Chapter 394: Life for Life, the Heavenly Pillar Shatters!

The reason Mount Buzhou is indestructible and can support this boundless heaven and earth lies perhaps in that very Pangu's Heart.

The heart is the source of the Great God Pangu's power.

It holds the infinite essence of Pangu from when he was alive, and also inscribes the terrifying law of that power which opened heaven and earth and rules over all things.

Each beat of the heart injects immortal divinity into Mount Buzhou.

It is precisely because of this power's nourishment that Mount Buzhou has become the undisputed first divine mountain of heaven and earth, suppressing earth, water, fire, and wind, and stabilizing the four poles and eight wildernesses.

But today, everything has changed.

The Wu Clan has already exhausted its resources, and all its trump cards have been played.

To unleash the ultimate strike of Pangu's true form, the Twelve Ancestral Witches, as if drinking poison to quench thirst, forcibly seized the origin blood accumulated over hundreds of millions of years in Pangu's Heart, turning it into a supreme slaughter against the enemy.

The power has been drained.

The divinity is dissipating.

Mount Buzhou has lost its core support.

The tremors beneath their feet grew ever more violent, and each boom of the law's collision from the distant horizon added another crack to Mount Buzhou.

This divine mountain is heading toward destruction.

And once it collapses, the heavens will fall!

Upon thinking this, Chen Ku's gaze completely changed.

It was a mixture of gravity, resolve, and a hint of deep-hidden, scarcely perceptible fervor.

He no longer hesitated.

The moment has arrived.

Chen Ku abruptly turned, his gaze sweeping over the three figures beside him.

Jieyin.

Zhunti.

And Hongyun.

His voice was not loud, yet it carried an undeniable weight, clearly cutting through the battlefield's clamor and the heavens' lament.

"Master, Uncle-Master, Fellow Daoist Hongyun!"

Jieyin's face bore suffering, as if all the world's woes gathered in his brow, yet the depths of his compassionate eyes were still as an ancient well.

Zhunti held the Seven Treasures Wonderful Tree, its branches and leaves swaying lightly, shedding specks of pure light that dispersed all surrounding violent aftereffects; his face showed no joy or anger.

Hongyun, the first kind-hearted soul of the Primordial Wasteland, now pallid, gazed at the distant battlefield where beings suffered and blood flowed like logs, his eyes full of pity and reluctance.

Hearing Chen Ku's call, the three simultaneously focused their gazes on him.

"The great battle has reached its final chapter; we too should act."

Chen Ku's words were decisive.

Final chapter.

It is the final chapter of the two supreme hegemonic clans, the Wu and the Yao.

But it may not be the final chapter of the Primordial Wasteland.

It is more likely the opening act for their Western Sect, or rather, the future Buddhist Gate, upon the stage of the next epoch!

Upon hearing this, Jieyin's look of suffering faded slightly, replaced by a calm of fate.

He asked neither why nor how.

He merely gave a slight nod.

A single nod outweighs a thousand words.

Zhunti's lips twitched as if he wanted to say something, but in the end he merely glanced at Chen Ku, then at his senior brother, and finally let out a low sigh that held both resolve and anticipation.

Hongyun stared for a moment, then reacted.

He looked at Chen Ku's youthful yet exceedingly composed face, his heart filled with mixed feelings.

He owed too much karmic debt to the Western Sect.

Had it not been for the protection of Jieyin and Zhunti, he would have long since perished in the ambush after the lecture at the Purple Cloud Palace, leaving not even a trace of his true spirit.

This kindness must be repaid with his life.

Today might be the time to repay that debt.

"But as you command, Fellow Daoist."

Hongyun clasped his hands, his expression solemn.

Chen Ku gave the three a deep look, then said no more.

"Go!"

A single word fell.

The four immediately leapt upward.

There was no earth-shaking aura eruption, no terrifying power that tore the void.

Their movements were even gentle.

Yet beneath their feet, endless mystic light suddenly burst forth.

That light began as mere specks of radiance, instantly coalescing into four golden lotus platforms.

Upon the lotus platforms, dao patterns flowed, Buddhist chants arose, steadily supporting the four figures and isolating them from all external violence and impurity.

The four figures thus slowly rose.

Toward the boundless heavens above, toward the heavenly pillar now cracking, toward the core of the Wu-Yao battle, they drifted.

……

Meanwhile.

On the battlefield, the scale tilted to its utmost in an eerie silence.

The Slaughter-Witch Sword, which pierced myriad ages and gathered endless resentment and curses, bore a black light that was the bane of the Wu Clan's flesh—an unstoppable law of destruction.

Now, this law, before the twelve towering demon‑god divine forms, crumbled inch by inch.

The twelve Ancestral Witches, in their most primal and savage guise, fearlessly hurled their chests, arms, and heads at the sword that spanned the heavens.

Each impact burst forth with a terrifying sound wave capable of rending the myriad worlds.

Each jolt saw countless strands of black calamity light ground to nothing.

That rolling cascade of black light was rapidly thinning and dimming at a speed that made heaven and earth lose color.

In the void, the myriad primordial experts watching this battle trembled in body and soul.

Hiss—

The sound of drawing in cold breath rose and fell across the blessed grotto‑heavens and above the Nine Heavens' Cloud Sea.

"Feeding the sword with one's flesh, grinding the great dao's killer with blood and meat… Is this… still the Wu Clan?"

"Have their fleshly bodies already transcended their shackles and reached the level of Pangu's true form?!"

A powerful being's voice was hoarse, their Dao‑heart nearly unsteady.

The terror of the Slaughter‑Witch Sword was clearer to them than to anyone.

That was a curse aimed at the deepest level of the Wu Clan's bloodline, a fatal instrument on the plane of causality.

Not to mention resisting with flesh; even a trace of sword qi could cause the true spirit to rot and the Dao‑body to collapse.

But the scene before them completely overturned their cognition.

"Pangu's heart‑blood! It is the power of that drop of Pangu's heart‑blood!"

"The twelve Ancestral Witches share the same origin; now their vital energies are linked, the power of their heart‑blood fully unleashed, faintly possessing a fraction of the supreme might of Pangu the Great God when he cleaved heaven and earth!"

"As one wanes, the other waxes; the Slaughter‑Witch Sword's ferocity is being suppressed! Could… the Wu Clan truly be victorious?!"

Discussion surged like a wave, shock, disbelief, and incredulity brewing in every spectator's heart.

This battle, from the start, was filled with blood and fire, cruel to the extreme.

Who will laugh last, who will become the new ruler of this heaven and earth, seems about to be revealed.

However.

Just when all living beings believed the Wu Clan was about to overturn heaven and earth.

Between heaven and earth, a few low, extremely suppressed hums suddenly sounded.

That sound was faint, yet it pierced clearly through all the roaring and clamor, precisely striking the eardrums of every living being.

Without any omen.

No prelude of any energy fluctuation.

But everyone heard it distinctly.

That was the voice of the Wu Clan.

In that hum, there was no pain, no anger, only a kind of… bewilderment and astonishment at life being instantly drained.

Immediately after.

Under the gaze of the myriad primordial beings, shocked to the point of despair.

Four towering figures, massive enough to obscure the stars, stiffly and silently detached from the array of the twelve demon‑god divine forms.

Then, they fell.

Wind Ancestral Witch, Tianwu!

His eight-headed, human-faced, tiger-bodied ten-tailed dharma manifestation had its light fully withdrawn at this moment; the two eyes on each of the eight skulls still retained the frenzy and decisiveness from the clash with the Slayer Witch Sword.

Thunder Primeval Witch, Qiangliang!

He held a long serpent in his mouth and grasped a giant python in his hand; the hundreds of millions of surging thunderbolts covering his body were all extinguished at this moment, turning into silent electric light that wandered across his ruptured skin.

Weather Primeval Witch, Shebishi!

That terrifying figure with a human face and beast body, whose ears were pierced by snakes, had completely lost its divine aura; the power it represented—deadly poison and foul weather—was rapidly dissipating.

Electric Primeval Witch, Xizi!

With a human face and bird body, stepping on a green serpent, he was originally the embodiment of speed and lightning, but now he fell like a stubborn stone, rigidly plunging toward the boundless earth.

Four Primeval Witches.

Just like that, silently, they lost all movement and were cut off from all vitality.

Their fall stirred not a whisper of wind.

Their dharma manifestations emitted not a single mournful cry.

Time, at this moment, was stretched infinitely.

Finally.

Boom!!!

Boom—rumble!!!

Four consecutive deafening booms, so muffled they silenced all things, exploded almost simultaneously upon the earth.

That was not the sound of impact.

It was the collapse of four small worlds, the severing of four Great Daos!

The earth wailed violently, blasted open four bottomless, terrifying abysses.

At the edges of the abysses, spiderweb-like black chasms spread wildly, devouring light, devouring vitality, as if the earth had opened four gigantic eyes of death.

At this moment.

The Primeval Wasteland fell dead silent.

All discussion, all speculation, all astonishment were stuck in their throats.

This...

No...... impossible......

A recluse old monster, his voice trembling uncontrollably, almost fell from his own dojo.

Vitality...... none!

Tian Wu, Qiang Liang, She Bishi, Xi Zi——the true spirits of the four Ancestral Witches——were completely erased in an instant!

Fallen...... fallen!?

This heart‑rending cry, like a world‑creating thunderclap, utterly detonated the entire primordial heaven and earth.

It numbed the scalps of all beings, their souls on the verge of bursting!

What!?

Four Ancestral Witches, body and Dao destroyed!?

How is this possible!

Those are Ancestral Witches!

They are formed from Pangu's essence blood, are practitioners of the Great Dao of Strength, and are the supreme combat power beneath the saints.

A single punch can shatter galaxies, a kick can split the Netherworld.

Such a being, if even one falls, is enough to shake the foundations of the Wilderness and make heaven and earth grieve—a cataclysmic event.

What's more, it's four of them!

At the same time, in the same strange way, they were instantly erased!

No matter how beings cannot accept it, how they wildly deny it.

The four abysses before them, the four huge corpses beginning to emit endless killing aura and gradually revealing their true forms, all proclaimed this bloody reality.

Even through the shattered void, beings could still see clearly.

Tian Wu and the others glared, their heavens‑rending hatred and unwillingness almost turning substance, cursing this land.

At their last moment of life, they didn't even know why they died.

An indescribable icy chill rose from the soles of every being's feet straight to the crown of the head.

Immense fear turned into shadow, shrouding the entire Wilderness.

The heavens collapsed.

This time, it truly collapsed!

Four Ancestral Witches have fallen; the remaining eight—no, the remaining Di Jiang and Zhu Jiuyin—what madness will they fall into!?

That will be a rage that burns everything to ash!

As expected!

Just as beings' minds and spirits were nearly shattered, almost scared into Dao‑heart collapse by this horrifying change.

At the battlefield's center.

The eight remaining god‑apparitions stood stiffly suspended in midair.

Di Jiang and Zhu Jiuyin's gazes were locked dead‑eye on the icy corpses of their four brothers.

That gaze could freeze epochs and scorch the azure firmament.

"Four brothers, no……"

Di Jiang squeezed out a few broken syllables from his throat—that wasn't sound, but blood and fire spurting as his soul was torn apart.

His eye sockets had already split from the rushing essence blood, two trails of blood streaming down his face, hot and viscous.

His eyeballs themselves turned into two burning blood‑red suns, firmly lodged in his skull, reflecting only endless hatred and collapse.

Hatred!

Hatred pushed to the extreme, twisting time and space around him into mournful cries.

Not only Di Jiang.

Beneath Zhu Jiuyin's closed dragon eyes, a drop of blood‑tear carrying ages of time slid down silently, instantly evaporating, and with it the surrounding void rotted for an instant.

On Qiang Liang's tiger‑like body, lightning ran wild, each bolt carrying the stillness after destruction.

She Bishi's visage flickered between blue and white from the poison's backlash, the deathly aura around him uncontrolled, even his own vitality wearing away.

The remaining eight Ancestral Witches were no exception.

Their breath was like a candle in the wind, like a volcano about to erupt, wildly swinging between decay and violence.

Pangu's heart‑blood gave them the backbone to resist the Slayer Witch Sword, yet it also became a double‑edged blade.

That violent force scoured their meridians, granting a moment of divine might while tearing their wizard‑god bodies from within into a thousand holes.

Blood seeped from every pore, and upon contacting the Chaos void it condensed into icy beads that encircled them, forming a gruesome star map.

Yet the flesh's agony and the soul's rupture were now numb.

A deeper, more thorough pain, springing from the deepest bond of blood, was utterly crushing their hearts and minds.

From ancient times to now, the twelve Ancestral Witches share one life.

They are formed from Pangu's essence blood, the most intimate brothers under heaven and earth.

Advancing together, retreating together—a law engraved in the source of their lives.

Now, within a single day, four brothers have lost both form and spirit.

Gong Gong's raging waves, Zhu Rong's blazing flames, Tian Wu's gales, Xi Zi's lightning……those familiar Dao‑qi were utterly erased from the primordial heaven and earth.

Hearts torn apart.

Souls shattered.

Such pain left Di Jiang and the others with only a bloody void in their hearts, and from that void sprang a madness that would drag this heaven and earth into destruction together.

Di Jiang's gaze slowly turned.

Those two burning blood suns, crossing the shattered stellar river, crossing countless corpses, finally locked onto the figure at the other end.

Di Jun.

Taiyi.

Their condition likewise waned to the extreme.

Di Jun's River Chart and Luo Book starlight above his head dimmed; the myriad stars phantom that originally enveloped his whole body now only had a few scattered points, flickering uncertainly.

Taiyi's Chaos Bell, the supreme treasure that suppresses primordial chaos, now has cracks all over its body; its humming is no longer the overbearing suppressive sound, but instead emits a mournful wail of being unable to bear the burden.

Activating the Slay-Witch Sword, they slew four ancestral witches; this earth-shaking feat almost drained the entire demon race's Heavenly Court's fortune, and also exhausted seventy or eighty percent of their brothers' mana and origin.

Their qi and blood collapsed.

The radiance of the Golden Crow True Fire fell from brilliant gold to dim orange-red, as if it could be extinguished at any moment.

"Damn it!"

Dijiang's roar was no longer just a sound, but the roar of spatial law.

"Today, you demon race beasts, not a single one shall leave!"

This roar shook the starry universe violently, causing countless stars to deviate from their ten-million-year orbits under this divine might.

"Di Jun Taiyi!"

Dijiang uttered each word with a pause, every word carrying a curse of blood and tears.

"I demand that you repay with your lives for my four brothers!"

The moment his words fell, it was not the action of one person, but the simultaneous action of eight.

No communication.

No eye signals.

At the instant the words "repay with your lives" echoed through heaven and earth, the eight great ancestral witches, once again bearing hatred, struck out.

This time, there was no reservation whatsoever.

Not a trace of defense remained.

They turned their shattered witch-god bodies entirely into offerings to detonate the Great Dao's laws.

"Boom!"

Dijiang moved his form, and the surrounding space of ten thousand li instantly collapsed, folded, and turned into a visible black rift that slashed toward Di Jun Taiyi!

This is the extreme of spatial Dao: cutting, banishment, termination!

Zhu Jiuyin opened his eyes.

In those eyes, there were no pupils, only a ceaselessly flowing river of time.

The river water reversed flow, rushing to wash over the demon race's army; wherever it passed, stars rotted, immortals aged, and everything headed toward the end of time.

"Howl!"

Qiangliang raised his head and let out a long howl; upon his tiger-headed human form, myriad bolts of Purple Firmament Divine Lightning coalesced into a lightning spear that pierced heaven and earth, its tip pointing, causing all laws to yield!

Xuanming, She Bishi, Rushou, Goumang...

Eight figures, eight kinds of Great Dao laws representing the origin of heaven and earth, unfolded without reservation at this moment.

Space, time, lightning, bitter cold, deadly poison, Geng metal, Yi wood...

All manner of laws intertwined, the divine chains of order coiled.

They were no longer isolated divine abilities, but had converged into a torrent of destruction, mutually reflecting and amplifying; their brilliant light instantly tore apart the trembling, about-to-collapse primordial wilderness firmament, causing the chaotic qi above the nine heavens to pour backward!

Mad!

All the mighty beings who peered into this battlefield's situation had only this thought left in their minds.

Dijiang and they had gone completely mad.

This was a fighting style that completely abandoned vitality.

Their bodies cracked inch by inch in the torrent of laws, blood spilling like waterfalls, yet their eyes showed no wavering, only the resolve to burn everything to ashes.

No defense.

No regard for consequences.

They merely attacked relentlessly, attack after attack!

They staked everything they had—life, soul, and Dao fruition—just to exchange for the enemy's utter annihilation.

"Dijiang and the others, they are going to fight to the death."

In the depths of the Nine Underworld Sea of Blood, the Primordial Slayer and Avici Twin Swords before the Old Ancestor of the River of Darkness constantly trembled and hummed, seemingly resonating with that pure killing intent.

"Using the remaining origin of the eight ancestral witches as the price, to detonate the Great Dao... if Di Jun Taiyi does not die, he will at least be stripped of a layer of skin."

Mount Kunlun, Yuanshi's gaze pierced the endless void, landing upon that devastated battlefield, his expression solemn.

"Alas..."

Within the Palace of Nüwa, Nüwa let out a long sigh, that sigh filled with helplessness and pity.

"The battle has come to this; there is no retreat left, it's a fight to the death."

A reclusive mighty one sighed thus, his voice echoing between heaven and earth, causing countless beings to nod in agreement.

The world has long known the Great Calamity; heaven and earth are unkind, treating all things as straw dogs.

But to personally witness the two supreme clans of the primordial wilderness, heading toward mutual destruction in such a tragic manner, shattering heaven and earth and throwing the Great Dao into chaos.

Such madness, fighting until the last drop of blood is shed, burning the final wisp of soul.

Or perhaps it let all the watching sentient beings feel a shock and awe springing from the depths of their souls.

On the battlefield.

Killer qi pierced the firmament, tearing the heavens into countless black fissures.

Led by Dijiang, the ancestral witches had shattered bodies and flowing divine blood, yet they burned their final life essence, transforming into streaks of blood-colored light that pierced heaven and earth, charging forth in a death-defying assault.

That will of mutual destruction, violent, made the entire prehistoric battlefield tremble.

Even Di Jun and Taiyi, the two Demon Race sovereigns standing at the pinnacle of heaven and earth, had those twelve blood-shadows of total destruction reflected in their golden pupils, causing their souls a stabbing pain.

The imperial dragon aura coiling around their bodies actually emitted a lament unable to bear the burden under this resolute impact.

"Don't clash head-on!"

Taiyi's voice sounded, low and deep, yet containing an indisputable calm.

Each word seemed to be struck out with supreme power from the Chaos Bell, shaking within Di Jun's mind and spirit.

"The Wu Clan is already out of oil and wick; this is merely their final madness."

"We only need to temporarily avoid their edge, drag it out, and they will surely die!"

His gaze was sharp, instantly penetrating the essence of the battle.

In this battle, the price paid by the Demon Race was equally appalling; the Zhou Tian Star-Dou Great Formation was near collapse, and hundreds of millions of demon gods fell like rain.

But the Demon Race's goal has never been to be buried alongside the Wu Clan.

What they want is to rule the three realms and hold supreme authority over heaven and earth.

To that end, the last primordial qi must be retained.

Taiyi has long shaken the prehistoric lands with his reputation as a war maniac; under his Chaos Bell, who knows how many strong foes have been suppressed.

Today, even he has arisen a desire to retreat, showing just how terrifying the oppressive feeling brought by Di Jiang and others' all-consuming posture is.

That is not battle, that is sacrifice.

Using everything of oneself as an offering, merely to drag the enemy together into eternal extinction.

The violent killing intent in Di Jun's eyes gradually receded, replaced by a deep chill.

He nodded.

Taiyi is right.

Having thought this, his gaze turned and fell upon Kunpeng not far away, whose breath was still relatively steady.

"Demon Master!"

Di Jun's voice sounded solemnly, carrying an irresistible sovereign command.

"Take out your Demon Master Palace to block them for us a moment!"

"Just wait for us to catch our breath and recover, and that will be the death of this Wu barbarian group!"

His decision was swift to the extreme.

Kunpeng's Demon Master Palace is an innate spiritual treasure of supreme quality formed from the boundless icy slaughter of the Northern Abyss and the Demon Race's fortune; its defensive power is so strong that throughout the prehistoric lands it could rank among the foremost.

Using it to resist the Ancestral Wu's final madness is undoubtedly the best choice.

As long as we strive for that brief moment of respite, the balance of victory will completely tilt toward the Demon Race.

However.

Di Jun's command still echoed in the void, yet Kunpeng did not, as usual, immediately obey.

He stood there, motionless.

On his usual sinister face, his expression shifted violently, alternating between pale and bluish, as if countless thoughts were fiercely colliding and slaughtering in the sea of his mind.

What to do?!

Really, must we pour out our last drop of blood for the Demon Race?

Kunpeng's peripheral vision swept across the battlefield.

Di Jun and Taiyi are already at the end of their strength, their divine power greatly depleted.

Di Jiang and Zhurong appear miserable, yet the qi and blood surging within those twelve figures remain as vast as a boiling Sea of Blood, bottomless.

He sees this more clearly than Di Jun and Taiyi.

If the death struggle continues, the Demon Race's outcome is likely not a tragic victory.

But rather… annihilation!

Kunpeng's heart, the Dao-heart condensed from a hundred million years of profound ice, twitched violently at this moment.

Kunpeng did not join the Demon Court out of loyalty.

What he sought was that towering Demon Race fortune, and the cultivation resources that could help him glimpse a higher realm.

He and Di Jun and Taiyi have always been merely a transaction.

Now, the great ship named the Demon Court is about to capsize.

Must this passenger of mine also sink to the seabed together with the captain?

Ridiculous!

From beginning to end, he has retained a considerable portion of his strength, fishing in troubled waters, precisely to cope with this worst situation at hand.

The so-called dying for the Demon Race…

is an even bigger joke!

In this heaven and earth, anyone could fall, but only Kunpeng must survive!

Survive to the end!

A moment's deliberation already constitutes a decision of a hundred million years.

Kunpeng's flickering gaze suddenly turned into a bone-chilling cold and resolve.

The Demon Race fortune he has seized is already more than enough.

After this battle, even if the Demon Race luckily avoids extinction, its primordial qi will be gravely wounded, losing all former glory; to him, it has already lost its utilitarian value.

If so…

Rather than accompany them in burial, it would be better to… take the final remuneration!

A chillingly severe arc slowly curled at the corner of his mouth.

This seat, having received the Demon Court's fortune's blessing, only now has today.

His voice suddenly rang out, hoarse and eerie, clearly reaching the ears of every being present.

"Today's blood battle has come to this; it can be considered the utmost benevolence and righteousness."

"Hehe..."

A light laugh, filled with endless mockery and coldness.

"As for how this final ending will be, this seat... will not accompany you any longer!"

At the instant the words fell!

Di Jun and Taiyi's bodies suddenly stiffened, their golden pupils contracting to the extreme in an instant!

In their minds a boom sounded, an icy chill of being stabbed in the heart by the most trusted person surged wildly from the depths of their souls.

Betrayal!

Kunpeng, you intend to betray the Demon Race!

However, this thought had just arisen, not yet having time to turn into a roar—

Kunpeng moved!

His words had not even fully dissipated when his form already turned into a fleeting shadow impossible to catch with the eye.

A gaunt hand containing endless devouring power ignored spatial distance, ignored the divine light protecting Di Jun before him!

Probe! Grab!

The target was precisely above Di Jun's head, the Hetu Luoshu whose light had dimmed slightly due to its master's turmoil!

Those two supreme spirit treasures that suppressed the Demon Race's fortune were seized by that great hand, their light instantly extinguished, and a mighty force forcibly severed their soul link with Di Jun!

"You dare!"

Di Jun's eyes nearly split, and he let out a roar that shook the universe.

But everything was already too late.

Kunpeng's strike succeeded, without the slightest greed or hesitation.

He rolled the Hetu Luoshu into his sleeve.

In the next instant, his form suddenly turned illusory, as if about to merge into nothingness.

That was Kunpeng's innate divine ability, the supreme speed that surpasses the wilderness!

His body transformed into a Peng, soaring upward with a single flap covering ninety thousand miles, tearing apart heaven and earth, fleeing into the endless void, vanishing without trace.

Time, as if at this moment having its meaning drained away.

Just a moment ago, it was still a clash of earth-shaking laws, the roar of hundreds of millions of demon gods fighting for their lives.

The next moment, only a streak of fleeing light remained on the horizon, rapidly dimming.

Kunpeng left.

He took away Di Jun's natal supreme treasure, the Hetu Luoshu.

That stream of light was the final radiance of the Hetu Luoshu.

It proclaimed a fact.

The Demon Master has betrayed.

Dead silence.

A dead silence more thorough than the end of the universe enveloped the entire Thirty-Three Heavens.

The wind stopped.

The blood ceased.

Even the Wu and Demon armies, their eyes bloodshot from slaughter, came to a halt.

Countless demon soldiers still held the posture of swinging blades to slash, but the ferocity on their faces froze into a blank stare.

Their divine senses frantically swept, trying to catch that familiar aura, but only gained a stretch of icy void.

The direction of the Demon Master's Palace was empty.

The figure that ought to have commanded the center, deployed millions of demon troops, and deduced the vitality of the Zhou Tian Xing Dou Great Array, vanished without trace.

How could this happen?

Why?

Countless demon gods' minds went blank, their Dao hearts humming, nearly shattering on the spot.

Even such slaughter-laden ancestral witches as Di Jiang and Zhu Jiuyin saw their earth-shaking witch-god true forms momentarily stagnate.

Space paused around them.

Time slowed in their pupils.

They likewise did not anticipate this scene.

But that stagnation lasted less than a breath.

Immediately, an extreme, undisguised ecstasy exploded on the faces of the Eight Ancestral Witches.

On Di Jiang's face, covered in spatial dao patterns, muscles twisted into a ferocious, gleeful grin.

"Ha ha..."

The laughter was not loud, yet heavy as billions of divine mountains crashing down, shaking countless demon gods' qi and blood to surge, blood pouring from their mouths and noses.

"Ha ha ha ha ha ha!"

The laughter suddenly rose, transforming into a thunderbolt that pierced the heavens, tearing apart this void of dead silence.

"Di Jun! Taiyi!"

Di Jiang extended a finger great enough to prop up the heavens, pointing far away at the two figures blazing with golden flames, the supreme beings.

"Open your dog eyes and look!"

Is this the demon court you have painstakingly built, boasting it could share longevity with heaven and earth?

His voice was filled with endless delight and contempt.

A plate of loose sand!

A joke!

Even your most trusted demon master, whom you entrusted with great responsibility and shared fortune, abandons you at this life-and-death juncture!

He not only fled himself, but also took away your supreme treasure that suppresses the Demon Race's fortune!

Now, what do you have left to fight against my Wu Clan?!

Are you relying on your laughable imperial dignity?!

Mockery!

Each word turned into the most vicious blade, precisely gouging into the hearts of Di Jun and Taiyi.

Each word became the loudest slap, fiercely striking the faces of the entire Demon Race.

Di Jun's surrounding blazing sun true fire suddenly stalled, then surged violently, and the golden flame's edge actually showed a hint of eerie dark red.

That is the emperor's blood boiling, the sovereign's rage burning!

Taiyi's Chaos Bell in his hand emitted an extremely suppressed hum; upon its surface, the sun, moon, stars, and earth, water, fire, wind scenes wildly circulated, nearly losing control.

Detestable!

Detestable!!

Di Jun's fists clenched tightly, nails digging into his palms, and the golden blood that flowed was instantly evaporated by the true fire.

He never expected this.

Kunpeng!

The usually cautious, even somewhat timid Lord of the Northern Darkness actually hid so deeply!

His scheming, endurance, and decisiveness far exceeded his expectations.

Betrayal!

This is not merely betrayal!

This is a stab from within at the Demon Race's most perilous moment, the deadliest blow!

The loss of the River Chart and Luo Book is not only a weakening of strength, but also a heavy blow to the entire Demon Race's fortune.

It is the symbol of the Demon Race's order, the core of the Zhou Tian Star-Dou Grand Formation.

Losing it, the formation bears an irremediable flaw.

Losing it, the Demon Race's future is shrouded in an inescapable shadow.

Indeed!

Di Jun's gaze swept over the entire battlefield.

The remaining, blood-soaked Demon Army's last trace of color on their faces is rapidly fading.

In its place is a despair that seeps into the marrow.

Even the demon masters have fled.

Even the River Chart and Luo Book have been taken away.

What hope do they have left?

Heavens, will you let the Demon Race perish?

The Ten Great Demon Saints—Bai Ze, Ji Meng, Ying Zhao… these loyal warriors who have followed Di Jun since antiquity are now all silent.

Their complexions are worse than dead ash.

There is anger, reluctance, humiliation, but above all a helpless sorrow.

However, on the battlefield, the enemy will give you no time for grief.

Di Jiang's mockery merely sounded the prelude to the final slaughter.

Kill!

At the command, the Eight Great Ancestral Witches held nothing back.

Di Jiang's true form stepped forward, and billions of miles of void instantly solidified into an absolute prison, sealing all remaining Demon Race leaders inside.

Space law turned into invisible walls, impregnable.

Chu Jiuyin's eyes opened and closed, and the illusory river of time surged forth, enveloping the entire battlefield.

Under the river's scouring, the demon saints' protective divine light rapidly aged, decayed, and disintegrated.

Water God Gonggong and Fire God Zhurong roared simultaneously.

One drew the heavenly river's water to flow backward—not ordinary water, but the Nine Heavens' Weak Water capable of dissolving primordial spirits and extinguishing true fire.

The other provoked the world-ending flame to burn the heavens—not ordinary fire, but the primordial divine flame from the dawn of heaven and earth, capable of incinerating all things.

Water and fire intertwined, not canceling each other, but under a higher law formed the most terrifying grinding wheel of destruction.

At this moment, the divine radiance bursting from the Eight Great Ancestral Witches suppressed even Di Jun and Taiyi's sun true fire.

That radiance is the manifestation of law, the revelation of the Great Dao, the extreme of pure power.

All manner of law and order, like a tsunami sweeping heaven and earth, carried a terrifying pressure that would make even Golden Immortals tremble, crashing down upon the Demon Court's crowd.

Only an instant.

The Ten Great Demon Saints, these mighty beings who roamed the primordial wilds with fearsome renown, simultaneously let out screams of terror so sharp they changed pitch.

Ah… no!

Ji Meng roared, manifesting his true form of a dragon-headed human, waving his divine weapon to resist, but that weapon shattered inch by inch before the law's surge, turning to powder.

My primordial spirit!

Ying Zhao let out a mournful wail as he saw his flesh annihilated in water and fire; even more horrifying, his indestructible primordial spirit was being torn and worn away by an invisible force.

Your Majesty! Save me……

Bai Ze turned its head with difficulty, looking toward Di Jun's direction, its eyes full of plea and despair.

However, it was all in vain.

All the tragic cries.

All the pleas for help.

Before absolute power, they all appeared so pale and powerless.

The laws swept over.

Pfft! Pfft! Pfft!

The physical bodies of the Ten Great Demon Saints, without distinction, exploded simultaneously.

That vajra-like demon god's body, fragile as pottery, burst into a rain of blood across the sky.

Each drop of blood contained terrifying energy, yet the moment it fell, it was completely vaporized by the subsequent force of law.

Their primordial spirits had no chance to escape.

The moment they left their bodies, they were firmly locked in place by the space sealed by Di Jiang and the time delayed by Zhu Jiuyin.

Immediately after, water, fire, wind, thunder… all kinds of destructive laws surged forward together.

Like lambs surrounded by countless hungry wolves.

Those primordial spirits that once shone through the ages were directly torn apart, crushed, and worn away.

Finally, they turned into the most primal points of light, completely dissipating into nothingness.

The Ten Great Demon Saints.

The pillars that uphold the Demon Court's heavens.

Thus, they perished in body and Dao.

Both form and spirit destroyed.

They no longer exist in the world.

This sight caused the Demon Race's heavenly emperor, who stands above the nine heavens, to have his expression completely twisted.

In Di Jun's eye sockets, golden divine flames surged violently, almost burning through the void.

On the back of Taiyi's hand gripping the Chaos Bell, veins bulged, and his joints turned a deathly pallor from excessive force.

They are dead.

The Ten Great Demon Saints, the jade pillars upholding the Demon Race's Heavenly Court, were slaughtered one by one before their eyes by that band of madmen, their bodies and spirits annihilated.

But they didn't even have time to feel heartbroken, or to vent the anger that could burn the eight wastes.

Because the shadow of death had already swept over them.

Di Jiang!

The leading ancestor witch, his face unchanged for myriad ages, now held only one emotion—destruction.

After slaughtering the demon saints, his blood-stained body paused not a whit; his steps shattered the void, carrying the last burning life-light of his eleven brothers behind him, and once more he ferociously charged toward the demon race's final barrier—Di Jun, Taiyi, and Fuxi!

"Beasts of the Demon Race!"

Zhurong's voice echoed through heaven and earth; it was no longer a roar, but a lament born of burning souls, each word carrying the searing pain of blood and fire.

"Today, even if we few die, we will drag you all down as a cushion, to be buried with my Wu Clan!"

"Ha……"

"Hahahahaha!"

Zhurong's mad laughter tore and twisted, not a sound any living being could make; its undertone of resolve and madness sent a chill from the depths of the soul through the myriad heavenly powers watching from billions of miles away.

Scalp went numb.

This is no joke.

Nor is it a harsh threat.

Everyone could see clearly that the bodies of the twelve ancestor witches were already covered in fine cracks; these were not wounds, but the power they bore had far exceeded the limits of their flesh.

Their life essence was draining at an unprecedented speed, transforming into the earth-shaking battle power of this moment.

They were burning themselves.

Using their bodies as kindling and souls as fuel, they ignited the Wu Clan's final, and most brilliant, handful of flame.

Life for life!

This was their only remaining choice, and also the pride etched into the Wu Clan's bones.

Before his words even finished!

Zhurong's figure suddenly vanished.

No, not vanished.

It was his speed, once again surpassing the limit that divine sense could capture!

With a single step, he crossed a distance of hundreds of thousands of miles; the space beneath his feet was as fragile as a thin sheet of paper.

When he reappeared, he was already before Di Jun.

His arms, coiled with supreme power, as if able to rend the stars, suddenly flung open at this moment.

It was an embrace.

An embrace of death.

The next instant, Di Jun felt the spacetime around him stagnate; an irresistible, unbreakable great force seized him, locking him fast in Zhurong's arms.

It was not mana, nor divine ability.

It was an ancestor witch condensing his entire life, will, and power into a single point—a pure 'force'!

"You dare!"

Di Jun's eyes were about to split, the Heavenly Emperor's dignity vanished in this instant, leaving only a wild beast seized by despair and madness.

What the hell is he doing?!

All beings who witnessed this scene felt the same absurd and terrifying thought arise in their hearts.

Zhurong answered them with his action.

He hesitated not at all, his arm muscles bulging as he tightened his grip on Di Jun's body, the sound of shattering bones clearly audible.

Then he turned his back on all beings and faced the jade pillar that upheld heaven and earth.

Mount Buzhou!

He wrapped Di Jun in his arms, not in self-destruction, but in a posture of mutual annihilation, transforming into a bloody streak of light that slammed violently into that divine mountain!

"Hiss..."

The myriad spirits of the Wilderness, countless mighty beings, at this moment had their minds go completely blank.

A Daluo Golden Immortal fumbled and knocked over the jade nectar before him, a Demon God fell shocked to the ground, and many more simply gaped, unable to make a sound.

Understood.

Everyone understood Zhurong's intention.

He intended to use his ancestral witch's fleshly form, combined with the Heavenly Emperor's body of the Demon Race, these two supreme physiques of the Wilderness, to shake the root of heaven and earth that not even a saint could damage in the slightest.

He meant to suppress and slay Di Jun with his own life.

He meant to lever the foundations of the entire world with his own death.

The Wu Clan's bloodlust can be this fierce!

And this was only the beginning.

At the moment Zhurong rammed into Mount Buzhou, the remaining ancestral witches stirred.

They employed the same method, choosing the same target.

"Taiyi!"

Di Jiang's howl shook, causing myriad wails of sorrow.

He did not charge at anyone else, his aim clear, pointing directly at the one who held the primordial supreme treasure, invulnerable to all laws—the Eastern Emperor Taiyi.

Upon his head, the Chaos Bell burst forth with unprecedented light, its toll lingering, suppressing fire, water, wind, and earth, fixing the surrounding spacetime.

Yet in Di Jiang's eyes there was only a dead, indifferent void.

He didn't even attempt to clash head-on with the Chaos Bell's defense.

In the blink of a thought.

The vast space centered on him and Taiyi suddenly collapsed inward, compressing!

Space, under his control, became the most terrifying weapon.

The Chaos Bell's protective divine light, under this extreme compression, emitted a strained, overloaded distortion, its brilliance rapidly fading.

Then Di Jiang's body, bearing an unstoppable resolve to die, slammed into it with fierce force.

Numb.

My mind went completely numb.

All beings watching this scene could no longer think.

Should we marvel at the Wu Clan's ferocity, or curse their madness?

Yet all thoughts were wiped clean in the next instant by a roar capable of tearing apart the entire Wilderness.

Boom!

That was not sound.

It was a destructive heavenly sound that detonated deep within the primordial spirit of every living being.

In that terrifying collision, the bodies of Zhurong and Di Jun showed no hesitation.

Whether the ancestral witch's true form or the Heavenly Emperor's divine body, under that ultimate force they instantly shattered, turning into a rain of blood and specks of golden light across the sky.

The two supreme beings who stood at the pinnacle of the Wilderness thus perished, both body and spirit destroyed.

But something even more terrifying occurred.

As that heavenly sound reverberated.

Everyone's gaze was fixed tightly upon Mount Buzhou.

Only to see that towering mountain, billions of feet high, which upheld heaven and earth, a massive crack suddenly spread outward from the point of impact!

The fissure began as thin as a hair, but in an instant it turned into a ferocious scar that pierced straight through the mountain!

Crack—crack-crack—

That was the spine of heaven and earth wailing, the death knell of the Wilderness world's foundations shattering!

The heavenly pillar.... is about to break!