang smiled gracefully: "You style yourself 'this sovereign'? That is very much the manner of a human Soul Transformation Canghai Tianjun. According to the records, in ancient times many human Soul Transformation Canghai Tianjun styled themselves thus. Have you obtained the inheritance of the Ancient God Dao?"

"Hand it over."

Her smile faded as she commanded.

"The inheritance of the Ancient God Dao?"

"Why do you believe so?"

Jiang Ding was somewhat curious, but received no answer, so he asked again: "If I hand it over, can I live?"

"No."

"You will still die — only you will die without pain."

Zhu Xing Wang said coolly: "A servant slaying his master — that is a death without question. No matter how prodigious a talent of another race, it is useless; the crime is beyond pardon."

She said without any concealment.

"Indeed."

"The laws of the Imperial Race are truly strict."

Jiang Ding understood.

Boom!

In an instant, across a domain of several thousand li, blood waves surged skyward, the river of blood reversed its course, forming countless blood-red sword energies that charged down upon the various kings, while a tragic, blood-soaked killing intent spread in all directions.

This battle, to the death!