Chapter 1050: The Blessing of Being Attended by the Nine Great Immortal Sects in Rotation

Jiang Ding and his flying sword, along with an entire unmanned special forces fleet of the starry sky, were sent flying by a single palm strike, sinews and bones shattered, warships and warplanes exploding one after another.

"... Emperor Realm..."

Jiang Ding barely managed to prop himself up with his sword, his chest soaked through with fresh blood, and could not help but be struck with horror.

He looked at his sword.

It had bent.

The sword body now had a thirty-degree arc; even a quasi-Emperor weapon could not withstand it, instantly on the verge of shattering under a Great Emperor's power, utterly unable to hold.

"How did you come to possess the power of a quasi-Emperor?"

A towering flame giant descended, landing beside the Flameflow Imperial Son, and asked slowly.

A tremendous pressure filled the four directions; fire-attribute spiritual energy grew especially restless, cheering, as though welcoming the sovereign of the flame Dao's laws, jubilantly rushing to pledge loyalty.

This flame giant's body was even more terrifying, composed of wisps of heaven-and-earth divine fire; he had cultivated his body for tens of thousands of years, already transforming his flesh into a body of flame divine gold, indestructible and imperishable; any single drop of his fresh blood could collapse the starry sky, slaughter hundreds of millions of living beings, and form an ever-burning abyss of fire.

"Father!"

"Father, Father, you've finally come..."

The Flameflow Imperial Son wept loudly, finding salvation in desperate straits, throwing his arms around the Flame Stone Great Emperor's leg and wailing without cease, endlessly pouring out the tremendous grievance he had suffered.

The Flame Stone Great Emperor's brow furrowed slightly.

He disliked his son's weakness, yet did not show it at this moment; instead, in his heart he planned how to temper him in the days to come, unable to let things go on like this.

Still, deep in his heart, he felt it was understandable.

If he himself, during his Imperial Son period, when his cultivation was still at the General rank, had encountered a quasi-Emperor, he too would likely have despaired so utterly, for the gap in strength was simply too vast; no matter how composed, no matter how unflinching, one would still suffer a crushing defeat, and it would serve no purpose.

"Father!"

"Capture him! I want to use Emperor Fire to torment him for all eternity, I want to flay him and pull out his bones, I want to slowly burn his skull with soul fire..."

The Flameflow Imperial Son's emotions steadied slightly, and he instantly became utterly venomous, pointing at the blood-robed Daoist and shrieking hideously.

Never once had he suffered such humiliation!

Driven to such a state by a servant—even kneeling and begging for mercy was useless; he still had to be slain without the slightest mercy!

This nearly utterly destroyed his pride; such a shame could never be forgotten for all eternity.

The Flame Stone Great Emperor's brow furrowed slightly.

The Flameflow Imperial Son's voice instantly stalled, forcibly cut off.

This endless, nagging, shrew-like cursing truly displeased this Great Emperor; it would have been better even if the Flameflow Imperial Son had drawn his Green Flame Spear right now and charged in to fight.

What is the point of cursing with his mouth?

This shows that his coura

ge has been utterly broken; he only wishes to borrow another's power, no longer daring to act himself, his battle intent cracked, a heart demon appearing in his Dao heart.

"Blood River King?"

"You obtained the Ancient God Dao's secret trove?"

The Flame Stone Great Emperor looked toward the blood-robed Daoist and asked.

His gaze swept over the many warships and warplanes behind this servant; those exquisite creations, those strict and intricate battle formations, were simply not something a loose cultivator could produce—no matter how great a genius. These were not things a single cultivator could accomplish.

"Guess?"

"Hahahaha..."

Yet Jiang Ding showed not the slightest fear, his hand on the sword hilt, laughing wildly without end: "Flame Stone Your Majesty, first meeting, I have one sword!"

"Please do examine it for a moment."

"Please do not be too careless; grant me a measure of small respect."

"Because this sword comes from the superficial fruits of comprehending an Immortal Art, from the crystallized wisdom of my sword Dao gathered over nearly my entire life from birth until now."

Clang!

The Taiqing flying sword in Jiang Ding's hand, already bent considerably, slowly slid from its sheath, growing ever wilder and more excited.

At that instant, heaven and earth seemed to freeze; the wind, the rain, the shattering of space, even the flame laws around the Great Emperor fell silent for an imperceptible instant; space, order, and time all seemed to twist subtly.

Throughout all of heaven and earth, throughout the entire world, and among all living things, at this moment there even appeared a faint tendency to transform into a two-dimensional scroll, as though about to become beings of another dimension.

Within Jiang Ding's blood-and-gold pupils, all of heaven and earth seemed veiled in a faint blood-gold hue; in every direction stretched wisps and strands of blood-gold network, scattered across Shanfeng, mountains, rivers, the great earth, spirit veins, and the bodies of every living thing.

The more powerful the object, the more complex the blood-gold lines upon it.

Mountains and the great earth usually had one or two strands, seven or eight; the Flameflow Imperial Son had several dozen.

An instinct welled up in Jiang Ding's heart.

If his sword could slash into these blood-gold networks, then no matter how powerful the creature, no matter how adamantine and imperishable its defense, no matter how unrivaled under heaven its Gong Fa, it would inevitably be slain in an instant.

And the strongest being here...

Jiang Ding's gaze turned toward the Flame Stone Great Emperor.

"This..."

Jiang Ding's body gave a violent shudder.

What stood before him—where was there any human-shaped creature? It was clearly a vast, boundless ocean of flame!

Wisps and strands of blood-gold network were spread throughout the ocean of flame, as though every spot were a flaw, a weak point, yet none of them truly were; only in the deepest depths did a single strand, like a great dragon, flash and vanish in an instant.

"Kill!"

Jiang Ding could no longer

care about anything.

Trembling in terrible fear, he instantly burned his essence blood within the frenzy of killing intent, burned his magic power, burned his flesh and blood, burned everything he had, pouring it all into the flying sword, forgetting everything entirely.

Clang!

He drew his sword and struck!

Boom!

At the same time, the unmanned Great Sun Group warships' cannons erupted in a self-destructive frenzy, roaring and blasting out pillars of sunlight many times stronger than before. Countless cannon lights converged together, gathering within the Taiqing Flying Sword, forming a dazzling, endless solar flare.

"Flame Stone, Your Majesty!"

Jiang Ding roared wildly.

"This sword—"

"Is the embryonic form of the sixteenth power of the Sword of Gold-Destroying!"

Boom!

A sword-light of solar flare, dazzling to infinity, followed the endless blood-gold patterns across the sky, traced the most efficient sword-path in the universe and within space, and hacked down toward the boundless sea of flames before him.

Even though that sea of flames was endlessly vast and endlessly deep, like a mayfly shaking a tree, he paid it no heed.

He simply cleaved down with his sword!

Whoosh!

This sword-light was so fast it reached the extreme, even initially breaking free of the constraints of space, even seeming to touch the power of time, severing cause and effect, and streaking straight toward the flame heart-core on Flame Stone the Great's left shoulder—the core of his flame body.

"Oh?"

Flame Stone the Great's expression shifted slightly.

That flame heart-core was his body-refining core; even Greats of the same rank could not easily locate it. How had this ant seen it at a single glance?

Still, he did not much care.

Flame Stone the Great extended two fingers—fingers tempered by the divine fires of heaven and earth—and, like an eighty-year-old elder, slowly and leisurely reached out and pinched them together before him.

Clang!

Though space was utterly empty, with nothing there at all, the moment Flame Stone the Great pinched his two fingers shut, a burst of dazzling sparks suddenly blossomed, accompanied by the sharp sound of clashing blades and spears, as great clusters of sparks flared out.

Boom!

A terrifying explosion occurred between those two fingers—the power of a solar flare blooming forth!

Under the frenzied burning of essence-blood by a quasi-Great, the might of this solar flare far surpassed that from the battle against the Flame Quasi-Great. This force was enough to utterly destroy the Flame Quasi-Great's power of flame-order in an instant—no grinding down required; annihilation in a flash.

Yet the smoke and dust dispersed in an instant, without stirring up any aftershock.

That fearsome solar flare merely bloomed, then instantly went out, as effortless as snuffing a matchstick, costing hardly any effort.

"This thing resembling the power of order…"

Flame Stone the Great showed a look of contempt, then froze.

Clang!

At the instant his fingers were about to close—

—that blue-gold flying sword suddenly erupted with a hazy power that surpassed space and nearly reached time, slipping through his fingers in a flash, then flying past his cheek.

Flame Stone the Great's cheek grew faintly cool, then the sensation vanished.

It was a blue-gold flying sword carrying a solar flare that had grazed his cheek, cutting open a wound thinner than a hair, then weakly falling to the ground.

That wound healed in an instant; without careful attention, one could not even tell he had been injured.

But his defense had indeed been breached, and a wound left behind.

Even though that wound was smaller than a mosquito bite, and had healed in an instant.

"Hahaha!"

"Hahahaha… ohhhhhh…"

Jiang Ding's face lit with wild joy. He cheered and leapt about, bouncing back and forth on the spot, waving his arms and gesticulating, ecstatic to the extreme: "Flame Stone! What a waste!"

"To think you were wounded by this lord— and you still call yourself a Void-Great?"

"How utterly shameful!"

"Hahaha…"

He laughed wildly in mockery.

Flame Stone the Great's face darkened like water. He flicked a finger.

Bang!

Accompanied by a bang, the blood-robed Daoist who had been cheering and leaping before him suddenly had his flesh explode, his bones shatter and scatter in all directions, instantly becoming a mass of pulp, leaving only an intact head that tumbled down into the mire of blood and flesh, his life aura fading to the extreme.

This was a single finger from a Great—a strike carrying his wrath.

"Hahaha… ugh."

Jiang Ding's wild laughter had no choice but to stop.

At this moment, his disguise finally dissipated completely. The blood robe vanished, and so did his eerie, strikingly handsome face, transforming into a delicate sixteen-year-old youth. Between his meridians flowed the magic power of the Wan Hua Ci Yuan Jing, utterly different from the magic-power aura of Dong Xue He Wang's *Blood Divine Scripture*.

More importantly, his body carried the aura of an Other Domain—Jiao Jiao Mingyu!

"Other Domain?"

"A human Other Domain sect?!!!"

Flame Stone the Great was struck with horror, as if plunged into an ice cellar.

In that instant, his sudden premonition and soul-instinct finally caught up, belatedly sounding the alarm. Every goosebump on his body rose, his entire soul trembled madly, issuing the most intense warning of his life.

"Hah! Ah…"

Flame Stone the Great instantly went berserk.

He instantly burned all his essence-blood, even beginning to burn the seed of his flame-rule, self-destructively igniting his own Great weapon.

He did not spare a glance for Flame Flow Prince, exploding with everything, burning everything, fleeing at the fastest speed of his life in a mad dash toward the direction of Cang Yan Holy Land.

"…sigh…"

"…Fellow Daoist…"

"…already

"We're late…"

At the very same instant, accompanied by a sigh—one sigh, or perhaps many sighs—nine vast currents of power, each as immense as a river of stars, far surpassing even a Great Emperor's might, flooded the starry sky.

Beneath the weight of those nine forces, the Flame Stone Great Emperor, who had already burned everything he had in a frenzied escape, was instantly shackled in place, utterly unable to stir a hairsbreadth no matter how he struggled.

His body, like amber, froze solid in the void.