Chapter 612: The Ancestral Stele Appears!

Boom—

Murky water waves rose like furious dragons, slamming heavily against the towering pillar.

Amid the dark, oppressive sky, divine light flickered, stretching ten thousand li to form a vast, majestic landscape painting; within it, voices clamored as if an immortal court had descended to the mortal world—yet no trace of peace remained, only solemnity and a chilling aura of slaughter spreading silently.

Such a realm-level Liangdaohuang Palace may be the first to appear in Xi Hong in many years.

And two appeared at once.

The two landscape paintings gazed at each other from afar, engulfing the entire Gaoshan Mountain; beneath this ten-thousand-li landscape, the once towering Banshan Sect appeared tiny and fragile, as if ready to collapse at any moment.

"The Liangdaohuang Sect has come in wrath—quickly retreat…"

The nearby creatures who had rushed over out of curiosity quickly sensed something was wrong.

Though their insight was shallow, they knew the Liangdaohuang Sect preached the orthodox path of enlightening all beings and turning everyone into dragons, yet now displaying such tyrannical power, they clearly were not here to visit the Banshan Sect.

"What are they insane about?"

Beneath the glow of a falling dragon pearl, Ye Jiu's eyelids twitched slightly; though he was the sword of Yu Nanhong, bound to follow his lord's will, he was also a man of deep emotion—otherwise he would not have abandoned the chance to kill the Southern Dragon King to save Qi Yansheng.

The actions of the Banshan Sect's leader suited him perfectly.

Now, watching the Meng Sect being bullied, Ye Jiu felt an unexpected flame of rage surge within him: "Even if you're searching for someone or interrogating them, why resort to such a posture of looting and extermination?!"

"This is about establishing dominance."

Zi Xian glanced nervously at the Crown Prince beside her; clearly, her brother's arrogance had made the already sensitive Liangdaohuang Sect feel its shaky position challenged.

Especially in Xi Hong—a place they had always looked down upon.

Now that they've moved, they clearly intend to show all of Xi Hong the Lei Ting of the Liangdaohuang Sect.

In short, a nouveau riche has encountered the original landowners of Hongze—naturally, they must flaunt their gold and jewels to bolster their own confidence.

The Banshan Sect was unfortunately chosen as the target for this display of power.

"…."

Upon hearing this, the three Zongde Sect lords turned to look at the Crown Prince.

If they hadn't come, it might have been bearable—but now that they were present, not even Ye Jiu or Ji Jingxi, let alone the most composed Qi Yansheng, could stand idly by as the Banshan Sect was wiped out.

"Huh."

The Crown Prince knew Ye Jiu's nature all too well; originally, the two had been rivals in every duel, each desperate to kill the other before their friendship was forged.

"I guarantee the Banshan Sect will survive—but not now."

He gazed far into the sky, where two figures clad in splendid yellow robes sat atop the two Liangdaohuang landscape paintings.

Even the Donglong Palace must act according to circumstance.

For instance, earlier, when the Xilong Palace requested aid to resolve the Wan Yao Dian matter, since he had come, he naturally took the lead, with others following orders in support.

But now it's different—these Liangdaohuang Sect members have withdrawn from this matter entirely, choosing to act alone for revenge; thus, they have no connection to the Donglong Palace. If he were to forcibly intervene now, it would seem like bullying.

He understood this group of cultivators better than anyone.

He turned to the three: "Find a way to send word to the Banshan Sect—tell them to prepare in advance, protect the lives within the treasure land, remain calm no matter what happens, and if the Liangdaohuang Sect asks anything, deny everything."

Let the Liangdaohuang Sect vent their anger and display their methods first; if they still insist on slaughter afterward, then the reputation of the Zi Ran Bai Long clan will justify stepping in to stop them.

"Understood."

Ji Jingxi swiftly pulled out a jade slip; her greatest fear now was delay—letting Shen Yi learn of this.

"You mean…" Qi Yansheng frowned, quickly turning his gaze back to the Banshan Sect.

The Liangdaohuang Sect is still an immortal sect, a true leader among cultivators—could they act with absolutely no restraint?

"Hah." The Crown Prince's eyes narrowed slightly as he watched the two figures in the landscape painting; he gave no reply, only a cold laugh.

As if to confirm his words, Si Tu Fuhai and Shi Lianchang silently gazed down—no letter of introduction, not even the slightest interest in announcing their identities.

The two raised their palms as if sharing a single mind, then pressed downward simultaneously.

Instantly, the ten-thousand-li landscape painting slowly churned, as if an invisible pressure pressed down; the towering pillar trembled slightly, then stopped moving within less than a breath.

The great formation shattered without warning.

Yet the two made no move to stop; calmly watching as dense cracks spread across the mountain, stone peeling away to reveal—not bedrock—but the icy edge of another world.

Faces filled with terror stared outward, frozen in place; though their hearts and livers trembled, they still struggled to maintain another formation, preventing the outer world from being affected.

"No wonder they have seventeen branch sects—so practiced."

Ye Jiu closed his eyes, a smile spreading across his face—cold and cruel.

Clearly, destroying formations and wiping out sects was not the first time the Liangdaohuang Sect had done this.

Including this very moment: first destroy the sect, then interrogate; their domineering actions were terrifying, but what truly chilled the soul was the utter normalcy on the two men's faces.

They say that after uniting with the Dao, one becomes a microcosm, shouldering the lives of all beings, and naturally gains a measure of mercy.

But now, in the eyes of these two Liangdaohuang Sect lords, all living things were mere straw dogs—truly embodying the coldness of heaven and earth.

"Stop!"

A red-eyed figure shot out from within the mountain—Huang Wenfa, in a frenzy unlike any before, gripped his great blade and stomped wildly toward the heavens!

Yet he had barely flown ten steps before invisible pressure pinned him in place, as if bound by vines, utterly immobile.

He could only twist his face, spittle flying, roaring upward: "You dogs! If you have grievances, take them out on Old Man Huang! Venting on the treasure land is no feat!"

To Si Tu Fuhai and Shi Lianchang, this late-stage Earth Realm cultivator was no different from the other lives in the treasure land; his curses were as light as wind, not even worth lifting their eyelids.

The towering pillar finally collapsed.

A brand-new inner realm slowly came into view.

Countless disciples and elders stared blankly at the heavens, their hands maintaining the formation beginning to tremble.

This was the realm that had protected them since birth.

And now—the sky had fallen.

"Not enough?!" Ye Jiu whirled around, his flowing light sword materializing in his palm.

"Enough."

The Prince Prince Ziyang Crown Prince exhaled lightly, stepped out from the shelter of that dragon pearl, and said, "Wait here for me."

"Rest assured, he will be fine." Zi Xian softly comforted the several Nanhong Sect leaders.

In this Hongze region, there were few matters his elder brother could not settle; it was merely a matter of lacking a proper pretext.

Before the words had fully faded, Zi Xian noticed her elder brother slowly halt his movement.

She grew somewhat irritable, saying, "Can you stop waiting! Do you intend to worry someone to death?"

"..."

The Prince Prince Ziyang Crown Prince frowned, staring ahead, and only after a moment turned back to ask, "Who is that?"

Upon hearing this, everyone stepped forward in unison, looking toward the direction of the Banshan Sect.

Situ Fuhai and Shi Lianchang's gazes also fell upon the same spot.

Within the exposed inner court of the Banshan Sect, a towering ancestral hall was rapidly collapsing under invisible pressure, turning to dust; the main beams shattered, revealing its true form.

Amidst the ruinous hall, a figure sat cross-legged.

Waist-length black hair hung disheveled, a dark robe fluttered slightly, and the person appeared somewhat hunched, looking rather wretched.

Especially that Bai Xi and handsome face, now even more despondent as if suffering from an incurable illness; a pair of eyes filled with bloodshot veins, carrying threads of confusion.

Traces of saliva from a recent dry heave remained at the corner of his lips.

He raised his gaze slightly, first sweeping across the surroundings, then looking up toward the sky.

Under the gaze of those bloodshot eyes, Situ Fuhai raised an eyebrow, slowly taking out an object resembling a sundial; bloodlight reflected upon it, casting down a shadow.

That shadow spun wildly upon the sundial, finally halting and pointing downward, directly at the figure in the dark robe!

"Heh! Heh!"

A sinister smile finally surged upon Situ Fuhai's face; he leaned forward, his voice deep and resonant like a bronze bell: "This Seat asks you..."

The moment the words left his mouth, his expression changed slightly.

Within the shattered ancestral hall, the young man in the dark robe stood up slowly and deliberately, as if that invisible pressure did not exist for him.

His expression was wooden; he brushed his robes, and as his long five fingers descended, a black blade with golden patterns already appeared in his palm.

The blade's edge hung diagonally toward the ground.

The youth raised his head, his hoarse voice sounding as if he had just awakened from sleep, carrying a hint of weariness.

"Shh."

He raised his index finger, placing it to his lips; a faint curve appeared at the corner of his mouth, and he whispered, "Save it for your next life to ask."

As the words drifted away, a trace of chilling killing intent suddenly appeared within that fleeting smile of his!

"Tsk."

The instant he heard these words, the Prince Prince Ziyang Crown Prince already had his answer.

Glancing back at the expressions on the others' faces, this answer became even more certain.

"You guessed correctly; this is Shen Yi."

Zi Xian forcefully rubbed her forehead, glaring over with displeasure: "You like to wait, do you! Now everything is ruined!"

"..."

The Prince Prince Ziyang Crown Prince was not quite clear how a cultivator at the mid-stage of the Heavenly Realm could slay Yue Gonggui, or how he could make someone as proud as Ye Jiu reveal such an expression.

Even less clear was how the other dared to utter such arrogant words to the two leaders of the Liangdaohuang Sect.

Clearly, Situ Fuhai and Shi Lianchang had not figured it out either.

The two were stunned for an instant, then their expressions returned to indifference; this signified they were truly enraged, rather than merely performing as they had before the living beings of Xihong.

The Map of Ten Thousand Miles of Jiangshan simultaneously transformed into a sky-obscuring curtain, sweeping toward Shen Yi.

Within it, figures swayed; as if sensing a call from heaven, they pressed their palms together and began endless chanting.

"Dao Huang Suppresses Demons!"

To ensure the strike would succeed, the two unleashed profound Dao arts immediately.

Facing the sky-obscuring curtain, feeling his soul being torn, Shen Yi lowered his hand; his eyes were filled with gray mist, and that dense gray mist quickly began to dissipate outward.

The Path of Ten Thousand Calamities, Heartless.

Having already witnessed all suffering and ultimately attained the Heartless Immortal Dao, how could he be affected by such noise?

The gray mist surged violently with the wind, directly seeping into the Map of Jiangshan, then at a speed barely visible to the naked eye, crazily dyed the entire map.

The chanting beings suddenly had their expressions become numb; their originally tightly clasped palms gradually fell weakly, and thus the surroundings became quiet once more.

Pfft—

Shen Yi raised his blade; the black-gold edge spanning heaven and earth rose with a dragon's roar, ruthlessly pierced into the Map of Jiangshan, and then slashed!

"Withdraw!"

Situ Fuhai sensed something amiss and hurriedly shouted a warning.

Shi Lianchang reacted swiftly, leaping up, intending to temporarily leave this Map of Jiangshan.

In the next moment, he watched as Shen Yi, holding his blade, walked out slowly from that rift; beneath the tangle of disheveled hair, his face showed no fluctuation, merely approaching him with clear purpose.

As if looking at a dying man.

"Heh!"

Shi Lianchang was unsure of the other's true strength and had no intention of clashing directly; he planned to return to the Dao Huang Palace first.

He transformed into a streak of light, rushing straight for the Dao Palace.

Just as he was about to land upon the meditation cushion, Shen Yi merely watched silently, then gripped the blade's hilt tightly.

In an instant, the entire heaven and earth seemed to freeze.

That streak of light which had already rushed into the Dao Palace appeared to be smashed by a divine mountain; a figure fell out from within the light, plummeting straight downward.

With a thunderous crash, Shi Lianchang hit the ground and raised his head; what met his eyes was the young man's upright standing figure, and a face looking down with calm indifference.

At last a hint of panic stirred in him: "Wuliang zhen—"

In the instant he formed his hand-seal, that Dao Palace had already come pressing straight down from above, releasing golden radiance that wrapped Shi Lianchang's entire body within it.

But his words still came to an abrupt halt.

The grey in Shen Yi's eyes grew ever thicker; his right arm thrust out fiercely, and within the Dark-Gold Long Saber a dragon's cry shrieked sharp and keen.

If even the armored Calamity Qilin could not withstand the Azure Dragon Sun-Devouring Strike, how could a single Dao technique hope to block it?

The golden radiance was like a sheet of thin paper before the blade's edge.

Before Shi Lianchang could finish pronouncing the last syllable, he was already staring blankly as the saber blade plunged into his own chest; the Dark-Gold edge began at once to tear at his Dao Infant and five viscera.

Nevertheless, as a branch sect master of considerable seniority in the Wuliang Dao Huang Sect—

—how could he possibly freeze up in the middle of a magical duel?

Almost in that very instant, he hauled himself up, fiercely wrapped his arms around Shen Yi's leg, and shrieked at the same time: "Summon the Ancestor—"

Boom!

Shen Yi casually reversed his palm and brought it down on the man's cheek; that fine, whole head exploded instantly into a mist of blood.

From beginning to end, he had not spared Shi Lianchang a single extra glance.

Even when, from within that slowly toppling body, a phantom figure suddenly darted out and fled toward the Jiangshan Painting, it still failed to rouse his interest.

"Si Tu, shield me for a moment!"

The phantom kept its composure, fleeing swiftly, not daring to hesitate in the slightest.

So long as he could make it back to the Dao Huang Palace, the duel would only just be beginning—the Ancestor Stele had yet to be summoned, and he still had a host of measures unused!

Just then, two massive phantom fierce-tigers leapt out from the void.

One dark, one white, in perfect accord with the Great Dao.

Demon Emperor armament—Yin-Yang Life-and-Death.

That sturdy, ferocious Dark Tiger, as if it had foreseen all along, appeared precisely upon Shi Lianchang's path of escape, then opened its bloody maw wide, waiting for the phantom to throw itself inside.

The Dark Tiger chewed vigorously a few times, then swallowed Shi Lianchang whole along with his panicked, wretched, piercing screams!

After all this was done, the two fierce tigers transformed into the Yin-Yang Dark Pendant and slowly settled into Shen Yi's palm.

"…"

Situ Fuhai stood within the Dao Huang Palace, the five fingers forming his hand-seal trembling slightly.

Every one of Shi Lianchang's thoughts seemed to have been within this young man's grasp; this person's understanding of the Wuliang Dao Huang Sect had reached a terrifying, heart-palpitating degree.

Just as his mind was thrown into disarray—

Shen Yi slowly tightened his grip on the jade pendant, turned his gaze sidelong toward Situ Fuhai in the Dao Palace, and amid his disheveled strands of hair, the corner of his mouth suddenly lifted.

A clean, pure smile.

Yet it made Situ Fuhai stumble backward, retreat step after step, and lean against the giant stele phantom that had just risen—his breathing ragged and rapid.

Upon the stele there were no characters, only image after image of Dao Palaces, from bottom to top—how many tens of thousands!

(End of this chapter)