Chapter 346: Three Thousand Splendors, a Flick of the Finger in an Instant

The murderous intent of the terrifying will, formless and insubstantial, is deadlier than the sharpest blade, striking directly at the very foundation of Feng Caichen's existence.

That Dao sound of "Forbidden… Execution!" carried a cold will that extinguishes all life, causing some Heavenly Pride divine souls on the ultimate battlefield to tear as if they were witnessing divine retribution.

Ye Wuque stood still, his black martial robe fluttering slightly in the afterglow of the formless killing intent; his Dark Eye instantly hardened, and deep within the pupil seemed a silver temporal vortex flash and vanish.

"This feeling… cannot be wrong, it's the terrifying will!"

Ye Wuque felt a chill in his heart.

He had been deeply impressed by this terrifying will bearing peerless killing intent; not long ago, when he attained the Human King Extreme Realm Extreme Path Space, it had also drawn the torment of this terrifying will.

Now, this familiar, loathsome killing intent has locked onto Feng Caichen!

"Could it be that…"

Ye Wuque's gaze sharpened as he looked toward the distant white‑clothed figure, a thought flashing like lightning.

"Lao Feng… has also taken that step? Reached the level that can trigger the Forbidden‑sense of the terrifying will?"

Recalling Feng Caichen's soaring, pure‑to‑the‑extreme brilliant sword intent, and the cold, sharp, battle‑ready resolve in his eyes when facing this terrifying killing intent, Ye Wuque sensed an answer forming.

At this moment, the entire ultimate battlefield had fallen into a sea of Dead Silence terror.

Though the descending killing intent primarily targeted Feng Caichen, the scattered threads of its aura still made all living beings feel as if they were falling into an ice cave, their souls trembling.

"What the—! What… what kind of power is this?! I feel my Dao Foundation shaking!"

A massive Heavenly Pride, clad in beast hide, with a fierce complexion and cold sweat on his brow, found his proud, robust Flesh suddenly frail, as if it could crumble at any moment before this formless killing intent.

"Heavenly Sword… what exactly did Feng Caichen experience? How could his mere appearance instantly draw such terrifying World‑Destroying Killing Intent? This is an unending calamity!"

Another girl, born with nine hundred ninety‑nine wings on her back, spoke cautiously, her voice heavy; the extinction meaning embedded in the killing intent made this naturally keen‑sensed being feel a near‑collapse of terror.

A few Heavenly Pride of extremely ancient lineage, broad experience, or whose inheritance involved certain Forbidden Secrets, suddenly saw their pupils shrink to needle‑point size, their faces showing indescribable shock and horror, even mixed with a hint of awe they themselves had never noticed.

Amid the focus of countless horrified gazes, the destructive killing light manifested by the terrifying will—vague yet infinitely lethal, as if capable of erasing all souls—descended to a point three feet above Feng Caichen's head!

Its speed and might were so swift and fierce that no reaction time was left.

Many living beings even closed their eyes in unwillingness, as if foreseeing the tragic fall of this peerless sword god.

Yet Feng Caichen's clear, handsome face remained calm, only the sharp cold glint in his clear Dark Eye almost materializing into sword qi ready to burst forth!

He was not merely awaiting death; the brilliant sword intent within him was already like a volcano about to erupt!

But it seemed he need not act personally.

Buzz—!

A faint yet unusually clear hum resonated from Feng Caichen's chest.

The sword‑shaped pendant he always wore close to his body, plain and unadorned, suddenly erupted with a warm yet resilient light, trembling rapidly!

It was as if an ancient deity long asleep had been startled awake by external malice at this moment.

Immediately after, an indescribable, age‑spanning, melancholy aura seeped out from that sword‑shaped pendant.

This aura was not domineering, yet it was so heavy it suffocated, as if bearing the dust of countless histories and the weight of time.

Simultaneously, an ancient, weathered voice that had seen the rise and fall of worlds, bearing a timeless loneliness, gently sounded—not loud, yet oddly eclipsing the howl of the terrifying killing intent, clearly echoing in every living being's heart:

"Three thousand splendors, a flick of the finger in an instant, the endless years, merely a handful of sand…"