Chapter 392: The Slay-Witch Sword appears, Chen Ku rages!

Third style of the Opening Heaven Three Styles!

At this moment, there is no more storing power.

Pangu's illusory form, whose towering body pierced the river of spacetime, completely merged with the divine axe in his hand.

It is not a simple swing.

Instead, it pours all the meaning of one's existence, and the supreme Dao rhythm of opening Chaos, entirely into this slash.

On the axe blade, there is no longer the divine radiance of billions of zhang.

All light, all laws, all killing intent are fully retracted, returning to simplicity and truth.

A trace of ultimate gray.

That is the color of Chaos, the ultimate of all things returning to the void.

The moment it slashed, the entire Primordial Great Universe fell silent.

The river of time stagnated, spatial dimensions collapsed.

All flowing laws, all operating orders, before this axe, were forcibly stripped of the concept of existence.

Where it passed, what remained was not a rift, but an absolute 'nothing'.

An eternal scar that neither void nor Chaos can fill.

At the same time.

The power of the Heavenly Stars Great Formation was also driven to its peak.

Di Jun and Taiyi stood above the formation's eye, the sun star and Taiyin Xing, their faces as pale as gold paper, their mana already burning and boiling.

"Heavenly Stars, hear my command!"

"Transform!"

Di Jun's roar was the Demon Race's last dignity and roar.

Within the formation, the Primordial starry sky constructed from endless stars suddenly came to life.

No longer a lifeless starry apparition.

The 365 main stars transformed into 365 towering Primordial star gods, each emanating the terrifying aura of a quasi-saint level.

The countless auxiliary stars turned into armor and divine weapons, draped upon these star gods.

The Milky Way hung inverted, no longer a mere spectacle but transformed into countless order-forged chains of pure stellar power, entwining and guarding, constructing an absolute stellar celestial wall.

Dark light fell, that is the power of stellar extinction, the might of the universe's end.

Any trace is enough to instantly cause a Great Luo Golden Immortal to undergo Dao transformation, their true spirit ceasing to exist.

Above the Nine Heavens.

In the sanctums of the myriad sages, the sages' gazes pierced endless void and fell upon this final point of collision.

Their gazes were solemn to the extreme.

"Orthodox Pangu, ultimately it is orthodox Pangu."

A sage whispered, his voice tinged with an indescribable sentiment.

"After this battle, the Wu-Yao pattern will have a conclusion."

This is the showdown of both sides' deepest foundations, the ultimate collision of two utterly different Great Dao laws.

There was no deafening roar.

Nor was there a heaven-destroying, earth-annihilating energy storm.

When that gray axe-light touched the stellar celestial wall.

An ultimate 'stillness' enveloped the universe.

It was as if the entire world had been pressed pause.

Everyone's divine sense, sight, and perception were devoured by that converging point.

That was annihilation at the level of law.

It was mutual obliteration of the source of order.

The axe-light represents the power of 'opening' and 'ending'.

The stars represent the Dao of 'operation' and 'order'.

The silent clash is yet more terrifying than any form of loud collision.

Even a quasi-saint perfected supreme being, if caught by a wisp of that escaping aura, will have their primordial spirit, true spirit, and even all traces of their existence utterly erased from the river of time.

The next moment.

That ultimate silence was broken.

All spectators clearly saw.

That gray axe-light, upon the stellar celestial wall, tore open a huge breach that cannot be described in words.

Within the breach lay pure, soul-stirring 'nothing'.

It is expanding.

It is expanding madly!

It devours light, devours darkness, devours stars, devours laws.

Where it passed, vast expanses of star god phantoms emitted silent wails, their bodies like weathered sand sculptures, crumbling away inch by inch.

Boom!

A deeply muffled, to the extreme, cracking sound rose from the depths of all living beings' hearts.

That was the universe wailing.

Rumble!

One by one, the manifested Primordial stars began to explode uncontrollably.

The cosmos quakes, all laws crumble!

This is no longer a mirage; it is a genuine doomsday vision.

Numerous powerhouses felt their scalps go numb and chills run through their bodies.

"Hiss... The Zhou Tian Star Dou Grand Formation... is it about to be defeated?"

"The demon clan managed to draw out Pangu's true body to unleash this third heaven‑opening strike; even if they lose, it is an honor."

"This is the true heaven‑opening divine axe—one blow and all things can be shattered!"

"Is the age of the demon clan truly coming to an end today?!"

Gasps rang out from every corner, filled with uncontrollable trembling.

Indeed!

The thoughts of all beings had not yet settled.

The supposedly indestructible Zhou Tian Star Dou Grand Formation, hailed as the primordial world's ultimate defense, suddenly erupted with an unprecedented darkness.

It was the astonishing sight of every star blinking out and shattering at the same instant.

Immediately thereafter.

The formation's intricate patterns cried out under the strain, snapping apart bit by bit.

The formation has shattered!

Pfft—

Pfft-pfft-pfft!

Within the formation, the demon host of hundreds of millions, each gripping a star‑banner, shuddered as one.

It felt as though an invisible heavy hammer slammed mercilessly into their bodies and spirits.

In an instant, a blood‑mist blanketed the heavens.

Numerous demon elites had no chance to cry out before their bodies detonated, becoming pure blood‑flesh energy sucked into the ruptured void.

Even some high‑level demon great beings vomited reverse blood, their aura instantly collapsing to the brink.

Even worse, their flesh split under the recoil, and illusory primordial spirits shrieked as they tried to escape—only to be swept away by the axe's afterglow the next moment, utterly annihilated.

This is not yet the end.

The formation was shattered, but the axe‑light of the third heaven‑opening strike lost hardly any of its power.

It carried the supreme divine might to destroy everything, locking onto Emperor Jun and Tai Yi at the formation's heart and cleaving down with unstoppable force!

The ruler of the demon court, Dong Huang.

These two supreme rulers of the primordial realm now had minds gone blank.

They watched helplessly as the pride that had protected the demon race for eons—their ultimate trump card for dominating the primordial world—shattered like fragile glass before their eyes.

The impact of that shattered conviction even exceeded the harm to their bodies.

Thus, when the gray axe‑light that could end their lives filled their whole field of view, their bodies froze, unable to react at all.

Pfft……

Pfft……

The muffled sound of blood being spat was the only clear note in this shattered starfield.

Blood mist hung like smoke, bones lay like dust.

The bodies of the Ten Great Demon Saints were like kites with snapped strings, torn by an unseen hand and hurled into the void's depths.

Their formidable flesh, able to traverse chaos, was now laced with web‑like cracks; deep in each fissure golden demon blood seeped out, while divinity and vitality were worn away together.

That sight was horrifying to behold.

Even as mighty as Emperor Jun and Tai Yi, the two supreme sovereigns who rule the heavenly court, their bodies tore through millions of miles of space, shattering countless meteoric stars, before barely arresting their retreat.

The mournful wail of the Chaos Bell still echoed in their ears.

The glow of the River Chart and Luo Script had faded to its dimmest.

Though they had not yet neared collapse like the Ten Great Demon Saints, their faces were pallid as paper, their golden hair disheveled and flying, and their imperial aura had vanished.

Their chests heaved violently; each breath tugged at their inner wounds, releasing wisps of golden blood‑qi.

This axe blow exacted too heavy a price.

Not only them, but the foundation of the demon heavenly court—the myriad demon gods—were wiped from the river of time without even a cry, their bodies and spirits obliterated by Pangu's true form's heaven‑splitting strike.

Those beings were all Great Luo Golden Immortals, many of them quasi‑sage titans.

They were the cornerstone of the demon race's dominion over the primordial realm.

Now, that cornerstone has been shattered.

In an instant, the eye sockets of Emperor Jun and Tai Yi filled with blood‑red streaks, a mix of overwhelming hatred and endless madness.

However, on the other side.

The condition of the Twelve Ancestral Witches was likewise grim.

Just three blows had drained all of their strength.

Although the Zhou Tian Star Dou Grand Formation was forcibly shattered and countless demons fell with it, they themselves paid an unimaginable price.

Each Ancestral Witch's lips were streaked with scarlet blood, their pupils clenched tight, as if they had not yet broken free from that extreme force.

Their bodies, as tough as divine metal, bulged with knotted muscles that shuddered uncontrollably; the turbulent blood‑qi inside could not be settled quickly.

The most deadly aspect was.

The phantom of Pangu, who strides the cosmos and wields the divine axe, has completely vanished.

Its power derived from the primordial essence‑blood of the Twelve Ancestral Witches, now spent.

The battle has come to this; the two foremost clans of the primordial world seem to have truly reached a mutually injurious stalemate.

The formation is broken; both sides are already spent.

Next, I'm afraid it will be the most primitive and bloody melee combat.

A great power's voice rang out from the distant horizon of the starry sky, carrying a hint of tremor.

Whether it's the Heavenly Stars Great Formation or the Heavenly Gods and Fiends, their intricate arrangement and terrifying consumption are destined never to be reproduced in a short time.

In that case, how will the scales of victory tilt again?

Difficult, too difficult…… The outcome of this battle remains a haze.

Countless spectators among the living beings debated heatedly.

They could not imagine how this calamity that decides the fate of the Primordial Wasteland would end, now that the strongest formation has been lost.

In their view, the Wu Clan possesses unmatched fleshly bodies; even when exhausted, once they catch their breath, they can still tear everything apart with those two fists.

As for the Demon Race, although their numbers remain vast, their top combat strength has suffered even more severe damage.

It seems the Wu Clan still holds a faint advantage.

However, just as this discussion was about to become a consensus.

A faint, slightly mocking voice sounded in the void; not loud, yet it clearly reached the ears of every great power.

Hehe, is the outcome still undecided?

Everyone, have you forgotten something?

Demon Race, do you still hold a sword in your hand?

The voice paused, then uttered three words, syllable by syllable.

"Slay. Wu. Sword."

Boom!

These three words contain no power, yet they are like a black lightning bolt piercing past and future, fiercely striking the hearts of all living beings.

In an instant, the clamor of the Primordial Wasteland came to an abrupt halt.

Silence.

A suffocating silence descended.

Indeed!

Slay-Wu Sword!

That sword, forged from the blood, flesh, souls, and resentment of billions of humans, is an unparalleled ferocious weapon!

How could I have overlooked the Demon Race's such vicious, world-shaking trump card!

When the Demon Race slaughtered humans, blood flowed like rivers, resentment shot to the heavens; that horrific scene remains a nightmare that many living beings cannot forget.

It was not a mere slaughter.

It was a sacrifice.

A bloody sacrifice to forge an ultimate weapon specifically to counter the Wu Clan!

In a sense, the threat this sword poses to the Wu Clan even far exceeds that of the Heavenly Stars Great Formation!

The formation can be broken.

But what the Slay-Wu Sword carries is a curse and damage aimed at bloodline and origin!

Once this sword is born……

Upon this thought, all the great powers' gazes involuntarily turned toward Di Jun at the center of the battlefield.

Seeing that, the Demon Emperor's face, which had turned pallid from his severe injuries, was replaced by a strange flush upon hearing the three words 'Slay-Wu Sword'.

The hatred and madness in his eyes gradually settled, turning into an extreme cold cruelty.

He slowly raised his head, his gaze crossing millions of li of void to clash fiercely with that of the Twelve Ancestral Witches.

That gaze was no longer the dignity of a ruler, but an indifferent look at a sacrificial offering.

At the same time.

The Twelve Ancestral Witches, these twelve fearless beings who dare to oppose the Heavenly Dao, trembled in unison the instant they felt that gaze.

A chill, unprecedented and springing from deep within their bloodlines, surged through their bodies without warning.

This was not fear of power.

But an instinctive, ultimate loathing and rejection on the level of life itself.

As if something existed from birth solely to destroy them.

The course of the great war seemed, at this moment, to be forcibly twisted by an invisible hand into a direction no one had anticipated.

Perhaps the result will no longer be mutual destruction.

But rather one side…… being completely obliterated.

And all this occurred beneath the suddenly shifting gazes of countless great powers among the myriad races of the Primordial Wasteland, filled with shock and disbelief.

In the arena.

Di Jun and Taiyi stood shoulder to shoulder, their golden imperial robes stained with divine blood and Wu blood, congealing into a heavy dark purple.

Taiyi's Chaos Bell rang incessantly; the new cracks on its wall, like the Demon Race's current situation, were shocking to behold.

"Elder brother."

Taiyi's voice was hoarse, each word carrying the feel of metal grinding on metal.

"It's time to use the Slay-Wu Sword."

His gaze swept past Di Jun's shoulder toward the devastated land.

The corpses of the Demon God and the remnants of the Wu Clan piled up like mountains; the once glorious Demon Race army now has barely a tenth left.

"Today, if we cannot utterly exterminate the Wu Clan……"

Taiyi paused, his throat rolling as he suppressed the surging qi and blood.

"Our Demon Race will then have no tomorrow."

This statement is not a threat, not advice, but a cold fact soaked in fresh blood.

Hatred is no longer important.

The so-called position of overlord of the Wilderness has also become an unattainable illusion.

This is a battle of survival.

The top demon gods, those comrades who once listened to the Dao together with them in the Purple Cloud Palace and feasted atop the Demon Court, have already fallen by more than half.

The backbone of the Demon Race has been broken.

The retreat has collapsed behind them into an abyss of ten thousand zhang.

At any cost, treading on the Wu Clan's bones, only then can they seek for the Demon Race and for themselves that slender thread of hope.

Di Jun did not respond immediately.

His gaze was calm, yet heavier than any anger. He surveyed this utterly devastated heaven and earth, his eyes sweeping over the fallen Wu Clan.

Likewise, mountains and rivers are exhausted.

Burly bodies lay strewn across the scorched earth, their once heaven-shaking, earth-moving vitality all returned to deathly stillness.

The land was dyed two colors.

The golden blood of the Demon Race and the dark blood of the Wu Clan were clearly distinct yet blended together, forming a picture of extreme carnage.

A long silence pressed, causing the surrounding space to begin to twist.

Finally, Di Jun slowly turned his head, looking toward Taiyi.

"Good."

He said only one word.

Immediately, he raised his eyes to gaze at the endless azure heavens; his voice pierced the bloody killing intent, echoing through the nine heavens.

"If that is the case… then… let us unleash the Slay Wu Sword."

His tone held not a ripple, as if stating a trivial matter.

Yet the resolve contained in those words made heaven and earth tremble.

"I suppose it is also enough to exterminate the remaining Wu Clan rabble."

Slay Wu Sword.

This forbidden instrument, born for destruction, Di Jun has never forgotten.

But the cost of using it, even for him, the Heavenly Emperor, must be weighed repeatedly.

Back then, if not for Chen Ku's meddling, this sword's power would have reached its true peak, enough to exterminate all Wu Clan bloodlines.

Now, though it is formed, it ultimately bears a hint of regret.

More importantly, each use of this sword consumes its origin.

That origin is the blood and souls of countless beings.

Use it once, and it diminishes by one.

Previously, the Wu Clan's Twelve Ancestral Wu were all present, the Grand Wu as numerous as trees, their vitality flourishing like a vast ocean.

Even if the Slay Wu Sword is unleashed, it is difficult to achieve total success, and would instead waste its divine power in vain.

But now, the moment has arrived.

At the moment Di Jun made his decision, the last trace of hesitation in his eyes also turned into the ruthlessness that burns the eight wastelands.

He said no more.

He merely raised his hand, pointing far away toward the Demon Court beyond the Thirty-Three Heavens.

"Slay Wu Sword."

"Come forth!"

Di Jun let out a sudden shout.

His voice was not loud, yet it contained the supreme majesty of the Heavenly Emperor.

Words become law!

Boom—

At first, it was an extremely dull, massive roar.

That sound did not come from outside, but directly exploded deep within the heart of every being.

Vast, desolate, ancient.

It seemed like the first gust of wind and thunder when Chaos first opened, and also like the final death knell before the apocalypse.

The source of the sound pointed straight to the Demon Court beyond the Thirty-Three Heavens!

That supreme holy land of the Demon Race is now violently trembling, endless palaces and pavilions shaking, as if some ancient terror that has slept for myriad ages is about to awaken.

An indescribable sense of oppression came from beyond the heavens, instantly enveloping the entire Wilderness battlefield.

Even beings with slightly weaker cultivation could not stand, directly pressed to kneel on the ground, their spirits trembling, bodies prostrate.

Thereafter, under the horrified gazes of countless beings, the true Slay Wu Sword manifested.

Just a glance.

Merely that fleeting glimpse.

Countless mighty beings of the Wilderness watching from afar simultaneously held their breath, pupils contracted to the extreme.

What a magnificent, yet terrifying sight!

Only see, beyond the Thirty-Three Heavens, the void was torn open by an unmatched force into a huge rift.

A sword.

A heavenly sword, huge beyond imagination, is being squeezed out inch by inch from that rift!

Its blade spans ten thousand zhang, stretching across the sky.

The sword's body showed an antiquated, dull gray hue, without any ornate decoration, not even a trace of sharpness.

It simply existed there.

But if a mighty divine-sense practitioner probed it with their spiritual sense, they could glimpse another world upon that plain, unadorned sword body.

Streams of profound, obscure Daoic divine markings covered the sword's body.

Those markings would flare up and then fade, linking and illuminating each other, as if expounding a supreme Great Dao born solely for "slaughter" and "termination".

Weighty!

Majestic!

The Heavenly Sword had not been fully drawn; it merely revealed part of its blade, silently suspended above the Nine Heavens.

Yet the void beneath it, spanning a million zhang, could not bear its weight, collapsing inch by inch into the primal earth, fire, water, and wind.

Rolling black light poured down from the sword's body.

That was not light, but a pure, all-light-depriving "non-light".

Wherever the black light passed, heaven and earth lost all color; the radiance of sun, moon, and stars was completely devoured by it.

The entire world was left with only black and white.

However, this was not yet the most terrifying.

What made all beings' scalps tingle and souls freeze was something else.

A resentment so dense it had become substantive!

That resentment surged wildly from the body of the Slaughter Witch Sword, turning into visible black mist that coiled around the blade.

Within the mist, it seemed as if tens of millions of anguished, distorted faces were silently wailing.

There were elders, women and children, the strong, and infants…

These were humans!

It was the resentment of countless innocent humans slaughtered by the Demon Race to forge this peerless murderous weapon!

Their hatred, their pain, their unwillingness and despair did not dissipate after death, but were all forged into this sword, becoming its core and most vicious power.

Upon the emergence of this immense, irreconcilable resentment, heaven and earth changed color, and the winds and clouds rolled back!

In an instant, the entire Primordial Wilderness boiled over!

All beings who witnessed this scene were in an uproar!

Indeed!

Indeed so!

The appearance of that sword was the end of all rumors and the beginning of all fears.

In the void, countless divine senses probing this place fell into dead silence in an instant.

Those ancient beings standing across the Primordial Wilderness, those mighty titans who boasted of having weathered countless storms, now also wore stiff expressions, their hearts churning with towering waves.

Slaughter Witch Sword.

These three words were, in the past, merely a bloody legend, a distant taboo.

Today, it has taken form, bearing the resentment and wails of myriad beings, suspended above the Nine Heavens.

This is no longer hearsay.

This is an indescribable tremendous shock, a true fear etched deep into the souls.

"With the flesh, blood, and souls of countless humans as sacrifice…"

A mighty one murmured softly, his voice hoarse; the hand hidden within his sleeves had clenched until its knuckles turned white.

"What a Demon Race Heavenly Court, what a Di Jun Taiyi!"

Such means had long surpassed the realm of cruelty.

This is a trampling of the cosmic order, a disregard for all beings, a pure, extreme brutality and madness.

Yet no one can deny it.

That sword, the Slaughter Witch Sword that gathered endless resentment and the power of human bloodlines, its might truly shocks the world and defies convention.

Upon the blade, blood-light flowed like an inexhaustible river of blood.

Though the blade's edge did not move, its faint sharpness already rent the void, causing the surrounding laws to emit groans of being overburdened.

Merely gazing at it made one's heart feel ready to burst and one's soul ache.

Above the Slaughter Witch Sword, the already sky‑high‑soaring Demon Race army's might surged to its peak at this moment.

In every Demon Race warrior's eyes burned a fervent flame; their fighting spirit turned into substantive signal fires that shot up to the heavens, dyeing the firmament a swath of Chaos.

Di Jun stood upon the Heavenly Emperor's chariot, looking down at the orderly ranks below, where the Wu Clan had already begun to stir; he could not help but throw back his head and laugh wildly.

That laugh was overbearing and wild, filled with endless contempt and icy killing intent, turning into rolling sound waves that made the Thirty-Three Heavens hum.

"Ha…"

"Hahaha!"

The laughter ceased abruptly; Di Jun's gaze, like two golden bolts of lightning, locked firmly upon the Twelve Ancestral Witches.

"Wu Clan!"

His voice, each word as if dredged from the Nine Abyssal Ice, carried a bone‑chilling cold.

"Besides that superficial Pangu phantom, what other tricks do you have?!"

"As for this Slaughter Witch Sword, let this emperor see how you will withstand it!"

Before his words finished, he fiercely swept his imperial robe.

"Today!"

"This place!"

"No member of the Wu Clan will escape the might of this sword!"

Arrogant!

Haughty!

That is confidence born of absolute power, the pride of having victory in hand!

In Di Jun's eyes there was nothing else, only the Wu Clan about to be utterly erased; he had indeed become a supreme ruler who judges the end, vowing to uproot the strongest clan on this land root and stem.

The fact was exactly as he had anticipated.

At the moment the Slaughter Wu Sword truly came into being, the Wu Clan's impregnable line first showed signs of internal instability.

Terrifying!

An indescribable great terror!

That was not an ordinary sense of danger, but a death proclamation aimed at the entire clan, stemming from the deepest part of their bloodline.

Countless ordinary Wu Clan beings even dared not lift their heads to gaze directly at the blood-colored ominous sword hanging in the sky.

They only felt their scalps go numb, a chill surging from the soles of their feet to the crown of their heads, their limbs and bones instantly losing warmth.

Hearts trembling with fear.

Shocked to the point of fainting.

Their strong bodies trembled uncontrollably, and in the eyes that should have been full of fighting spirit, fear appeared for the first time, impossible to suppress.

Too terrifying.

That sword, too horrifying.

Even before it actually struck, just the traces of Slaughter Wu aura emanating from it pierced their sturdy flesh, striking straight at the source of their bloodline, making them feel their lives being torn away by an invisible force.

Even the Twelve Ancestral Wu who stood heaven-high could no longer remain composed.

The divine light of laws surrounding them first showed signs of disorder.

Hair after hair stood on end uncontrollably.

That was a throbbing that penetrated deep into the marrow and immersed the soul, an absolute restraint on the level of life.

It was as if the Wu Clan blood they took pride in, before this sword, became a naked target with nowhere to hide and no way to resist.

One can see how astonishing the Slaughter Wu Sword's restraint over the Wu Clan is.

Spatial Ancestor Wu Di Jiang, the power of spatial law around his body surged violently for a moment, then he forcibly suppressed it.

He slowly lifted his gaze, his eyes piercing through layers of blood evil, coldly glancing at that huge Slaughter Wu Sword.

He forcibly calmed the agitation and palpitations arising from his bloodline.

"Hmph, Di Jun! Taiyi!"

Di Jiang's voice was not loud, yet it contained endless anger and killing intent, like a thunderclap that clearly exploded across the noisy battlefield.

"You beasts, indeed your violent nature is hard to tame!"

Each of his words seemed to be squeezed out from between his teeth, carrying the taste of blood.

"Countless human beings have bled at your hands; this immense karmic debt will surely make you wish you were dead!"

Di Jiang gritted his teeth, his eyes like torches, his face as still as water.

Although the Wu Clan had once imprisoned humans.

But that lofty pride and self-importance, stemming from deep in their blood and belonging to the Pangu Orthodox, made them disdain to raise a slaughter knife against ant-like weaklings.

That is a defilement.

It is a defilement of the bloodline of Pangu Father God.

At this moment, Di Jiang's eyes were fixed on the ominous sword hanging above the Nine Heavens, feeling the resentment and wails of the countless beings dead within it; even his primordial spirit as an Ancestor Wu felt waves of stabbing pain.

His chest heaved violently, the boiling qi and blood around his body nearly turning into a substantial blood-colored tornado that tore the azure firmament.

"Di Jun!"

Each of Di Jiang's words seemed to be squeezed out from between his teeth, carrying the heaviness and fury of metal grinding on stone.

"This sword was forged with the essences of countless humans; such immense karmic consequence—can you, demon race, bear it?!"

The roar turned into tangible sound waves, rolling out and shaking the stars of the heavens.

Yet, facing a question that could make an ordinary Quasi-Sage's heart and spirit collapse, Di Jun did not even lift his eyelid.

"Haha..."

A light laugh leaked from the corner of Di Jun's mouth.

Immediately, the laughter grew louder and wilder.

"Hahahaha... immense karmic consequence?!"

Di Jun suddenly raised his eyes; in his golden pupils there was no emotion, only the indifference and coldness of looking down upon the ages.

"Ridiculous, truly ridiculous!"

"Di Jiang, you have cultivated through endless kalpas, yet you still do not understand the most fundamental principle of this Wilderness."

He slowly rose to his feet; the bearing of the Heavenly Emperor, like an endless ocean, instantly swept across the entire battlefield.

"In this heaven and earth, there is no right or wrong, only strength and weakness."

"The weak are prey to the strong; the victor reigns supreme—this is the eternal truth!"

Di Jun opened his arms, as if to embrace the entire Wilderness.

"Today, if my demon race wins, there will be supreme beings to compose myths for us, proclaiming our heavenly mandate and extending our authority over the land."

"As for those humans..."

The corner of his mouth curled into a cruel arc.

"They are merely the blood-stained steps on my demon race's path to the highest divine throne; they can become sacrifices for our hegemony, which is their eternal glory."

The ruthlessness and lack of feeling in his words caused countless mighty beings watching to feel a chill in their hearts.

To slaughter countless beings, in his mouth, became a trivial matter, even something taken for granted.

These remarks overturned the cognition of countless beings.

Yet upon careful consideration, it cannot be refuted.

One general's success is built upon ten thousand bones.

This has always been the case since ancient times.

Di Jun's words turned into the final straw that broke the scale.

He could no longer be bothered to waste words with these "barbarians".

The killing intent in his eyes completely condensed into substance.

"Kill!"

One word.

Just one word.

Yet it contains the Heavenly Emperor's boundless will, where words become law and heavenly decrees command earth!

Hum——

Above the Nine Heavens, that silently hovering Wu-Slaying Sword moved in response.

It emitted no earth-shaking sword cry, only a faint tremor, as if an unparalleled ferocious beast that had slept for hundreds of millions of years opened its eyes at this moment.

A shudder of the blade tore the high heavens!

A pallid white blade radiance burst from the sword tip; it was not extremely fast, yet it carried a strange law that disregarded space and time, instantly enveloping the densest part of the Wu Clan battle formation below.

That radiance bore an extreme cold that penetrated to the marrow and froze the primordial spirit.

In an instant, the pressure borne by the entire Wu Clan army surged more than tenfold!

"Howl!"

Countless Wu Clan great witches and elites unleashed earth-shaking roars.

They felt no fear, only utter fury.

"Form the formation!"

"Rise!"

In an instant, countless Wu Clan beings gathered in one place, their Pangu essence blood driven to the extreme.

Boom!

Boom!

Visible columns of blood-colored qi shot up, converging into the Sea of Blood; each Wu Clan member's flesh burst with immortal radiance, tendons and bones ringing like divine metal.

They unleashed their bodily power without reservation.

One punch!

One palm!

Countless attacks capable of shattering stars and splitting the earth coalesced into a torrent of heaven‑destroying, earth‑annihilating force, which surged forward to meet that pallid blade radiance.

This is the Wu Clan's purest and most confident power.

Yet what happened next made all Wu Clan members' hearts and gallbladders feel like they would burst.

That mighty torrent, which had always been victorious, sweeping across the present age and even able to shake the Heavenly Circuit Stars Grand Formation, upon contacting that pallid blade radiance, melted away like spring snow under a scorching sun, silently and without a trace.

There was no earth‑shaking explosion.

There was no tremendous clash of laws.

It simply vanished in that strange way.

Ordinary Wu Clan attacks could not even cause the Wu‑Slaying Sword to pause the slightest.

Instead, that pallid blade radiance did not lose speed; its might grew greater, and wherever it passed, countless strange rays of cold shot out from the main blade radiance, enveloping the Wu Clan beings below.

A Great Witch, whose flesh rivaled a low‑grade innate spiritual treasure, stared wide‑eyed, ready to throw another punch.

But that cold light flashed.

His movement froze.

The fury and fighting spirit on his face also froze.

The next instant.

Pfft!

Without a scream or struggle, his body—that indestructible Wu Clan battle body—exploded without warning into a fine mist of blood that scattered across the high heavens.

Not a wisp of his true spirit could escape.

This was merely the beginning.

Pfft! Pfft! Pfft!

All Wu Clan beneath the Great Luo Golden Immortal, whether Heavenly Witch or Earthly Witch, could not endure even a breath once enveloped by that cold light.

Their flesh burst open one after another, body and spirit annihilated.

The scene was not a battle but rather a unilateral erasure.

Blood rain filled the sky, pouring down.

Just moments ago, the Wu Clan formation had been mighty as a rainbow, its fighting spirit soaring to the heavens; in an instant, a huge and ferocious gap appeared.

In a moment, the situation reversed.

……

Meanwhile,

The west, Mount Sumeru.

Upon its summit, ancient tranquility.

Golden Buddha light and the radiance of the Seven Treasure Marvelous Tree intertwined, transforming this place into a pure land unstained by dust.

The wind was still, the clouds were fixed, even the flow of the River of Time seemed to have turned into a motionless painting here.

Jieyin Daoist bore a pained expression, his countenance solemn and dignified, the prayer beads in his hand turning, each bead as if having twisted an eon.

Zhunti Daoist held the Seven Treasures Marvelous Tree, a faint smile on his face, his gaze drooping, as if overlooking the joys and sorrows of all beings in the Three Realms.

Hongyun Laozu, clad in a red robe, sat leisurely upon the mat, clouds swirling around him, forming a world of his own, carefree and at ease.

The three had been silently observing the heavenly secrets here, not knowing how many ages had passed.

Sages are heartless, yet not without feeling. What they behold is that boundless, endless torrent of the human dao, and that upon the Primordial Wasteland, struggling to survive yet bursting forth with vibrant vitality, the immeasurable fortune.

At a certain moment.

The fingertip turning the prayer beads paused slightly.

The compassionate smile froze suddenly.

The gathering and dispersing intangible mist stalled abruptly.

The three were as if struck by lightning; within their souls, a sharp, piercing crack burst forth explosively.

That sound belonged to no worldly noise; it was the wail of the Dao, the anguished howl of the fortune's golden dragon having its spine severed alive!

An indescribable bloody despair, from the distant human realm, surged upstream along the unseen threads of causality, rushing straight into this pure land.

Jieyin, Zhunti, and Hongyun Laozu didn't even have time to deduce the heavenly secrets or investigate the source of that calamity.

Their gazes, unconsciously, converged upon one point.

The three glanced sideways.

They looked toward the silently standing figure beside them.

Chen Ku.

There, Chen Ku, who had originally been sitting cross-legged, still maintained his original posture, motionless.

Yet everything around him had changed.

The reason is nothing else!

Simply because he is Chen Ku.

Simply because he is the Holy Father of humanity!

Humanity, which he and Nüwa forged with the supreme work of creation in the Primordial Wasteland, shaping life with his own hands.

One could even say that, in certain respects, Chen Ku contributed more to humanity and expended greater effort.

That is not a cold creation.

That is his child.

In the depths of every person's soul is imprinted a trace of his breath.

In the source of every person's bloodline flows his Dao and principle.

Over these many years, for this newborn, fragile race, Chen Ku has exhausted his mind and plotted through the ages.

He had paved the way for them, blocked calamities for them, contended with the Heavenly Dao for them, and dyed the azure sky with their blood.

The fortune of humanity is his fortune.

The lifeline of humanity is his lifeline.

The two have long since merged into one, inseparable.

When humanity thrives, his Dao gains a measure.

When humanity declines, his body loses an inch.

At this moment, what tragic wail and resentment surging upstream from the human realm could twist the very laws of the summit of Xumi Shan!

Naturally, Chen Ku could not possibly ignore such a matter.

He doesn't even need to 'manage' it.

Because that pain, that despair, the sky‑high blood debt of countless beings slaughtered in the same instant has turned into the most vicious curse, the sharpest blade, following the thread named the father‑son bond, it hacks at him, blow after blow!

Just then.

Crack—

A soft sound.

Not thunder, not wind.

It was the golden mat beneath Chen Ku, the immortal sage's mat that had survived myriad calamities, which without warning froze inch by inch and then shattered into dust.

A chill.

A chill potent enough to freeze a sage's heart of Dao, emanating silently from within Chen Ku's body.

This chill did not come from the Nine Underworlds, nor did it originate from the Yin.

It sprang from an emotion.

A fury suppressed to the extreme, then utterly erupting…!

The auspicious Buddhist light that had originally twined around the summit of Xumi Shan, in the moment this chill permeated, actually emitted an unbearable 'hiss—', its radiance swiftly dimming, like residual snow under a scorching sun, rapidly evaporated and consumed.

Zhunti Daoist's Seven Treasures Marvelous Tree, its radiant light flowing with endless Dao rhythms, also trembled slightly, its brilliance withdrawing inward, as if in fear, as if in submission.

Jieyin and Hongyun Laozu were even more profoundly shaken in mind and spirit.

What they saw was the space around Chen Ku solidifying inch by inch, turning into a substantial, dark crystal.

It was not ice, but time and space itself frozen by absolute will and killing intent!

It seizes the heart and soul.

No, it crushes the heart and soul!

Next, Chen Ku's tightly closed eyes slowly opened.

No sun or moon sank.

No galaxy faded.

There were only two beams of pure, extreme intensity, as if they would cleave the entire primordial world—a fierce gleam!

Boom!

That fierce gleam was not light, but a manifestation of will.

It pierced the void, tore apart the laws, and made Mount Sumeru tremble violently.

A pressure, a terrifying pressure beyond words, descended with a roar as he opened his eyes.

This pressure, as heavy as hundreds of millions of primordial divine mountains pressing down, made even sages like Jieyin Zhunti feel a sudden suffocation.

This pressure, as violent as a Chaos demon god tearing open heaven and earth, sought to drag everything into ending and destruction.

The three knew.

This was Chen Ku growing angry.

No.

This is not anger.

This is the Human Race's Holy Father, feeling heartache for his children...

It was that endless heartache that forged this supreme killing intent that burns the heavens and boils the seas!