Chapter 421: The Last Sword—Try Killing One

“BOOM!!!!”

As sword qi surged across the high ground of Da Huang Forest, the dark night sky above also churned with tidal waves of energy, colliding with the cosmos and shaking it with thunderous roars.

In this moment, over twenty demon kings of the demon race exhausted their demonic power, leaving their bodies scarred and blood splattered across the heavens, yet still stood like an iron wall, firmly blocking the path of the voracious Jiangchen ahead.

It was not three against one—it was one against one.

Three against one might have given them a chance to survive, but they could only hold back seven Jiangchen—such a result would be meaningless.

Only by sacrificing their lives in one-on-one combat could they buy as much time as possible for their people.

But despite this, two descendants had already slipped past their rearguard.

Under this lethal situation, they had no time to turn back and confirm the situation—only feeling that the presence of the two princes and four young masters still lingered, they silently prayed within, hoping heaven would spare the demon race.

A sudden gale swept across the battlefield; an old demon king suddenly transformed, his body crashing forward like an ancient siege hammer, his massive axe infused with his entire lifetime of demonic power, unleashing a blow that split the heavens!

The axe light tore through the night, its momentum like a falling star exploding, forcibly shattering the body of the Jiangchen before him with continuous thunderous cracks.

Yet the gap between realms was like a heavenly chasm—though this desperate strike was fierce, it failed to seriously wound the enemy.

In the next instant, the Jiangchen clenched a ball of annihilating lightning in his palm, unleashing it like a torrent from the ninth heaven.

The old demon king raised his axe to meet the lightning head-on, shattering the axe’s momentum, the impact rupturing his demonic aura and hurling him away like a broken kite.

“Brother Chuhe!”

“Puff!!!”

Demon King Gu De leapt forward to catch the falling figure, only to see his old friend’s demonic body cracking inch by inch, blood gushing like a spring.

Demon King Chuhe, former third divine general under the ancient demon emperor, left his family at age 110 and entered the icy crypt beneath the demon emperor, slumbering for over two hundred years, awakening later due to tribal strife.

They had been awakened together, having endured a slumber spanning nearly a millennium; nearly everyone’s first thought upon waking was to return home.

Chuhe was no different—even before returning home, he had bought many gifts.

But when he finally arrived, he discovered nearly all his kin were already dead; though the demon emperor’s clan had always protected them, the thinning of their bloodline could not be reversed.

His only great-grandson had been enslaved at the construction site.

Now, Demon King Chuhe was drenched in blood, his gaze dimming, losing all luster.

The wounded demon king did not fear this sight—he was furious.

The descendants were favored by heaven; the human race was bound by heaven—one had ruled Qingyun for ten thousand years, the other for a thousand; neither could be said to have truly won or lost, yet both had once been heaven’s darlings. Only the demon race, it seemed, had always been abandoned by heaven, never granted even a shred of mercy.

Thus their fury was not born of the enemy’s strength, but of the injustice heaven represented behind that strength.

BOOM!!!

At this moment, all the demon kings felt a fierce battle erupt behind them, their hearts sinking.

Before their eyes, they seemed to see a mountain of corpses and seas of blood—countless clan members fallen, including fallen princes and princesses.

“ROAR—!”

With a roar laced with final resolve, the remaining old demon kings burned the last of their demonic power, unleashing an unprecedentedly ferocious counterattack that drove back their foes.

Seizing this fleeting opening, they became streaks of light, retreating swiftly toward the direction of the whistle.

They were not favored by heaven, powerless to protect their people—but they could not let the bloodline of their emperor perish.

Racing a hundred miles in the howling wind, they crossed the vast plains and reached the high ground at the edge of Da Huang Forest—then they saw a sight they could not comprehend.

The two descendant Jiangchen who had broken through their defense were still on the plain atop the high ground, panting, as if halted before Da Huang Forest, unable to pursue further.

But the problem was: beyond these demon kings, neither the two princes nor the demon generals possessed the strength to stop the descendant Jiangchen.

One of the Jiangchen ahead suddenly surged forward, his massive fist wreathed in the power to shatter mountains and split earth, crashing down upon the high ground!

Seeing this, the old demon kings instantly tensed, their eyes snapping toward the high ground.

They saw their own prince and princess standing atop the high ground—but faced with this unstoppable assault, they remained utterly still.

Unexpectedly, the human who had been training in the forest stood before them, sword in hand.

At this moment, the fist capable of shattering mountains had already slammed down.

Upon the high ground, a clear, ringing sword cry suddenly rose like a phoenix’s cry across the nine heavens.

The human drew his sword; as his sword intent stirred, countless blades of grass and trees rustled, countless withered leaves tore free from branches, transforming into icy killing intent that flowed into this single strike.

The sword light poured like a river, carrying the will of the entire forest, crashing head-on into the annihilating fist!

A deafening explosion shook the land; the violent shockwave shaved three inches off the ground, and the attacking Jiangchen was once again flung backward.

Amid the lingering, arrogant sword qi, Ji You landed with his sword, standing tall in his original position, still holding the sword with one hand, not a single step moved.

The old demon kings who had rushed over stared in stunned silence, suddenly understanding why those two Jiangchen had not advanced an inch—eyes fixed on his face, unable to look away.

Ye Han and the others, who had seen this once before, now viewed it up close and felt a strange daze.

Since human-demon trade began, they had seen many humans, always judging them as cunning and greedy—but this man was one of only two they had ever encountered who was truly bold and dominant.

Three feet of blue steel, a hundred zhang of sword qi—within this radius, bounded by the northwest high ground of Da Huang Forest, none could take a single step forward.

The only one who reacted differently was the demon princess Feng Yang.

Unlike the others, she was not shocked—instead, she stared intently at every movement he made, her eyelashes trembling slightly, her beautiful eyes filled with confusion and hesitation.

In fact, since his first sword strike, she had been in this state, as if desperately searching for something.

“There’s one final sword left...”

Feng Yang snapped back to herself, glancing at her brother—her face paled further.

After fleeing to the high ground, they had exchanged a few brief words with this man, learning he could use this sword technique only twice more—and now only one remained.

Yet no hope had appeared; they were still trapped in a certain death.

BOOM!!!

At this moment, the retreating demon kings seized their chance, slamming their palms downward—some surged toward the retreating Jiangchen, others crashed down upon the one preparing to strike again.

They sought to overwhelm the two descendants with sheer numbers and kill them outright.

But plans never keep pace with change—in the next instant, the twenty-eight Jiangchen they had just fought off surged forward, instantly pouncing on the old demon kings.

And at that very moment, the Jiangchen previously repelled broke through the demon kings’ defense once more, crashing forward.

Seeing this, Ye Han instantly gripped his long knife, drawing it with a metallic clang.

After this human unleashed his final sword, he would die here—and he had summoned the old demon kings for precisely this reason.

For before death, they would create an opening, carve a path for this human to escape.

This human had no need to wade into this mess—he was trapped here only due to their misjudgment, so they did not wish to owe him.

As the iron fist bore down, Ye Han caught sight of the human drawing his sword.

But at the very moment he drew it, the oncoming Jiangchen suddenly dodged sideways at blinding speed.

Ye Han and Feng Yang instantly paled—it was a feint!

They suddenly understood his intent: that palm was meant to trick him into using his sword, then kill him as he retracted it.

But what stunned them even more was that Ji You’s sword strike was also different.

From the sword intent, the Dao remained as furious as ever, the sword qi just as powerful—but this time, it lacked the grand, overwhelming energy of the previous strikes.

As they hesitated, Ji You suddenly leapt upward—the sword he was about to strike with was instantly pulled back to his front by a thread of spiritual energy, then caught in his other hand.