Chapter 336

The dark sky churned with wind and cloud, black-red lightning writhing like dragons and serpents.

The surging shockwaves tore through the gloomy clouds, revealing the profound chaos beneath.

The sacred artifact's essence served only as a guide in the Heavenly Dao Sacrifice, allowing them to trace back to the Heavenly Dao and sever its connection to the artifact, rendering it powerless in the mortal realm.

But to transfer ownership of the sacred artifact, one final critical condition must be met: the original wielder must die.

This moment was precisely the most opportune, for it fell within the gap of power transition.

These lofty figures had long striven to break free from their chains and ascend to the Immortal Realm; their physical forms should already be withered and no longer at their peak.

So they were not lying.

In every vision of heavenly fate glimpsed through the Heavenly Dao Sacrifice, no matter the variables, they had always accomplished this feat—hundred victories, never a loss.

Yet stubbornness had always been a deep-rooted flaw in humanity, not easily swayed by mere words to peacefully surrender power.

Thus, a great war was inevitable.

The first to erupt into battle was the Xuan Yuan Immortal Mansion.

Beneath a low, black sun, Chu Xiong, lord of the Chu family, clad in purple robes, radiated fierce malevolence; with a flick of his hand, he unleashed countless killing lights, like a meteor crashing to earth.

The sky turned from bluish-yellow to utter darkness in an instant, leaving only the overwhelming firelight stretching across the distant horizon.

The abbot of Xuan Yuan Immortal Mansion appeared atop the mountain peak, raising his palm to meet the assault, his eyelids trembling uncontrollably.

Then, in the northwest of Yongzhou, a straight black beam descended from the sky, and the Shanghai Pavilion's sacred palace was instantly engulfed in a thunderous explosion.

The Five-Color Cliff collapsed along with it, reduced to flat earth by the churning airwaves.

The Shanghai Pavilion's abbot emerged from the sacred palace, which had tilted but not collapsed, his face grim; he surged toward the second black beam—only to see the elder patriarch of the Wei family descending from above.

Following closely behind was the Li family's ancestral patriarch, who descended upon Wenda Mountain.

He held a short blade, dressed in a bright yellow robe embroidered with five-clawed golden dragons; his figure, restored to vigor, resembled a young emperor in the prime of his reign.

The Li family had once been the fallen imperial house of the warring states era; after the founding of Great Xia, they existed merely as an ordinary clan, yet old men of the former age clung to outdated customs, obsessed with donning the yellow robe.

"BOOM!!!!"

A colossal blade of light fell with savage force.

The Wenda Sect's abbot met it head-on with his jade orb, his face gradually twisting into a monstrous snarl.

Battles between Linxian cultivators were powerful enough to shake heaven and earth; even across a thousand li, the rips in the sky were filled with endless immortal light, surging outward in relentless waves.

Simultaneously, because this realm was so close to the Heavenly Dao, the entire Qingyun region was affected.

Countless mountain ranges trembled like earth dragons turning over; unannounced torrents of rain poured from all directions, causing the Nujiang and Wujiang rivers to swell instantly, then burst their banks.

The scene resembled the dome of heaven shattering, the Heavenly River pouring down—far more terrifying than any corpse tide.

Beneath the six immortal sects' domains, countless clans that had gathered due to the corpse tide fled in panic once more.

"What in the world is happening?"

"Go, hurry, Linxian cultivators are fighting…"

"The heavens and earth are overturned…"

The fact that the Zheng family's ancestral patriarch had appeared in Qiling as a Linxian cultivator was no secret; all major clans knew of it.

Now, with a coalition of thousand-year clans having plotted for years, many understood that Linxian cultivators would inevitably emerge.

Beneath the terrifying sky, countless fleeing figures flew through the air; even a hundred li away, none dared pause or look back.

In Shengjing City, at the Chong Prince's mansion.

Watching the distant sky erupt in killing light, the sky in chaos, all cultivators within the compound turned ashen-faced.

"They did it—the Chu family, Li family, Wei family… first the corpse tide, then the sacred artifacts, now Linxian cultivators attacking the sects—each step tightly linked."

"Nonsense! What right do they have to influence the sacred artifacts?!"

The lords of the Qiu, Huang, Sheng, and other clans turned to the Chong Prince, their eyes filled with fear and instinctive denial.

The Chong Prince, pale as death, pointed to the city wall: "The collapse of the grand array proves the sacred artifacts have failed—this is the true calamity."

In truth, since the corpse tide began, this entire affair had repeatedly shattered people's understanding.

The thousand-year clans had united in rebellion, marching for days without word returning; yet deep down, no one had felt truly anxious.

Ultimately, it was because they unconsciously believed the sacred artifacts still held sway—a habit ingrained in humanity over a thousand years.

But now, they finally realized: the heavens and earth were about to be overturned.

A Linxian cultivator had entered an immortal sect; the sacred artifacts had failed; the immortal sects would no longer be invincible.

True, the Qingyun clans had long resented the lofty immortal sects; many ambitious souls had dreamed in broad daylight of replacing them.

Even some who harbored deep hatred for the immortal sects wished for several of them to perish.

But when they truly saw the impossible become reality, they felt terror deep in their souls.

For all these years the immortal sects had existed, their lives had at least been stable.

Though they occasionally heard of the main branches of the immortal sects violating Qingyun immortal laws without punishment, at least those laws did restrain many human calamities.

No one dared imagine what tomorrow would bring if the immortal sects fell after this calamity and power passed into others' hands.

At the peak of Nishan, the three remaining hall masters had turned pale.

They had learned the full picture of the dead end through soul-linking; they finally believed everything Chu Yu had said.

They had prepared for so many years; they would leave not a single shred of life for the six immortal sects at the final moment.

Yet those who felt it most deeply were those within Risheng County.

Shanghai Pavilion was closest; they had already felt the battle's residual waves, proving the crisis was imminent, the killing trap already triggered.

No one knew what the towering black beam was, but they understood that since it relied on the Heavenly Dao Sacrifice, interrupting the sacrifice would suffice.

In truth, stopping the Heavenly Dao Sacrifice was not difficult—it was simple.

Kill the one performing the rite, and the entire ceremony would collapse and dissipate.

They had already scanned with their spiritual sense; the one presiding over this Heavenly Dao Sacrifice was none other than the former Xuan Yuan Sacred Disciple, Chu Xian.

Like cultivation, performing a sacrifice to the Heavenly Dao demanded extraordinary insight; otherwise, past sacrifices would not have left so many unable to perceive anything—let alone that he was not merely performing the rite, but manipulating something.

So it was him—the performers of the rite—no one found it surprising.

Chu Xian was indeed a brilliant prodigy, but also ruthless.

Yet this realm had been entirely sealed off by malevolent energy; even the six immortal sects, having reached this point, had hit their limit.

Once they entered the range of the Heavenly Dao Sacrifice, they would be drawn by the Heavenly Dao, lost, and dissolve into Dao—utterly powerless.

Countless eyes turned, gazing at Shang Xiyao, Huo Xingzhong, and the Chen brothers, Chen Luo and Chen Xi.

They were the immortal sects' direct disciples; these demons sought to seize their ancestral legacy; in everyone's eyes, they must do something.

But all four stood motionless, their expressions dark; though their eyes appeared cold, faint traces of fear were visible.

A certain death with no chance—they dared not attempt it.

"Return to the sect. I will die alongside my father."

Huo Xingzhong clenched his fist, then his eyes flashed with resolve.

Hearing this, those around him wore strange expressions.

For everyone knew: to die alongside one's father, one need only stay here; "returning to the sect to die" was merely a pretense—they knew that compared to this certain death, returning to the sect might still offer a sliver of hope.

Before they could leave, a terrified shout erupted from the southern city wall.

"Traitorous disciple!!!!"

"Senior brother!!!!"

The disciples of the six immortal sects were instantly snapped back to reality, turning toward Kunmen.

On the city wall, Cao Jingsong and others widened their eyes, their faces twisting into monstrous snarls, their eyeballs reddened by surging blood.

Everyone turned to where they stared—and saw Ji You stepping forward, expressionless, gripping his long sword, descending into the thick malevolent energy.

He leapt with utter finality, utterly sudden.

Cao Jingsong had long feared Ji You would follow Yan Shuyi to pursue that tall man; he had been on guard—but when Ji You moved, he only tore off a ragged scrap of cloth from Ji You's back.

Others atop the wall also widened their eyes in disbelief, staring at that figure.

Especially Ding Yao and Zhuo Wanqiu—their minds exploded like thunder, their faces instantly pale.

Even the demons who had ceased fighting and waited for victory now showed traces of disbelief, gazing down from above, their eyes filled with confusion.

"Has he gone mad?!"

"Isn't he the one who hated the immortal sects most? What does it matter to him if the six immortal sects perish?!"

"THUD!!"

A heavy, muffled crash echoed—the crowd saw Ji You slam hard onto the ground.

The altar wall was high, but for cultivators, insignificant; such a clumsy landing was impossible.

The only explanation: he had lost consciousness the moment he entered, hence the fall.

He had entered the Heavenly Dao Sacrifice.

The Heavenly Dao Sacrifice was a bridge to the Heavenly Dao; compared to arduous cultivation, this rite was like a carriage—a vehicle that carried the soul away on its own.