In the void.

  The old man seated on the barren continent stared with faint astonishment in his deep eyes.

  “This is a world with backbone.”

  After a long silence, only a soft sigh drifted above the icy land—tinged with unmistakable envy.

  Far away, the wanderers perched on their lifeless continents were equally stunned.

  “They actually blocked it?”

  “Golden Cores and Foundation Builders holding back a Spirit Severing strike… unbelievable.”

  “We could never do that. If the cultivators of our worlds had possessed even half this courage, we would never have fallen so low.”

  Many sighed with bitter regret.

  Some even looked heartbroken.

  But that was all it remained—sighs.

  Because no one believed the Five Phoenixes could truly win.

  The Heavenly Dragon Holy Son was a holy son of a high martial world, Spirit Severing realm, armed with multiple saint-tier artifacts.

  Even if the entire world united, what chance did they have?

  Some wanderers began to stir restlessly.

  Qi Liujia’s killing array still blocked their path, but greed was gnawing at their restraint.

  Once the holy son slaughtered these ants, the world would destabilize. The origin would fluctuate.

  That would be their moment to strike.

  Even scraps from a holy son’s table would be treasure.

  Moreover, the way the Heavenly Dragon Holy Son had forced his way through the outer array gave many ideas.

  Qi Liujia sensed their agitation.

  But he did nothing.

  Blocking everyone forever was impossible.

  If they wanted to charge in and die, let them.

  The earth-tier array protecting the Five Phoenixes itself was far deadlier anyway.

  …

  Bloody Battlefield.

  Crimson storms howled.

  Sand and gravel rolled across the frozen ground.

  The Heavenly Dragon Holy Son stood atop his chariot, face dark as the abyss.

  His golden halberd blazed with flowing light.

  Far away, a horrific chasm stretched across the earth—carved by that single sweep.

  Yet on the other side…

  The ants still lived.

  “They… blocked it?”

  Disbelief twisted his features.

  He felt his cheeks burn as though these natives had slapped him across the face.

  Qi Liujia was watching.

  All those wanderers were watching.

  And he, a holy son of a high martial world, had been stopped by mid-martial ants.

  Golden Core and Foundation realm ants!

  “Hahaha!”

  Amid the ranks, Jiang Li laughed—wild, exhilarated laughter.

  His silver armor was shattered, cracks spiderwebbing across it.

  They had held!

  The Dao of the army formation!

  This was his path!

  High above, the Infant Transformation elder from Martial Emperor City stared in awe.

  He looked down at the blood-soaked, laughing Jiang Li and drew a deep breath.

  The Five Phoenixes… they really were miracle-makers.

  Using army formations to fuse the power of six thousand Foundation and Golden Core cultivators into a strike that rivaled Spirit Severing!

  Unthinkable!

  Many hands make light work? That saying had no place in true cultivation—one expert could slaughter ten thousand.

  But the Dao of the army formation was different.

  It perfectly merged six thousand cultivators’ strength and will into a terrifying whole.

  Though the block had only been possible thanks to his own Infant Transformation outburst and the Human Emperor’s Imperial Dragon Qi, there was no denying it.

  Jiang Li had forged a path never before seen in the cultivation world!

  “No matter how many ants there are… they are still ants.”

  The Heavenly Dragon Holy Son slowly raised his halberd.

  Killing intent boiled.

  They had angered him.

  His gaze swept the battlefield and locked onto the floating Infant Transformation elder.

  Kill that one, and the ants would collapse.

  Numbers meant nothing.

  If numbers mattered, why cultivate at all?

  Rumble!

  The chariot wheels spun, carving deep scars into the blood-soaked earth.

  BOOM!

  The chariot shot skyward, straight for the elder.

  The old man’s face twisted with fury.

  Jiang Li and the soldiers had ignited something inside him.

  He would not retreat.

  Fight!

  Jiang Li, drenched in blood, roared again.

  “KILL!”

  His voice rolled like thunder across the heavens.

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  Three thousand Xuanwu Guards and three thousand Southern Prefecture troops bellowed as one.

  “KILL!”

  Murderous intent tore through the sky.

  The colossal blood-colored war god reappeared, swinging a mountain-shattering sword.

  “Hmph.”

  The holy son sneered.

  He tossed the dragon pearl skyward.

  Dazzling light exploded from it. A golden dragon phantom coiled around him, forming an unbreakable shield.

  The blood-colored sword struck the barrier—and left not even a scratch.

  His halberd swept toward the elder.

  BOOM!

  Golden light flared. A ferocious beast phantom seemed to materialize along the blade.

  The elder’s mind wavered for a fatal instant.

  When he recovered, the halberd was already upon him.

  Pfft!

  Blood sprayed hundreds of meters through the air.

  An Infant Transformation expert—bisected.

  His mutated Nascent Soul barely escaped, but another golden flash chased it, intent on annihilation.

  This fight had never been fair.

  The Heavenly Dragon Holy Son was simply too strong.

  Watching the elder fall, despair washed over the battlefield.

  Even Jiang Li’s furious roars and the combined might of thousands could change nothing.

  The elder, knowing escape was impossible, revealed a savage grin.

  His Nascent Soul lunged at the holy son.

  BOOM!

  A Nascent Soul detonation rocked the heavens.

  The holy son swept his halberd coldly, scattering the blast.

  He reveled in this.

  He loved watching ants realize their helplessness.

  In the void, Qi Liujia sighed.

  His eyes flickered—should he intervene?

  He glanced toward the Golden Body Continent, as if trying to peer through the void into the origin space.

  “Should I do the kid a favor?”

  “This boy activated the ‘Proximity’ array word and carries imperial blood…”

  Then—

  His gaze snapped back to the battlefield.

  He had thought the Five Phoenixes were finished.

  But perhaps… there was still hope.

  …

  The holy son’s halberd flashed again.

  The blood-colored war god was cleaved in two.

  The chariot thundered forward, ready to grind every ant beneath its wheels.

  Jiang Li coughed blood. His silver armor had shattered completely, revealing blood-soaked white robes beneath.

  Every pore wept crimson.

  The army formation was still imperfect—he had only just comprehended it.

  Bearing the full weight alone was tearing his body apart.

  The war god’s destruction wounded his spirit as well.

  “A mob is still a mob. Boring.”

  The holy son smiled faintly.

  His halberd swept once more.

  Pfft!

  Xuanwu Guards holding shields were bisected, flesh and armor exploding.

  Yet the formation did not break—fallen warriors were instantly replaced.

  The holy son swept again and again, a meat grinder of golden light.

  One after another, Xuanwu Guards fell, blood painting the battlefield.

  Jiang Li could no longer hold.

  He dropped to one knee, hair wild, blood pouring from mouth and nose.

  His sword cracked, then shattered.

  “I’m still too weak…”

  Guilt filled his eyes.

  Every fallen soldier was a knife in his heart.

  If only he were stronger—if his body could withstand the power of a million, ten million soldiers—then one swing of the blood war god could have ended this monster.

  Tantai Xuan aged ten years in an instant.

  He beat the war drums with trembling hands.

  But watching his men die one by one, rage and helplessness consumed him.

  Imperial Dragon Qi poured from him, bolstering the survivors.

  But it wasn’t enough.

  His dragon qi was still too weak.

  Pfft.

  Tantai Xuan coughed blood.

  Suddenly he understood Young Master Lu’s words.

  The world needed to grow stronger.

  They were all too weak.

  Beside him, Xie Yunling frantically laid arrays, face growing paler with every shattered jade talisman.

  The holy son laughed coldly.

  His halberd pressed down like the judgment of heaven.

  He drove his battered bronze chariot slowly toward the kneeling Jiang Li.

  A rare genius who had pioneered the Dao of army formations.

  What a pity—born in the wrong world.

  He looked down from on high.

  “You wanted to be the savior.”

  “Unfortunately… you’re not qualified.”

  “In this world, strength reigns supreme.”

  His voice was soft, almost gentle.

  Then the halberd fell.

  A golden blur aimed to sever Jiang Li’s head.

  Behind him, every soldier cried out in grief and fury.

  On the chariot, Tantai Xuan shuddered, vomiting blood.

  “No!”

  Old Tang Xiansheng closed his eyes, unable to watch.

  Despair blanketed the battlefield.

  The holy son savored it.

  This was how ants should behave.

  Buzz…

  Suddenly—a sonic boom split the air.

  A streak of black lightning fell from the heavens.

  A crisis sense screamed in the holy son’s heart.

  His halberd flicked upward.

  Clang!

  Sparks flew.

  A black blade met his golden halberd.

  The holy son stood unmoving on his chariot, hair whipping in the wind, staring at the newcomer.

  White robes fluttering, stubbled and weathered.

  Cold eyes gleaming with heart-stopping sharpness.

  BOOM!

  Terrifying blade intent erupted.

  The bronze chariot was forced back a hundred li.

  Jiang Li lived.

  The soldiers roared with sudden hope.

  They looked toward the lone figure standing tall.

  White robes, gripping a crude black butcher’s blade.

  “Nie…”

  “It’s Nie Changqing—the pride of the Human List!”

  “Young Master Lu’s disciple!”

  Many soldiers flushed with excitement.

  Hadn’t Nie Changqing been trapped inside the immortal formation?

  He was the first to break free?

  Nie Changqing sheathed his blade and glanced at the broken Jiang Li.

  “You okay?”

  If anything happened to Jiang Li, that chicken-raising girl would lose it.

  Jiang Li shook his head and exhaled.

  “It’s yours now.”

  He had done all he could.

  Nie Changqing smiled.

  “Got it.”

  Simple words rang across the battlefield, carried by wind and rolling sand.

  A promise between men.

  He turned back to the distant holy son.

  The overwhelming aura rolling off the enemy made him narrow his eyes.

  “Good. My blade… is thirsty.”

  The words fell.

  Nie Changqing vanished, leaving only afterimages as he charged straight at the holy son.

  “Spirit Severing?”

  The Heavenly Dragon Holy Son laughed.

  He wasn’t surprised the world possessed a Spirit Severing cultivator.

  A world on the verge of becoming high martial would be a joke without one.

  “But a native is still a native!”

  Killing intent surged.

  Why send ants first if they had a Spirit Severing?

  Were they looking down on him?

  BOOM!

  His halberd swept out, sharp enough to slice the heavens.

  Nie Changqing drew with one hand from low to high.

  Their edges clashed—perfectly matched.

  The holy son stood unmoving.

  Nie Changqing drifted backward.

  One exchange, and the gap was clear.

  The holy son was stronger.

  Nie Changqing shook his head.

  “Ten years of bitter training, countless battles inside illusions… but nothing replaces real life-or-death combat. I’m a little rusty.”

  Then his aura exploded.

  A blooming lotus of spiritual sense unfurled around him.

  Yin Spirit Realm!

  Ten years inside the immortal formation had pushed him into the Yin Spirit stage!

  “You are no match for this holy son. Wait your turn—I’ll take your head soon enough.”

  The holy son sneered, utterly confident.

  He didn’t think Nie Changqing was strong enough.

  Early-stage Spirit Severing—how could he possibly stand against a mid-stage holy son armed with two saint-tier treasures?

  Even suppressed by the world’s protective power, he was still mid-stage!

  BOOM!

  Nie Changqing attacked relentlessly, blade light raining down.

  His spine arched like a dragon, roaring with every strike.

  Nine Heavenly Locks gave him an unshakable foundation—raw power far beyond ordinary cultivators.

  The holy son met him blow for blow, but shock grew in his heart.

  This man’s foundation was absurdly solid—stronger than his own Nine-Revolution Golden Core!

  Greed flickered in the holy son’s eyes.

  No wonder this world could challenge high martial.

  If he could seize their foundation-building methods, the Nine Dragons Minor World would rise another level!

  Their clash sent shockwaves tearing across the battlefield, grinding the ground to dust.

  “Blade Control.”

  Black blades hovered around Nie Changqing.

  He sent them streaking across the sky in sweeping arcs.

  His face was resolute, eyes burning with unyielding will.

  Ten years sealed in illusions.

  He had relived everything—remembered that rainy night he met Young Master Lu.

  The night of his rebirth.

  The beginning of his path.

  Since then, he had chased Lu Fan’s footsteps.

  He wanted strength.

  He wanted to be among the strongest, to bring his wife home from the Daoist sect.

  He had succeeded.

  After that, only the pursuit of the blade remained.

  He wanted Young Master Lu’s recognition.

  He wanted to see genuine awe in those ever-calm eyes when he swung his blade.

  So he trained.

  One slash.

  For ten years, he trained only one slash.

  In the tenth year, he shattered the illusion and walked out of the formation.

  Now, a true enemy stood before him.

  Nie Changqing sheathed every floating blade into one.

  He gripped it at his waist and looked up—past the blood clouds, as if gazing straight at Young Master Lu.

  He didn’t know where the Young Master was.

  But he believed Lu was watching.

  As a disciple of Bai Yujing, he would not bring shame.

  The holy son suddenly felt crushing pressure.

  He could not believe it.

  Why did this white-robed native make him feel threatened?

  Even suppressed, he was mid-stage Spirit Severing with two saint-tier artifacts!

  On what grounds?!

  BOOM!

  Invisible shockwaves exploded outward.

  On the barren continent, Qi Liujia’s dim eyes suddenly blazed.

  “This feeling…”

  “Dao Intent?!”

  Rumble!

  Nie Changqing’s aura kept rising.

  Hair dancing, robes snapping in the wind.

  His eyes burned brighter.

  The holy son’s unease spiked.

  Roar!

  He hurled the dragon pearl skyward.

  Golden light erupted.

  A massive golden dragon phantom coiled around him, forming an impenetrable defense.

  With a saint-tier defensive treasure active, he relaxed slightly.

  Then fury followed.

  He—a holy son—had been frightened by a mid-martial native?!

  His face twisted with killing intent.

  His halberd swept out in a world-shattering arc.

  On the Bloody Battlefield.

  Nie Changqing moved.

  BOOM!

  He drew the blade at his waist.

  The ground beneath his feet exploded into rubble.

  Amid flying dust and debris, his low voice rang like thunder.

  “Fourth-tier Sequence Dao Intent: Unsheathe…”

  “Dragon Slayer.”

  The next instant.

  A simple, unadorned blade light emerged from the dust.

  It grew, becoming a titanic edge that blotted out the sky.

  “Dao Intent?!”

  And no ordinary Dao Intent!

  The Heavenly Dragon Holy Son’s expression shattered.

  Now he understood his dread.

  Damn it all!

  Why did a mid-martial world have a monster who comprehended Dao Intent?!

  Pfft!

  The plain blade light flashed past.

  The golden dragon phantom exploded!

  The holy son roared, twisting into a soaring dragon.

  Yet the blade still carved through him—scales flying, blood raining down!

  For one heartbeat, the entire Bloody Battlefield fell deathly silent.

  Tantai Xuan, Jiang Li—everyone stared in stunned awe at the lone figure standing tall.

  One man.

  One slash that shook the heavens.

  Slew the dragon.

  Bathed in dragon blood.