Chapter 1639

The sky had brightened fully, and the Yinming Continent grew still.

The death of the Yin Emperor's son had not only enraged the Yin Emperor's Palace, but also stirred the Primordial Chaos—a destructive force that swept across the Haoyu Starry Sky.

Here, Yin Chen had long since departed, treading a phantom staircase, merging into Yin Emperor City, heading straight for the Yin Emperor's Palace; Yin Jue's death had granted him a chance at destiny.

His speed was extreme; no one noticed him, as he raced like wind and lightning.

In his eyes, besides excitement, there was anticipation—anticipation that this opportunity might help him glimpse the threshold of Great Completion.

Hum!

With one step, he arrived outside the Yin Emperor's Palace.

Yin Jue's arrival made the Yin Emperor and Yin Empress frown slightly; their beloved daughter had been strangely agitated this morning, hurrying off to the Yin Emperor's Palace at dawn.

The Yin Emperor's expression darkened further; from Yin Jue's slightly panicked face, he sensed an odd hue, and inexplicably, he felt something ominous.

The Yin Empress, however, remained calm, sipping tea quietly; her gaze was profoundly deep.

"My descendant, do you know what a foolish thing you've done?" the Yin Emperor said coldly, fixing his gaze on Yin Jue; Yin Jue's actions unsettled him—a sense of crisis, his state hinting at a secret, a secret tied to the Yin Emperor family's lineage.

"I..." Yin Jue had barely opened his mouth when he was interrupted.

For the Imperial Dao inheritance had already activated; one by one, Imperial weapons awoke, and whenever anyone drew near, they were struck down—each attack carried the power to obliterate heaven and earth; even Yin Jue's cultivation could not withstand it, crushed into kneeling submission, gasping for breath, nearly split apart alive.

The Yin Emperor's eyes dimmed considerably—he knew Yin Jue had triggered the inheritance; the Imperial weapon's assault had locked onto him, and once the strike fell, he would be utterly erased, even his soul unable to escape; this meant that even if he could not prevail, he must endure—dead or alive, the Yin Emperor family could not lose its ancestors' glory.

Puff!

How terrifying was the Imperial artifact's assault? One strike, and Yin Jue spat blood, his spine pierced, his five viscera and six bowels shattered, nearly scattering his soul on the spot; had it not been for his protective armor, he would surely have been Form and Spirit Annihilated; even so, he could not stand, collapsing onto the ground.

"I..."

Yin Jue staggered back, blood trickling from his lips, his gaze dimming further; he was indeed Yin Jue, but his father was not Yin Jue—he was the Ninth Reincarnated One of Da Chu: Yin Chen.

Yin Jue was born of Yin Chen's past life; the two shared the same root and origin.

Yin Chen's bloodline was of Imperial Dao caliber.

Moreover, his Imperial Son bloodline was no ordinary Imperial Son bloodline.

Yin Jue knew nothing of this, and could not believe it—a mere Pretender Emperor possessing the potential of an Emperor; even the mere pressure of his bloodline made him tremble uncontrollably.

Boom! Crash! Boom!

Yin Chen's thoughts were drowned out by the thunderous roars; the Yin Emperor's inheritance had fully awakened.

Bang! Clang! Clatter!

The clashing of metal echoed across the Four Seas and Eight Wildernesses; the Yin Emperor's remaining Imperial Dao inheritance was immensely powerful—even though each Imperial artifact possessed sentience, they were still suppressed, unable to resist the call of the Imperial Dao.

Imperial Son—Yin Chen's Imperial Son, the true Yin Jue?

Far across the stars, someone murmured, brimming with shock.

"Imperial Son?" More people turned, hearing the words "Imperial Son"; all who heard it—regardless of cultivation level, age, gender—turned collectively toward the east, where a towering mountain stood atop a peak, its summit black as ink, wreathed in Lei Ting; within it hung a magnificent palace, shining with brilliant divine radiance, interwoven with the celestial tones of the Dao; only by listening closely could one discern it was the Emperor's scripture.

The Yin Emperor's Imperial Dao inheritance was also considered a forbidden zone here, where no one dared to set foot.

Yet who could have imagined that the palace within this forbidden zone concealed an Imperial Son?

In this instant, all mortals understood why Yin Jue had fought so desperately to seize the Imperial Dao inheritance; his ambition far surpassed their expectations—his father, though alive, was a puppet, powerless and without authority; even with boundless power, he was but a prop; he sought to reclaim the Yin Emperor Palace, to seize control of Da Chu's Jiangshan, to establish an alternative dynasty.

"Are you Yin Jue?"

"You are not Yin Jue?"

"How could the Yin Emperor's Imperial Son be Yin Jue? Yin Jue is already dead."

The Underworld boiled over; too many rushed toward the east, filled with awe for the forbidden zone, yet even more were exhilarated—Yin Jue was the Yin Emperor's legitimate son; if he failed, who would inherit the throne? They were not fools: if Yin Jue was the Imperial Son, then he was not Yin Jue; his title of Imperial Son applied only to those within the Underworld.

In an instant, the myriad realms erupted; countless beings lifted their heads, gazing through the misty clouds, as if they could already see the towering mountain in the east.

"The Yin Emperor's child?" Yin Jue's mother also trembled, her beautiful eyes widening, staring fixedly at Yin Jue, as if recognizing his identity; her eyes held a glimmer of hope, yearning to learn the whereabouts of her son.

Alas, Yin Jue gave no reply; his fists clenched tightly, nails piercing his flesh.

"Who are you?" the Yin Emperor's cold rebuke rang out, his words solemn and hollow, as if echoing from the end of time.

The Yin Emperor's words caused the Immortal Lords to lift their gazes, gazing across the boundless void toward Yin Jue, their expressions curious; even if he were an Imperial Son, Yin Jue was still a junior—how dare he act so arrogantly?

"I am called Yin Jue," Yin Jue grinned ferociously, eyes wild with madness.

"You are not Yin Jue," the Empress Yinyue said calmly; with her wisdom, she instantly saw through the ruse—Yin Jue was the Yin Emperor's biological son, their bloodlines identical; it could not be false.

The Yin Emperor also realized this—his own bloodline had awakened, uncontrollably.

Yet Yin Jue bore the Yin Emperor's bloodline, and yet the Yin Emperor himself had appeared.

"Who are you?" the Yin Emperor's voice was icy and bone-chilling.

"I am the Emperor you sealed yourself," Yin Jue roared, his voice like a golden lion's roar, echoing across the entire Underworld and into all three thousand worlds—ancient dynasties, ancient sects, even humble tribes—all were shaken, ears ringing.

The Yin Emperor froze for an instant, unable to hide his shock.

The Emperor he had sealed... was the Imperial Dao inheritance.

As the Yin Emperor stood stunned, the pressure of the Yin Emperor's inheritance surged again; though he lacked the full set of Imperial artifacts, he was no weaker than them; the Imperial Dao formation enveloped heaven and earth, sealing Yin Jue, suppressing Yin Jue, and sealing the Yin Emperor Palace.

"Who are you?" the Yin Emperor roared, shaking the Qiankun, thunderous, rolling thunder cracking the heavens.

"I am the Emperor you slew yourself—your father."

With these words, a vision suddenly flashed before the Yin Emperor's eyes—the clearest memory of his life: that night, he slaughtered the Yin Emperor Palace, slashing through the Yin Emperor with a single sword; the memory remained vivid; his hands were stained with blood; yet even witnessing it, he still could not believe it.

He was the Lord of the Underworld!

Alas, his Imperial Son Yin Jue had ultimately taken a twisted path, defying heaven, altering fate, stealing the destiny that rightfully belonged to him, aspiring to ascend the Yin Emperor throne and become the new Yin Emperor; he was cruel, bloodthirsty, ferocious, using vile and despicable means to force his father into oblivion, causing him to annihilate the Yin Emperor Palace.

He never dreamed he would be betrayed by his own Imperial Son.

The Imperial Dao inheritance was not merely terrifying—it was monstrous.

"Yin Jue, I will not give you a chance."

The Dark Emperor's roar of rage echoed through the nine heavens; with a single step, he crossed the vast expanse of heaven and earth, slamming down a palm from the sky—a colossal hand that obliterated all things and shattered the ancient immortal dome.

Unfortunately, his massive hand exploded violently the moment it touched that towering palace.

"Bold indeed," the Dark Emperor hissed, spinning around instantly, gazing down at Mo Ce across the misty void, his brows furrowing slightly—his Imperial Dao inheritance was indeed profoundly unfathomable.

"I am Mo Ce, heir to the Imperial Dao," Mo Ce shrieked, his face twisted in agony.

"You… are unworthy to be my offspring," the Dark Emperor roared, shattering vast stretches of nothingness; the Emperor's pressure surged infinitely, engulfing Mo Ce.

Mo Ce grunted and retreated, stumbling backward with each step.

Yet he did not halt—he slid backward while activating a forbidden technique, layer upon layer, fusing his own bloodline with a mysterious bloodline to amplify his combat power.

This fool was tragic—he had hoped to harness the Imperial Dao's will to stage a powerful comeback, yet never imagined the Dark Emperor's Imperial Dao will was even more tyrannical than an Emperor weapon, shattering his Divine-Monster Battlefield inch by inch.

Boom! Crash!

The battle between the Dark Emperor and Mo Ce was ferocious, each strike more devastating than the last.

The Dark Emperor's figure blurred, his aura weakened, blood trickling from his lips, his body riddled with wounds as he crushed nothingness in his path.

In contrast, Mo Ce was no better—every inch of his skin gushed with deep gashes, his ribs exposed as pale bone, his back exploded open, his spine shattered.

The two Imperial heirs fought evenly, neither gaining the upper hand.

Yet as time passed, Mo Ce gradually fell into disadvantage; though the Dark Emperor's inheritance was tyrannical, he possessed only a sliver of the Emperor's will and could not unleash his full power. Mo Ce suffered terribly—again and again he spat blood, his once youthful body now a bloody pulp, every part of him throbbing with pain.

Spurt! Spurt! Spurt!

Blood blossomed, a horrifying sight.

The title of Imperial Heir was no empty boast—though reduced to half a skull, he had withstood hundreds of strikes, enduring them all.

"You are unworthy to be the Dark Emperor. You are a traitor," Mo Ce hissed through gritted teeth.

"A traitor?" The Dark Emperor erupted in fury—his Imperial Dao's dignity had been defiled; how dare a mere insect like this descendant call him a traitor?

A sliver of the Emperor's divinity ignited like fire, amplifying boundless power.

Boom!

Instantly, Mo Ce's head exploded, his spiritual essence and true form annihilated.

"I am the rightful Emperor," the Dark Emperor roared hoarsely.