Chapter 997

"Foolish, and boring." Behind Sheng Rong, countless rays of light intertwined and coiled, forming a throne of light.

He sat on the throne, holding a scepter that radiated divine light, left hand supporting his chin, rolling his eyes as he watched Wu Teng walk step by step toward Wu Tou.

It's truly boring, and foolish.

The so-called honorable death battle of the Barbarian God Clan, in the eyes of Sheng Rong and a group of relatively sensible gods among the gods, looked exactly like a crude, violent primitive struggle between two low-ranking primates fighting over a female.

Utterly boring.

But you still cannot destroy this boring death battle.

Anyone who dares to interfere and destroy this so-called fair and sacred honorable death battle of the Barbarian God Clan becomes the mortal enemy of all Barbarian God Clan members; they will spare no expense to kill you, even sending a God Emperor–level powerhouse to personally hunt you down.

Imagine in the world of gods, those with dharma forms millions of li tall can play with stars as marbles; a lone individual can slaughter an entire god nation's terrifying existence. Sheng Rong, and the group of his clansmen beside him, simultaneously felt a chill.

"Let them go!" Sheng Rong waved his hand, saying lazily, "Surround all sides; even if Wu Tou wins, do not let him escape."

Only the six ten-thousand spirits of the Ice Spirit God Clan and the Dark Soul God Clan, plus tens of thousands from the various other big and small god clans, obeyed Sheng Rong's order and moved toward Wu Tou's flanks and rear.

Ten thousand of the Barbarian God Clan, thirty thousand of the Lava Giant Clan, and thirty thousand of the Celestial Crystal Clan rose into the air, like spectators seated in a grand theater waiting to enjoy a song and dance show, scattered in the void, shouting loudly.

Even someone… Sheng Rong rolled his eyes again.

Even some rough men of the Barbarian God Tribe had somehow obtained large amounts of roasted meat and strong liquor, roaring as they gnawed meat and gulped down the liquor in big mouthfuls.

The actions of the Barbarian God Tribe immediately prompted imitation by the Lava Giant God and the Crystal God Clan.

They also brought out strong liquor and their own special foods; the Lava Giant God kept stuffing refined pure metal nuggets into its mouth, while the Crystal God Clan chewed various crystal chunks, producing a constant 'Crack!' crisp sound.

They also gulped down liquor in big mouthfuls, their voices deep and resonant, waving their thick arms, loudly cheering for Wu Teng.

Among the Barbarian God Tribe, some who were at odds with Wu Teng drank two gulps, got excited, and simply swung fists the size of wine jars, shouting hoarsely: "Wu Tou, smash Wu Teng's skull... hahaha, he just hooked up with an Ice Spirit Clan girl, so tender like a water spirit!"

Sheng Rong quickly glared at those shouting Barbarian God Tribe members.

What kind of rough lot are you all? Wu Tou is now your wanted target, your enemy, yet you're actually cheering for your enemy—do you lot have even a scrap of usable brains in your heads?

Wu Teng also heard the roars coming from his own clansmen.

His face darkened somewhat; he strode toward Wu Tou, taking off his armor as he went, and ended up just like Wu Tou—only a beast skin wrapped around his waist, bare-handed, arriving before Wu Tou.

"Wu Tou, you proposed this honorable duel; I will defeat you before all our people!" Wu Teng said in a deep voice: "I've disliked you for many years… but before, I had no excuse to challenge you."

"But this time, you have made a great mistake." Wu Teng said, chest out, head high: "Originally, I should have been the one to challenge you; I never expected you to dare show up, and even dare to provoke."

Wu Tou shook his head and said solemnly: "Cut the talk; the great gods are watching us, and we must follow the most ancient tradition."

Wu Teng nodded.

Wu Tou nodded.

Then, the two, separated by about a hundred zhang, suddenly flung their arms wide, simultaneously lifted their right legs, and stamped heavily on the ground, both letting out a great 'Ha!' shout.

"War dance!" the five thousand Barbarian Gods behind Wu Tou roared in unison, also spreading their arms, mimicking Wu Tou's motion exactly—lifting their right legs and stomping hard on the ground.

"Ha, ha, shout!" Wu Tou waved his arms, continuously lifting his legs and stomping, his hands rhythmically striking his chest, while his facial muscles twisted into extremely intimidating fierce expressions—flaring nostrils, glaring eyes, sticking out his tongue—as he roared loudly at Wu Teng.

This is the Barbarian God Tribe's extremely ancient war-dance ritual, performed before war, during sacrifices, when honoring ancestors, and before honorable duels, to display their strength, show off their fit physiques, and demonstrate their power.

The five thousand Barbarian Gods behind Wu Tou responded in unison, launching the war dance, which signified that these five thousand were Wu Tou's die‑hard loyalists.

Wu Teng turned and roared at the clansmen holding roasted meat and wine jars, who were stuffing themselves.

Just under two thousand Barbarian Gods dropped their meat and liquor, shouting loudly, rhythmically tensing their muscles, striding forward, waving both arms, lifting both legs and stomping hard on the ground, while making various grimaces, showing off their might to the five thousand kinsmen behind Wu Tou.

Sheng Rong crossed his legs, leaned back on his throne, and looked up at the sky.

In the bluish‑green sky, white clouds drifted swiftly by.

Sheng Rong muttered lowly: "I'd rather watch a bunch of monkeys fight than see this damned lot embarrass themselves with this awkward war dance… it's just too embarrassing… ah, I wish those holy maidens of the human race from my palace were here now—their dance is truly graceful, truly enjoyable."

Turning his head, Sheng Rong asked the similarly embarrassed and bored clansman standing beside him: "How long will their war dance last?"

The Light God Clan member laughed embarrassedly: "Just watch their mood and stamina? It's said that in history, after the Barbarian God Tribe wiped out an age‑old enemy god clan, they had billions of warriors who danced the war dance nonstop for three months to worship the gods of war, violence, and so on…"

"Three months!" Sheng Rong slapped his forehead, shook his head, and muttered: "I'll take a nap; I'll wake you when their duel has a result…"

"Fortunately, we have three standard orbital periods to linger on Mu Dalu… otherwise…" Sheng Rong gave a wry smile: "Just treat it as boredom, watching monkeys dance to kill time."

The Light God Clan member lowered his voice: "But, Your Highness, those offerings…"

Sheng Rong shook his head: "As long as we can capture Wu Tou, why worry that the offerings might vanish? Grab Wu Tou, and you've grabbed everything. Heh, I can't fathom why Wu Tou would walk into the net himself."

Sheng Rong gave a cold, thin‑lipped smile, pointing to his own temple: "If it were a Wisdom God Clan member walking into the net, I'd immediately take you to a completely safe spot to observe the situation… but since it's this bunch of muscle‑bound Barbarian Gods…"

Sheng Rong spread his hands, closed his eyes, and began to drift into sleep: "I don't need to be overly cautious. What scheme could they have? At most, he's ambushed a rebel troop nearby? What good would that do? It poses no threat to us at all."

Several Light God Clan members nodded in agreement.

Exactly, the Barbarian God Tribe isn't the Wisdom God Tribe, so there's no need to worry excessively.

That Wu Tou fellow must have come looking for a fair duel, right? He's already trapped in the gods' encirclement; he simply can't escape.

Wu Tie sat cross‑legged in the void, over a thousand li away from Sheng Rong and his companions.

Layers upon layers of spatial barriers concealed Wu Tie's form and aura; with Wu Tie's current venerable-level cultivation, he far surpassed these descending gods in realm, and not a single descending god could detect Wu Tie's whereabouts.

The Grand Dao Furnace hovered before Wu Tie, and after devouring Gongsun San Yang's true spark of flint fire, the flint fire within the Grand Dao Furnace had evolved by a great leap, almost possessing the full might of the primordial flint fire first condensed between heaven and earth by the ancient human sovereign, the Flint Fire Clan.

Deep crimson, the flint fire verging on purple burned quietly within the Grand Dao Furnace.

Wu Tie formed seals with both hands; in the snap of a finger, tens of thousands of seal arts emerged, each seal art transforming into visions of wandering dragons, true phoenixes, and various illusions, continually pouring into the flint fire.

The flint fire's power had increased greatly; Wu Tie needed to re-refine it once more in order to better control the flint fire and manipulate it with finer precision.

The Yin-Yang Daoist, the Vast Sea Daoist, the Five Elements Daoist, together with their Six Paths avatars, carried a large number of formation disks and foundations, busily moving within a radius of ten thousand li. They, too, were venerable-level cultivators; after employing invisibility techniques, the descending gods could not detect their slight movements.

What's more, the gods' attention had already been drawn to Wu Tou.

Who could have imagined that humans would have set up a great formation in the outskirts?

Sheng Rong could believe that Wu Tou, for profit, chose to oppose all the gods observing the frontier outpost.

Such a thing is completely understandable to the gods.

For profit, the dramas of major god clans—fathers and sons turning against each other, divine sons slaying their fathers, fathers and sons killing each other, brothers becoming enemies—have been enacted countless times.

Therefore, Wu Tou could very well have, in a moment of profit-clouded judgment, committed the grave impropriety of intercepting the sacrificial offering.

But no one believed that Wutou would cooperate with the human race to scheme against those lofty divine spirits.

Divine spirits, they are divine spirits.

Humans, what a lowly existence they are! They are livestock raised by the myriad gods on Mu Dalu, forever without a chance to rise.

How could divine spirits possibly cooperate with the human race?

Thus, Sheng Rong could so easily doze off, while the other divine spirits could so leisurely enjoy watching the duel between Wutou and Wujiang.

Thousands of barbarian gods roared loudly, splitting into two camps, provoking, insulting, and howling at each other with their wild war dances.

Their chests collided, emitting a dull thunderous roar, and the fists they swung, intentionally or not, during their war dance would heavily strike the opponent's cheeks.

No one defended, no one dodged; watching the opponent's heavy fist come down, they would instead actively meet it with their own faces.

Soon someone was beaten to a black-and-blue nose and swollen face, someone else had their nasal bone and brow bone broken.

These barbarian gods, each thick-skinned and sturdy-boned, when their bones shattered, the sound was like a mountain collapsing, deafeningly loud.

Soon someone's face was covered in blood, blood streaming down their neck, and quickly their upper bodies were drenched in blood.

But whether they were supporters of Wutou or Wujiang, they had all fallen into some inexplicable frenzy. As the heavy fists and faces slammed together, they laughed loudly, shouted loudly, and roared the unique war cry of the barbarian gods.

"Hoo-hoo-hoo!" Wutou suddenly let out three urgent roars.

The seven thousand barbarian gods engaged in the war dance leapt backward in unison, quickly forming a circle with a diameter of a hundred li on the plain.

"Hoo-hoo-hoo!" Wujiang let out the same roar.

The two stopped their war dance, locked eyes for a moment, then each picked up a weapon from the ground and fiercely slashed across their own chests.

They each carved three deep blood marks on their chests. Wutou gripped his great axe and roared: "I will chop off your head, turn it into a wine vessel, and send it back to your father and mother… Your mother will watch your skull weep day and night, and your father, along with your clan, will be unable to lift their heads before the tribe because of your shame."

Wujiang tightly gripped the Two-Handed Heavy Sword and bellowed: "The same words go to you as well… I will cut off your head and send it to your fiancée. She will become my spoil of war, and Wutou, you and your clan will be mocked and cursed by your tribesmen for your incompetence."

They roared, then each took a large step forward at the same time.

The heavy sword and the great axe collided heavily.

With a tremendous boom, Wutou stumbled back several steps, while Wujiang's face darkened and he staggered back over a hundred paces.

Wutou raised his head and let out a long howl, and his five thousand subordinates simultaneously burst into a violent cheer.

Wujiang panted, and the over a thousand barbarian gods who supported him were all struck with panic, whispering anxiously, at a loss.

Suddenly, a barbarian god who had chosen to support Wujiang brandished his fists and roared loudly: "Wujiang, you worthless fool, don't drag us into shame with you… Kill Wutou, or if you lose, we'll chop your corpse into pieces and feed it to the dogs!"

Frenzied, bloody, violent, cold-hearted… this is the barbarian god tribe.

"Ha, haha, hahaha! Incompetent trash!" Wutou threw his head back and let out a wild howl, then he scooped up a handful of blood from his chest and fiercely slashed three blood marks across his own face.

In the next instant, Wutou turned into dozens of afterimages, whipping up streaks of black-red fire and lightning, howling as he rushed toward Wujiang.

Wujiang also roared, and a black storm rose around him, within which countless skeletal silhouettes flickered in and out of view as he fearlessly charged head-on toward Wutou.

The heavy sword and great axe clashed violently, in the blink of an eye amounting to tens of thousands of frenzied blows.

Sparks flew everywhere, the dull impact shaking the earth to tremble; the frenzied slaughter of the two barbarian gods kicked up a gale that utterly devastated this fertile plain, the ground torn up layer by layer, the rich soil gone, revealing the thick, solid bedrock beneath.

Sheng Rong sat upon his throne and slowly opened his eyes.

"The barbarian gods' fighting is truly crude, not elegant at all… Are they just smithing? I can't even sleep." Sheng Rong sighed, lightly shaking his head: "How long will it take them to decide a winner? Actually, it's also quite enjoyable to see a barbarian god beheaded."

Sheng Rong glanced around, and suddenly his pupils constricted slightly.

He saw that, in the void a thousand li away from the allied gods' forces, everywhere there were wisps of reddish-purple flames rising into the air.

In the span of a single breath, these flames coalesced into a fire dome three thousand li in diameter, precisely trapping the allied gods within.

"What the hell is this?" Sheng Rong leapt to his feet: "Wutou, Wujiang, stop…… Damn it, we've been ambushed."