Chapter 542: Chapter Two Hundred and One: Zhaoguang

Lu Rong spat out a mouthful of blood and was violently flung backward, as if he had taken a dozen heavy blows in an instant.

Though he barely managed to shift his footing, his left arm was a bloody mess, flesh torn away to reveal bone.

Yet once Lu Rong forcibly halted his momentum and activated the “Heavenly Capital Sealing Technique,” his wounds began healing at a visibly rapid pace.

Soon after, he stepped forward as if untouched, and three magic treasures—golden wheel, bronze bell, and dark lantern—floated one after another behind his head; he formed hand seals and clashed once more with Chen Hang.

“The Heavenly Capital Sealing Technique… the supreme divine art created by that Xuanhu Immortal truly does possess the power to capture and subdue the essence of the Capital of Heaven.”

“Even when wielded by a Jin Dan cultivator, its might is astonishing—truly, hearing of it is not the same as seeing it.”

Yin Wujie, while fending off the approaching blood spirits, also witnessed Lu Rong’s wounds sealing in moments, and could not help but praise aloud.

After a brief pause, he stepped into an odd position, summoned his spiritual focus, and silently chanted a spell.

Once his power was fully gathered, he flung his hand outward and shouted, “Go!”

Lu Rong had seen every move Yin Wujie made, but though he wished to interrupt, Chen Hang blocked him—he had no chance to spare attention.

At that moment, as Yin Wujie flung his hand, a dense cloud of black smoke erupted, striking straight for Lu Rong’s face!

After long preparation, this divine art unleashed a might like ten thousand cavalry charging, a thousand armies surging forward.

The blood spirits along its path made no sound—they shattered like bubbles, unable to impede it in the slightest!

Lu Rong recognized it as the “Ten Thousand Evils Plague Smoke” of the Pestilence Sect, a technique specifically designed to hinder flesh regeneration—clearly meant to counter his “Heavenly Capital Sealing Technique” and restrain him.

But with Chen Hang before him, Lu Rong chose not to break through the technique directly, fearing an opening might be found; instead, he transformed into a streak of crimson light and vanished in an instant.

Crash!

Before the crimson glow had fled twenty zhang, a blade of light suddenly slashed out to block it.

Simultaneously, cold, lethal sword intent had already filled every direction, transforming the space into an unbreakable prison!

“Damn!”

Seeing this, many Blood River disciples instinctively cried out in alarm, helplessly watching the “Ten Thousand Evils Plague Smoke” strike Lu Rong’s body.

In the next instant, as countless crimson lights writhed, a pale, jade-like human skin peeled off and fell from the clouds.

Lu Rong’s true body surged forward, smashing through the sword net and leaping into the azure sky.

Yet after barely dodging this killing blow, Lu Rong did not retreat—he forced more magic power from his Golden Core once more.

He let out a low roar, and thick, turbid smoke surged around him; his immense power shook the entire cloud layer, making it tremble and sway precariously!

And as Lu Rong rallied his spirit, he clashed again with Chen Hang and Yin Wujie.

He shattered sword nets one moment, shattered dark winds the next—his ferocity was overwhelming; though outnumbered two-to-one, he still held his ground.

Many cultivators watching outside were sweating in their palms, stunned into silence.

“This youth…”

At that moment, Lu Rong took a spear thrust from Yin Wujie head-on, laughed loudly, pressed forward despite his wounds, and caught Chen Hang’s thunder art.

A fragrant-cloud treasure cart, and a middle-aged Daoist in an apricot-yellow Eight Trigrams robe, blinked, stroked his beard, as if recalling something, and sighed with emotion:

“This youth’s ferocity is truly rare in the world…”

A monk with a broad nose, wide mouth, and pendulous ears smiled upon hearing this.

He blinked, turned his head toward an elderly man with a pale face, dressed in a light blue xiaoyao cloak and adorned with gold and jade, and asked curiously:

“Wasn’t the Xu Jing Mansion, under Zhenjun Xin, also involved in the Three Xun Mountain battle, and even a main force?”

“Both of you came from the Blood River—how does Lu Rong compare to the old Daojun Chang Xi?”

The moment the Daojun’s name was spoken, the atmosphere grew suddenly oppressive, as if dark clouds had gathered overhead.

Many great cultivators turned their gazes between the monk and the old man, watching with keen interest.

The old man called Zhenjun Xin’s expression darkened; he met the monk’s gaze, and a flicker of murderous intent flashed across his face.

The Three Xun Mountain battle—

A long-ago dispute between the Blood River Sect and major sects like Xu Jing Mansion and Xuan Zan Palace, and the battle that made Chang Xi Daojun famous.

At that time, Zhenjun Xin was still a minor cultivator, lacking the status to fight; he merely watched from afar, then was escorted away by the crowd.

That battle cost Xu Jing Mansion and Xuan Zan Palace dozens of their elite disciples, bringing them great shame.

Even Zhenjun Xin learned shortly after that his third and fifth brothers had both perished in the battle—killed by Chang Xi Daojun, a peer. His clan wanted revenge, but could not act.

Kill your father, kill your husband, kill your son—once the killing intent ignites, nothing and no one is beyond slaughter!

At the Three Xun Mountains, Chang Xi Daojun, then at the Primordial Spirit realm, used this battle to carve out her fearsome reputation among the heavens and earth, leveraging her fame from the Dan Yuan Conference—where a fourth-grade pill defeated a first-grade pill—to dominate the land and become the Blood River’s Daozi without question.

Ordinary great cultivators hearing the monk mention the Three Xun Mountain battle might merely sigh in awe.

After all, achieving the Dao-Union realm with a fourth-grade pill, just one step from immortality, was a rare marvel.

But to Zhenjun Xin, who had endured the loss of his kin, the monk’s words were clearly a provocation disguised as idle talk—his intentions were far from pure.

Just as tension between the two grew, as if a quarrel would erupt in the next instant—

Fu Can, the Patriarch watching nearby, hurried over with Qi Shang to mediate, smiling and speaking soothing words, diffusing the conflict before it could ignite.

This Dan Yuan Conference, due to invitations sent by the Eight Sects and Six Clans, drew guests of extraordinarily varied origins.

Among them were many, like Zhenjun Xin and the big-eared monk, who held grudges.

But all feared the host—Xu Du, a mighty sect.

Normally they might harbor hatred, but here they only exchanged sharp words, daring not to ruin the host’s festivities.

“Lu Rong… Chang Xi Daojun…”

After smilingly greeting several acquaintances, Fu Can once again gazed upward, his expression tightening slightly.

With a second-grade Jin Dan foundation, he had already defeated two full first-grade cultivators—Wei Lingjiang and Yu Huangshang.

Lu Rong’s performance today was truly extraordinary.

It was certain that after this battle, the vacant Daozi position in the Blood River Sect would fall to him.

The big-eared monk’s association of Lu Rong with Chang Xi Daojun was not without reason.

Back then, after defeating Bei Ji Li Jie, who had formed a first-grade Golden Core, Chang Xi Daojun naturally became the Dan Yuan champion of that year.

But this time is different.

Four first-grade Jin Dan cultivators—rare even across the Nine Provinces and Four Seas—had all appeared at this conference!

Who would ultimately claim the top spot?

In Fu Can’s eyes, this was truly hard to predict…

Yet to fight two opponents at once—especially Chen Hang and Yin Wujie—and remain unyielding? That was impossible.

As Fu Can predicted, after further combat, Lu Rong—already gravely wounded—was struck simultaneously by two giant palm prints and tumbled from the clouds, spitting blood continuously.

Even as he urgently activated the Heavenly Capital Sealing Technique, his wounds could not close instantly.

Seizing this opportunity, Chen Hang and Yin Wujie did not hesitate—they withdrew their attacks and turned their focus toward each other.

In an instant, a thunderous boom echoed.

Two giant palms rose again to the zenith, their brilliant magic light blazing across the heavens, dazzling the eyes!

Each time the Five-Color Palm and the Ten-Thousand-Poisons Palm collided, they shattered mountains and rivers, like a dragon turning beneath the earth, causing spiritual energy to surge violently for a thousand zhang, echoing through the mountains!

“Go!”

As the two giant palms clashed again and exploded into swirling, chaotic smoke—

This time, Yin Wujie did not recite hand seals to reform the palm; instead, he stepped into an odd position and flung the Ten Thousand Evils Plague Smoke once more.

Around them, all was a blinding haze; Yin Wujie’s strike was hidden, his movements suppressed to the utmost.

But such an attack might catch others off guard—Chen Hang’s sword heart was crystal-clear, his perception exquisitely sharp; even the faintest breeze or rustle could not escape him, and he evaded it in time.

Before long, thick crimson bloodlight surged like a sudden gale—Lu Rong, having briefly caught his breath, charged back into battle.

The three clashed in chaotic combat, fighting without pause; wherever they passed, mountains shook, earth cracked, stones flew everywhere.

The violent vibrations of their magic power blinded the eyes, while thick smoke and dust choked the land!

An entire day passed.

Over an endless, boundless sea.

Jia Xiu, pale-faced, suddenly sensed something; he gripped his magic sword and slowly rose from the clouds, gazing northward.

At some point, a muffled sound had drifted from afar.

Even across great distance, it was clearly audible, even causing the sea below the clouds to ripple slightly.

Soon, the sound grew louder, rolling like thunder across the sky, startling countless seabirds into flight as they frantically beat their wings to escape.

In an instant, the sea churned, hurricanes rose, and multicolored lights blazed across the heavens.

Waves crashed in successive surges, towering like mountains collapsing, spraying white foam like pearls, reaching a hundred zhang high!

Under such chaotic spiritual energy, even Jia Xiu’s cultivation level could not help but feel alarmed.

When he focused his gaze and saw the vast magic light sweeping across from the north, he was first startled, then only smiled bitterly.

“As expected.”

Jia Xiu sighed.

…

…

The heavens were chaotic, wind and fire raged.

Looking out, Chen Hang, Yin Wujie, and Lu Rong’s forms flickered like floating light—suddenly east, suddenly west, nearly impossible to track where they would appear next.

Each time their magic powers clashed, the sea shattered and rolled into a thousand towering waves.

Fiery blasts mixed with blood thunder and poisonous mists scattered everywhere, as if a hundred dragons and serpents raged beneath the ocean, their might ferocious!

Even the residual shockwaves from this fierce battle killed countless fish, shrimp, and spirit creatures from afar.

Their countless corpses had barely surfaced when the rushing tides swept them away in an instant.

Seeing this scene, Jia Xiu’s already pale face lost even more color, his wariness surging sharply.

Yet they were separated by barely a dozen li, and none of the three fighting had so much as glanced at him—as if he didn’t exist…

A rolling curtain of smoke was torn apart by several violet-and-clear thunderbolts; Yin Wujie, unable to dodge, was struck down, blood gushing from nose and mouth, his body trembling uncontrollably.

Before Chen Hang could press his advantage, Lu Rong’s golden wheel came crashing down, splitting his protective magic force, spraying blood into the air.

BOOM—

Lu Rong forced up his magic power, a blood pellet the size of a pigeon’s egg flickering faintly between his fingers.

But before this Earth-Origin Forbidden Art could be unleashed, a black-gold divine spear shot through the air, barely piercing Lu Rong clean through.

Then Yin Wujie gripped the spear in hand, roared aloud, and hurled it with all his might toward the charging Chen Hang!

Amid surging killing aura, their three figures flickered in and out, each bearing wounds.

In truth, by this point, all three had spent more than half their spirit and strength.

Every technique had been exhausted in turn, none able to break the others—so only their ultimate arts remained unplayed.

Yet even without full strength, their assaults had grown fiercer than before by more than a fold.

Every strike was a killing blow, heavy and powerful; they even deliberately clashed head-on with each other’s arts, willing to trade wounds to drain the opponent’s primordial energy!

This brutal battle made Jia Xiu, watching from afar, unconsciously grip his magic sword tighter, his heart filled with complex, inexpressible emotions…

After parrying another flash of swordlight and clashing palms with Lu Rong in a lightning strike—

Yin Wujie’s thoughts shifted several times, and at last he made his decision.

He exhaled softly, and suddenly his eyes glowed with a luminous sheen, brilliant as stars; light burst forth from his pupils, illuminating the surrounding heavens and earth as if starlight flowed and moonlight reflected, all rendered transparent.

“Control!”

Yin Wujie formed a hand seal.

Instantly, the howling gales fell utterly silent; heaven and earth grew mute.

The cultivators watching, including Shen Xingcui, had not yet grasped what had happened.

The next instant, Lu Rong, closest to Yin Wujie, exploded into countless streaks of blood, scattering in all directions, while Chen Hang was flung backward inexplicably, crashing into the sea and sending up a tidal wave!

In but a moment, both Chen Hang and Lu Rong were struck—they had no time to dodge.

“This is…”

A young monk seated upon a lotus throne, his body six feet tall and golden, opened his eyes and clasped his hands in sigh.

“This art has reappeared?”

“Cosmic Time Divine Water!”

A green lion slowly rose, emitting a low murmur from its throat, its eyes brimming with unhidden greed.

As soon as this art was unleashed, the area around Ji Yichao erupted in commotion, sparking heated discussion.

And at the same moment.

In a half-new, half-ruined Daoist temple in Nan Chan Province.

The disheveled old Daoist, dozing in his rocking chair, squinted his old eyes, and after a long while, yawned lazily.

“Cosmic Time Divine Water… Kan Li…”

The old Daoist smiled.

“You really have the leisure for this. As the senior disciple of the third generation of the Tribulation Immortal lineage, you’ve loitered in my shabby temple all this time—just to see whether your Cosmic Time Divine Water was entrusted to the right person?”

“After so many years, the two great true waters—Yinming and Cosmic Time—rarely meet again. Who could resist coming to watch?”

“Besides, there’s also the White Water divine incantation—that’s even more interesting.”

Kan Li Daoist smiled faintly.

“But it’s not just that. With time to spare, I also wish to see…”

“Chen Hang… what manner of man is this disciple of the Demon Master Chen Yu?”