Chapter 196: Breaking Through the Mortal Body's Shackles

Now the entire Honghuang's attention is drawn to the witch‑undead final battle, a perfect opportunity. Even if powerful beings sense something amiss, at this critical moment of the Great Calamity's eruption no one dares to take risks.

With a flash of movement, Zhou Yi already appears in a hidden sector of the North Sea.

This place is far from Human Race settlements, so it won't involve his people and can evade all eyes.

As he closes his eyes and concentrates, mysterious furnace‑cauldron silhouettes gradually manifest around him, a vast aura soaring straight to the heavens.

Suddenly, the whole sea is shrouded by heavy calamity clouds, a terrifying pressure spreading toward Honghuang. The great powers that notice the anomaly cast their gazes, but as Zhou Yi expected, on the witch‑undead battlefield the Eleventh Ancestral Witch is locked in a deadly struggle with Dong Huang.

Other strong ones are even more reluctant to get drawn into the Great Calamity vortex.

At this moment, no one has the energy to watch this quietly arriving Dao‑verification heavenly tribulation.

Ming He Ancestor is now pacing back and forth toward the North Sea, this being the seventh time he has kicked the Asura General in the Sea of Blood into a magma pool.

The Primordial Slaughter Sword's hilt in his hand is nearly stripped bare, and the attendants of the Seventy‑Two Halls of the Sea of Blood have already fled a hundred li away.

If we speak of the feud between him and Zhou Yi, from the brocade carp that seized the Spiritual Mountain merit pool to the lotus seed that contested the Chaos Azure Lotus, every episode adds fresh hatred onto old grudges.

Not to mention this time it even involves Hongmeng Purple Qi; tolerating him would mean he's no longer the top dog of the Sea of Blood.

Seeing the North Sea sky gather thunder clouds, Ming He Ancestor suddenly kicks the blazing red lotus at his feet, stumbling: "Will that kid finish the tribulation? When he truly becomes a Great Emperor, where will this old face of mine go?"

Even so, during their previous clashes Zhou Yi's underhanded tricks were all noted in his little notebook—using Chaos Bell as bait, deploying the Extermination Immortal Sword formation as fireworks—who knows what trap he's set for this tribulation.

Three purple bolts of lightning suddenly slash through the thunder clouds, flattening the western shore of the Sea of Blood for thirty li. Ming He Ancestor gulps three jars of Forgetful River blood brew, grabs his twin swords and charges out: "Whether prepared or not, if we miss this heavenly tribulation I'll rename myself Ming He Turtle."

The North Sea has now become a thunder‑fire hotpot, its base churning with phantom images of various Preheavenly Treasures.

The projection of the Abysmal Primordial Slaughter Twin Swords draws a ten‑thousand‑foot blood scar across the sky, while the illusion of the blazing red lotus scorches the sea surface into hissing smoke.

Zhou Yi sits cross‑legged at the vortex's core, his body entwined with hundreds of law‑chains; watching closely, those chains twist the sky‑full Thunder Light into fragments and swallow them into his body.

"Interesting." Zhou Yi suddenly opens his eyes, a fist—Boom—disperses the incoming thunder‑tribulation version of the Extermination Immortal Sword formation.

From the shattered Thunder Light falls a half‑real fragment of the Slaying Immortal Sword, which he thrust backward into the calamity cloud as a lightning rod.

The Quasi Saints watching from afar nearly pull their beards bald; this isn't a tribulation at all, it's bandits robbing a heavenly tribulation!

The thunder cloud suddenly splits open nine heavenly gates, each releasing a lightning‑shaped figure wielding a treasure. Zhou Yi laughs like a glutton seeing a full banquet: "Perfect, I'll use you as whetstones!"

Speaking thus, he dashes into the Thunder Sea, faint bronze‑cauldron patterns and dark‑yellow tower silhouettes flickering between his fists and kicks.

If Ye Tian Di were present he'd probably curse the streets; this kid has taken the Nine Secrets unification technique from Zhetian and forced it into a rogue style that levels up while taking cuts.

Under the rolling thunder of the firmament, Zhou Yi stands atop the North Sea. His Dao‑technique trace has long transcended norms; the calamity cloud it summons now is a hundred times denser than that of ordinary cultivators.

The Preheavenly Spiritual Treasures that had been hovering half‑air suddenly tremble, ripped dozens of li away by the raging thunderstorm.

"Since we cannot overwhelm the myriad ways, we'll integrate and comprehend." Zhou Yi's robe flutters, hundreds of ancient scripture phantoms appearing around him.

These script characters inherited from different eras clash, gradually forging in the thunder‑tempering into a brand‑new Dao pattern—his unique method of Dao verification.

Deep within the clouds, three‑colored lightning erupts, dragon roars, phoenix cries, and kirin howls shaking the sea into surges. The thunder avatars of the three primordial ancestors burst forth, each bearing the peak pressure of a Great Luo Golden Immortal.

The Ming He Sect Leader watching from afar has his pupils contract sharply, the Primordial Slaughter Abysmal Twin Swords in his hand humming autonomously as a warning.

"What tribulation is this madman provoking? It's clearly the great calamity of Heaven and Earth reborn!" The Sea of Blood's lord subconsciously retreats a hundred li; he clearly sees Zhou Yi tearing the reverse scales of a thunder dragon with his bare hands, the shattered Thunder Light turning into new runes that merge into his Dao body.

Even more terrifying, the heavenly tribulation that should have lasted nine days has already cycled through forty‑nine days and nights.

In the battlefield's center, a blazing white sphere erupts; Zhou Yi's Dao robe shatters, yet his eyes shine like bright stars.

The Chaotic Dao seed hovering over his chest ravenously devours the tribulation thunder; the originally raging Heavenly Dao power is transformed into nourishment for his cultivation.

The Ming He Sect Leader suddenly crushes the jade talisman in his hand; 129,600 Blood‑Divine Son avatars silently seal off the entire North Sea.

"When your oil runs dry and your lamp burns out…" the blood‑cloaked elder glares coldly at the battlefield, yet fails to notice Zhou Yi's fleeting cold smile at the corner of his mouth. Deep beneath the sea, an ancient vibration resonating with the calamity cloud awakens.

Below the North Sea abyss, the Ming He Sect Leader gathers his blood‑qi, his eyes blood‑red as he stares at the anomaly beneath the firmament. The blue‑garment cultivator currently undergoing tribulation is precisely the foe he has chased for thirty years.

At the center of the thunder‑cloud vortex, Zhou Yi has no time to spare for distraction.

Now his garments have turned to ash, his bronze‑hued flesh constantly cracking and re‑forming; each time he activates the secret healing script, it feels as if he's being sliced by countless steel blades.

The ancient Spiritual Treasure phantom he just shattered turned into stardust that fell, yet a more lethal murderous intent has already surfaced.

Three towering figures tear through the thunder curtain, the clatter of scale armor and phoenix cries, dragon roars causing the sea water to flow backward.

If an ordinary cultivator were here, just these three pressures would shatter the primordial spirit.

Zhou Yi wipes the golden blood from his mouth and says coldly, "I never expected the Heavenly Dao to summon the lingering regrets of the three founding ancestors of creation."

This is no ordinary tribulation thunder illusion; each phantom bears the primal Dao principles from Honghuang's dawn. The primal kirin's hooves strike ley lines, triggering landslides; the primordial phoenix's twin wings raise infernal fire; the ancestral dragon's tail sweep warps space itself into fissures.

The combined might of the three ancient overlords would even make the two Sun Palace Lords of the Heavenly Court step back.

Zhou Yi tears the lightning chain from his waist, the blood mark on his brow flaring like the blazing sun. He transforms into a streak of light, charging at the three ancestors' phantoms; the collision of his fist with the kirin's horn sends shockwaves that grind a glacier field a hundred li away into powder.

"Back then you could dominate Honghuang; today I'll shatter this Heavenly Dao's shackles!" In his roar, Zhou Yi's left arm is pierced by a phoenix's beak, his right leg sliced off by a dragon's tail, yet new flesh sprouts instantly.

This fierce battle is no longer merely a contest of cultivation, but a direct clash of will against the Heavenly Dao.

The Ming He Sect Leader in the shadows has his pupils contract; he clearly sees each drop of Zhou Yi's spilled essence burning a Great Dao pattern in the void. Such a lethal scheme forces even a half‑step Saint‑realm master to swallow regret, yet the madman keeps breaking his mortal shackles in the dire situation.

When the final Dao‑thunder tribulation is crushed by Zhou Yi's bare hands, the entire North Sea falls into an instant of silence.