The High Priest of the Witch God Sect gazed at the approaching white-robed figure. Within his pupils, spiritual light flickered as he used divine sight to pierce through Chen Sanshi's cultivation.
First Stage of the Martial Path—Mortal Shedding Perfection.
According to earlier reports, this man had only reached the Middle Stage of Mortal Shedding, yet in such a short time, he had already broken through to Late Stage. Even among martial cultivators of the Immortal Path, this kind of progress was terrifying.
Fortunately, he had not reached the Second Stage.
Which meant—
He was still only equivalent to a Middle-Stage Qi Refinement cultivator. Not an opponent the High Priest feared.
Realizing this, the High Priest finally allowed himself a quiet breath of relief.
Until now, he had been forced to maintain the formation and could not leave the altar's three-zhang radius. Otherwise, he would have acted long ago.
But now that his prey had come straight to his door—there was no need for restraint.
As Chen Sanshi drew closer to the altar, the High Priest's brow flared. A blood-red mark appeared between his eyebrows, glowing faintly before a red light shot out from it and hovered before him, releasing waves of powerful spiritual energy.
It was a dagger—
But not made of metal.
It was carved from pale bone, cold and sharp, the surface engraved with ancient symbols resembling curling vines.
One after another, the runes lit up, until the entire bone dagger blazed with crimson brilliance. It hummed with killing intent so intense that even the Great Khans watching from afar could feel the chill seep into their bones.
This bone dagger—
Was the High Priest's life-bound magical weapon.
Killing one Mortal Shedding cultivator was more than effortless!
The High Priest narrowed his eyes, began forming seals with both hands, and muttered an incantation.
Eighty steps!
Sixty steps!
Chen Sanshi's speed soared. From a sprint to a blur, from a blur to a streak of light. Each step he took, his Unmatched Battle Will climbed another level, and his true qi thickened even further.
Vajra Body. Primordial Protective Qi. True Dragon Force—
All of them surged to the absolute limit!
The white robe flashed through the snowstorm. Chen Sanshi leapt high before the altar, merging completely with his Liquan Spear. Qi roared from his body, scattering the layers of black mist and tearing through the surging red light.
From the heavens, a True Dragon descended.
In that instant—
Time itself seemed to slow.
He was so close—just a little more!
Only one final step!
In the cultivation world, every breakthrough between realms took years—sometimes decades—of accumulation. If crossing realms to kill were that easy, what meaning would there be in years of bitter training?
Even though immortal cultivators had frail bodies, their killing spells were as deadly as any martial strike.
Chen Sanshi's qi, battle will, and spirit had already climbed to terrifying heights—layer upon layer of slaughter and rage—but he still lacked that final thread to bridge the gap.
Meanwhile, atop the altar, the High Priest completed his seal.
The bone dagger flared into a blood-red meteor, screaming through the air toward the oncoming dragon.
At that moment—
The red meteor's power was still slightly stronger than the True Dragon's qi.
But just as their forces were about to collide—
"Hongze Battalion!"
"Great Snow Dragon Cavalry!"
"Assist the formation—!"
A thunderous shout rolled across the mountain.
Wang Zhi, mounted on his Black Wind Horse, led the last of the Hongze Battalion's soldiers up the Yin Mountain Range, charging straight toward the summit of Wolf Juxu Mountain in formation.
Within the formation—
The position of the Dragon's Head—
Returned to the man in white.
Threads of white profound qi surged through the soldiers and converged upon Chen Sanshi.
The Heavenly Book's formation empowered every soldier within it. Each gain was slight, but real.
And Chen Sanshi—being the Dragon's Head and the core of the array—received its full blessing.
As the profound qi enveloped him, the dragon formed from his Liquan Spear was coated in frost. Its radiance grew sharper, its qi erupting in a surge so immense that—at last—it surpassed the crimson meteor and the bone dagger's deadly power.
In the High Priest's eyes, a vision unfolded—
The True Dragon devoured the falling star.
Then, in the next heartbeat, the dragon's shadow filled his entire sight—swallowing sky, earth, and everything in between.
Far away, in Youzhou, another battle raged.
After the Ancient Demon Clan cultivator Wen Ji personally took the field, Lü Ji and his men could no longer advance even half a step.
The altar was right before them—yet it might as well have been across the heavens.
Another clash erupted.
Lü Ji was blasted backward, his body slamming into the earth. Blood streamed from the corner of his mouth as he dropped to one knee, chest heaving. He exhaled sharply, and a spray of blood mist burst from his nose and lips. Even the hand gripping his Fangtian halberd trembled uncontrollably.
"Boom—!"
Pei Tiannan and Fan Hailing were also struck down, both heavily wounded under the combined siege of Martial Saints and cultivators.
"Cough, cough—"
Fan Hailing lay sprawled on the ground, dragging himself toward his fallen mo blade. Each inch forward sent blood spilling from his mouth. Just as his fingertips brushed the weapon, a barbarian Martial Saint stepped up and kicked him aside like a ball.
Pei Tiannan, bleeding from countless wounds, leaned weakly against a tree trunk—utterly spent.
Before him—
Two barbarian Martial Saints advanced with raised blades.
"Ha... ha..."
Third Senior Brother Nie Yuan had arrows protruding from his chest, his breathing shallow, barely alive.
"Third Brother!"
Seeing this, Lü Ji somehow found strength again. He roared and charged to save him.
But a red light shot from the sky—
And slammed him to the ground once more.
Above, the demonic cultivator Wen Ji withdrew his flying sword, his tone cold as ice. "Better worry about yourself first."
As he spoke, the sword before him split into two.
Two became four.
Four became eight.
Eight scarlet lights spread out across the mountain, locking onto every survivor below.
"Demon!"
Lü Ji's voice trembled with fury. Watching his brothers broken and bleeding—Fan Hailing, Pei Tiannan, Nie Yuan—and the countless corpses of the Liangzhou soldiers, grief and rage flooded his chest like a bursting dam.
He could feel it—
The scorn these so-called cultivators held for him.
In their eyes, they were gods. Everyone else—mere ants.
All because—
They were stronger.
This world—
Was always the same.
Only the strong could look down on all beings.
The weak could only kneel.
As that truth burned through his mind, Lü Ji raised his head, his eyes bloodshot, a single thought blazing within him.
Then I'll become stronger.
Purple qi surged around him.
A sheepskin scroll appeared, floating before him.
"Senior Brother…"
Nie Yuan, half-conscious, saw it and tried to speak, but no sound came out.
From the scroll, faint whispers began to echo—
Indistinct, ancient, and terrible.
No one could make out the words.
Lü Ji had made up his mind.
A heavy, chilling black-purple aura began to rise from his body like storm clouds twisting through the air.
The demonic cultivator Wen Ji of the Ancient Demon Clan naturally would not sit idly by. The moment he sensed Lü Ji invoking a spiritual connection, he struck.
But—it was already too late.
The black-purple qi surged violently, lifting Lü Ji's body slowly into the air. Before him, a divine shrine appeared out of thin air.
The shrine dissolved—
Transforming into countless wisps of violet light that poured through Lü Ji's crown into his body.
When he opened his eyes again, his expression was no longer human. His face was part god, part demon. His voice, when he spoke, carried two tones overlapping into one, echoing with divine dominance:
"Little demon of the Ancient Clan—how dare you not kneel before this seat?!"
"Impressive courage!"
Wen Ji frowned, the mocking calm on his face replaced by wary tension. "You dare borrow power from such an evil god? Aren't you afraid you won't be able to repay that debt?"
"If you won't kneel—then I'll take your life!"
The Fangtian halberd in Lü Ji's hands erupted in black-violet flames. The shattered fragments of his old incense burner burst into glowing purple fire, flying up to clash with the oncoming storm of flying swords.
The collision was thunderous.
The phantom swords shattered one after another, even the true sword among them losing control and embedding itself into a nearby tree trunk.
Unable to dodge in time, Wen Ji hastily summoned a black shield-shaped magical weapon before him.
With a deafening crash, the halberd's force struck the shield. The impact didn't break it—but the violet flames did.
Wen Ji was forced to cast another spell, forming a barrier of light around him. It blocked the first few fireballs but cracked almost immediately. Four massive blasts of violet flame struck his body, throwing him deep into the earth.
The demonic cultivator was smashed into a crater, blood spilling from his mouth.
But Lü Ji didn't pursue.
He soared into the air, heading straight toward the altar.
There was no time left!
The Blood Sacrifice Formation had already reached its final stage.
How much time remained?
Half a cup of tea?
Ten breaths?
Maybe only a few?
Lü Ji didn't bother to count. He poured all his strength into flying faster.
"Stop him!"
"Just one last breath—don't let him break through!"
"Cough…"
Wen Ji didn't rise. Instead, coughing blood, he began casting again, wings of demonic qi unfurling from his back as he took flight.
The other cultivators and Martial Saints also threw themselves forward, chasing with all they had left.
Through Lü Ji's fading vision, the Luotian Mountains ahead were almost completely covered in blood mist. Only a single narrow gap—a sliver of life—remained.
Wen Ji and the others were closing in fast.
Without hesitation, Lü Ji hurled his halberd, wrapped in purple flame, transforming it into a dragon-elephant-shaped demonic beast that roared toward the altar. Behind it followed all the shattered incense fragments. Lü Ji himself charged back toward his pursuers bare-handed to block them.
Above the altar, the auxiliary array core was already running at full overload.
The spirit stones, foul stones, and vajra pestles filled with blood essence embedded in the structure were burning out at impossible speed.
Then the dragon-elephant beast fell—carrying the violet fire down upon the altar.
"Boom—!!!"
The altar shattered.
The auxiliary formation cracked apart.
With the node controlling vitality destroyed, something began to change.
From the direction of Liangzhou, between heaven and earth—
A rift appeared within the endless sea of blood mist.
A thin line of heaven and earth—
A line of survival!
"Master!"
Lü Ji turned, wanting to rush toward Liangzhou through that sliver of light.
But the gate of life, bought with so much blood and sacrifice, lasted less than two breaths before the blood mist surged and devoured it again.
"Ahhh!!!"
Lü Ji's scream tore through the air, hoarse and furious.
He had failed?
"Hahahahaha—!"
A wild laugh answered him.
The wounded Wen Ji, sprawled on the ground, was laughing hysterically through blood-stained lips.
"Too late!"
"It's all too late!"
"The Blood Sacrifice Formation is complete! The auxiliary eye has already served its purpose!"
"With life extinguished, what use is a path of life?"
"Did you fools not realize—this place was only an auxiliary node all along?!"
"Boom—!!!"
Another explosion resounded.
But this time, Wen Ji's grin froze solid.
In Liangzhou, the blood mist had fully swallowed the world.
It no longer hovered—it descended.
From several zhang above the ground, it began sinking lower and lower, smothering everything beneath it.
Soon, it reached the tops of men's heads.
"Ahhhh—!!"
At the city gates, a few commoners touched by the mist screamed as their bodies melted into pools of blood.
"Demons!"
"Demons are eating people alive!"
In their eyes, the blood mist was filled with giant gaping mouths. Just brushing a fingertip against it was enough to drag one's whole body into dissolution.
Panic spread.
People threw themselves to the ground, trembling. No one dared stand.
But it didn't matter.
The mist still descended.
Nine chi.
Seven chi.
Five chi.
"Sister!"
Sun Buqi shoved through the chaos, finding Sun Li amid the crowd.
Beside her were Chen Yunxi, Siqin, Mohua, and the maids and attendants.
Moments later, two more figures appeared—Ningxiang and Zhao Zhao.
Ningxiang's wide sleeves fluttered as she raised her slender hands, casting a spell. A silver ring expanded above them, attempting to shield the group.
But when it touched the mist—it shattered instantly and rebounded, throwing her back.
She staggered, a thread of blood slipping from her lips.
"Master!"
Zhao Zhao caught her quickly. "Are you okay? Please, don't scare me…"
Ningxiang forced a pale smile. "It doesn't matter if I'm hurt. We're all about to become blood anyway."
Sun Li said nothing.
She only held Chen Yunxi tight, covering her eyes with trembling hands.
"Hide underground!"
Someone in the crowd shouted the desperate suggestion.
People scrambled—into cellars, into rivers, even throwing themselves into wells.
But moments later—
Shrill screams echoed from below.
The Blood Sacrifice Formation wasn't only in the sky.
It was underground too.
They were trapped inside the jaws of a massive beast slowly closing around them.
There was no escape.
Not for the commoners.
Not even for the soldiers.
The Liangzhou Army, gathered in the city, trembled in horror.
The Grand Commander…
Even the Emperor himself…
Both trapped inside.
No word from the outside armies. No one left to turn the tide.
No one left to save them.
The tragedy was not that they died on the battlefield—
But that they were being slaughtered by this inhuman sorcery.
"Your Highness! Get down!"
The Sixth Prince, Cao Huan, was tackled to the ground by terrified eunuchs.
He struggled, shouting, "Let me go! I have to find the scouts—get word to Lü General! He can still make it!"
More than ten years.
He had been imprisoned in the capital for over ten years.
He had only just returned to court—and now this.
How could he accept dying like this?
"Your Highness—!"
The eunuchs pinned Cao Huan to the ground, their voices trembling. "Two days ago, when the thick fog expanded, we already lost contact with the outside world! If General Lü and his men could've succeeded—they would've done so long ago…"
Before he could finish—
From the eastern side of the Luotian Mountain Range, within the overwhelming mist, a crack suddenly split open.
"The Gate of Life!"
"It's General Lü!"
"It's Youzhou's army!"
Cao Huan's pupils widened in disbelief. "It's General Lü! Youzhou… has triumphed—"
But before he could finish, the gate that had just opened—closed again.
That single moment—
Became the final straw crushing the last hope of millions of living beings.
Everyone—
Fell into an abyss of despair and frozen silence.
This was it. Their last few breaths in this world.
In the Luotian Mountains, Emperor Longqing watched the gate open and close with his own eyes. Even he had to abandon the thought of escaping.
Inside the defensive barrier, the High Priest of the Witch God Sect and Immortal Master Deng stared at the scene—both excited and terrified.
Excited, because the grand formation was about to succeed.
Terrified, because they too could not escape.
They would die together—turning into blood like everyone else.
"You damned fools!"
Immortal Master Deng's voice broke into hysterics. "You were given a chance to live, and you refused it! Fine then—fine! We'll all die together! We'll all become nourishment for the revival of my Ancient Demon Clan!"
"Damn your ancestors!"
Wen Zhi cursed furiously, bending low as he hacked away at the barrier with both blades.
"Zizhan, you see it too. There's no time left."
Emperor Longqing stepped beside Sun Xiangzong, urging him in a low, tense voice.
"If you still won't hand it over, even if I make it out alive, I won't be able to seal the Foul Veins! Do you really have the heart to watch all living beings in this world fall to the butchery of the Ancient Demon Clan?"
He looked up at the blood mist pressing down from the heavens. The Longyuan Sword in his arms trembled violently, humming as if crying out. "Stop hesitating. I mean what I say."
"Cough… cough…"
Sun Xiangzong coughed heavily, pulling out a small bead. His voice was hoarse and weak. "Just infuse it with spiritual power—it will form a sealing array. But after the Foul Veins awaken, it won't be as easy as before. You'll have to go to the cultivation world yourself, find the orthodox sects, and beg them to help."
"I understand."
Emperor Longqing's eyes flicked to the ring on Sun Xiangzong's hand. "Zizhan, do you want me to try? Maybe I can take you with me."
"If you wish to act, then do so. Why waste time talking?"
After speaking, Sun Xiangzong closed his eyes, standing motionless amidst the endless red mist, waiting quietly for the end.
"No matter what you say, whether you admit it or not, I see you as a brother. I won't force you."
Emperor Longqing finally looked away.
He gripped the Longyuan Sword tightly.
From it, a strange, indescribable profound qi erupted outward.
Just as the boundless blood mist began to descend, and he raised the sword to strike—
The heavens and earth changed!
"Ahhh—!"
"Wuwuwu—!"
"My son! I couldn't afford your schooling, so I let you farm instead! Don't hate me, my boy…"
"Daughter! Close your eyes!"
"My wife, I'll marry you again in my next life!"
"I'll get rich! Next life, I'll still get rich!"
"Master, your disciple failed—failed to avenge you!"
"Ah Jie…"
In a stable, Su Can sat clutching his knees. "Seems like… I won't ever get the chance to join the army after all."
Everywhere across Liangzhou, countless families and friends whispered their final farewells.
But then—
The blood mist stopped.
It halted mid-air—just above the heads of those sitting hopelessly on the ground. It did not descend further.
"This…"
"What's happening?"
After three breaths, the mist not only stopped—
It began to recede.
As if time itself had reversed.
The crimson canopy of the heavens rose higher and higher—
Seven chi.
One zhang.
Ten zhang.
One hundred zhang.
One thousand zhang.
Until it returned to ten thousand zhang high, then spun into a massive vortex that sucked the entire blood sea back into the sky.
Finally, that vortex folded inward—collapsing into a blood-red waterfall that poured straight back into the altar deep within the Luotian Mountains.
Everything—
Stopped.
When people finally raised their heads again, the sky before them was faintly hazy but clean. It was the hour of Mao, dawn's first light shimmering faintly in the east. Soon, the sun would rise—warm, red, and full of life.
If not for the masses of citizens still fleeing in panic into the hills—proof that a great calamity had just taken place—one might almost believe it had all been a nightmare.
"This…"
"We're… saved?!"
"Heaven has opened its eyes! Heaven has shown mercy!"
"Yes!"
"It must be the immortals above!"
"The immortals couldn't stand to see us perish, so they saved us!"
"Hurry—kneel, everyone, kneel and give thanks!"
"Not immortals."
A soft, childish voice came from within the crowd. It was Chen Yunxi, speaking faintly: "It was my father."
"Your father?"
A few nearby townsfolk turned toward her. "Little girl, what nonsense are you saying? It was clearly an immortal! Who's your father, then?"
"My father's surname is Chen. His name is Sanshi."
Chen Yunxi spoke clearly.
"Xixi… what did you say?"
Sun Li turned to her, stunned. "How do you know it was… my junior brother?"
"Xixi can feel it," she whispered.
"That's right!"
Sun Buqi suddenly shouted, realization striking him like lightning. "I remember now! Sanshi was out there leading his troops—Hongze Battalion, it was Hongze Battalion! That gate of life that opened and closed—it was Senior Brother! It was Sanshi's battalion that destroyed the Blood Sacrifice Formation!"
"He did it! Sanshi did it!"
"He succeeded!"
Across the camp, disheveled and wide-eyed, Cao Huan and the generals who had just witnessed the miracle looked at each other in disbelief.
After a long silence, Cao Huan finally spoke, voice trembling. "That… that was—?"
"General Chen," one of the officers said firmly. "It could only be General Chen!"
Cold sweat ran down Zhao Wuji's forehead as he steadied his breathing. "Only General Chen could've destroyed the main formation core hidden beneath Yin Mountain. That's the only way the Blood Sacrifice Formation could've been stopped at the final moment!"
"Looks like…"
Fang Qingyun exhaled slowly. "General Chen won."
"Yin Mountain?"
Supported by his eunuchs, Cao Huan rose shakily to his feet. "You mean—General Chen, at the Profound Manifestation realm, led the Hongze Battalion—just over ten thousand men—northward after winning the Battle of the Agate River… and then conquered Wolf Juxu Mountain?!
"There were at least five Martial Saints stationed there!
"And over one hundred thousand troops!
"Not to mention those Witch God Sect heretics!
"I'm not doubting General Chen's ability, but on paper, how is that even possible?"
"Maybe…"
Second Senior Brother Cheng Wei spoke softly. "Maybe my junior brother broke through—to the Martial Saint realm."
"Broke through to Martial Saint?"
Cao Huan's brows furrowed. "How long has it been since he reached Profound Manifestation? Do you know how many people spend their entire lives stuck at Profound Manifestation Perfection? And you're telling me he advanced to Martial Saint in just two months?!
"Even if he did, the barbarian capital still had five Martial Saints!"
"Or maybe…"
Zhao Wuji reasoned, "Their own formation malfunctioned. Perhaps something went wrong with the ritual itself, causing the array to collapse."
In truth—
Compared to believing it was Chen Sanshi's doing, everyone found this theory far more believable.
Because one man, even with a few thousand soldiers, destroying the main formation core was nearly impossible.
"Either way, it seems the crisis in Liangzhou is over," Cheng Wei said. "As for General Chen's whereabouts, we'll surely have an answer soon."
In the Luotian Mountains, Shao Yuqing and Wen Zhi had long been ready to die.
Then they witnessed what no one thought possible.
"Impossible!"
Inside the barrier, Immortal Master Deng's eyes bulged in disbelief. "How could this happen?! Yiled! Why aren't you investigating?! What the hell are your men doing?!"
The Witch God Sect's High Priest Yiled immediately pulled out a transmission talisman, trying to contact the Grand High Priest.
But the only response—was silence.
"How can that be?"
Yiled's face went pale with confusion. "Impossible! Don't tell me… the talisman's broken?!"
"Your Majesty!"
Barely alive, Hou Bao wept with joy. "Heaven bless Your Majesty! Heaven bless the Great Sheng Dynasty!"
Emperor Longqing, who had been a mere breath away from unleashing the Longyuan Sword, stood still, watching the heavens shift. He did not act rashly.
In the reflection of Sun Xiangzong's aged eyes flickered a faint smile of relief.
"Heh… seems the last disciple this old man ever took has become the greatest merit of my entire life."
"You mean—"
Emperor Longqing paused. "Chen Sanshi did this?"
"Whether it's him or not, you'll know soon enough."
Supporting himself against a tree, Sun Xiangzong rose to his feet. "The Blood Sacrifice Formation is broken. Shouldn't you hurry and seal the Foul Veins?"
In Youzhou, the heavily injured Lü Ji had collapsed to one knee. When the Gate of Life he had struggled so hard to open shut again, despair consumed him—
But then he saw it.
The Blood Sacrifice Formation—had stopped.
The skies over Liangzhou cleared, the land restored to light.
"What… how could this be?!"
The demonic cultivators of the Ancient Demon Clan turned deathly pale.
The failure of the Blood Sacrifice Formation meant there weren't enough lives sacrificed to awaken the Foul Veins. All their plans—ruined.
"Damn it!"
Wen Ji clenched his teeth. "It's the main formation core at Wolf Juxu Mountain!"
"Useless!"
"All of them—trash!"
"Wolf Juxu Mountain is ten thousand li from here! And weren't they only dealing with a mid-stage Mortal Shedding martial artist?! Even if he broke through to the late stage, how could he have touched the grand formation?!"
"My junior brother…?"
Lü Ji knelt, blood dripping from his chin as he listened to their furious shouting.
And suddenly—he understood.
What he failed to do—
Chen Sanshi had done.
A strange, mocking laughter echoed in his mind. Lü Ji shook his head, forcing himself to stay conscious.
"The Blood Sacrifice Formation is destroyed—what do we do now?"
The demonic cultivators exchanged uneasy glances.
"Without the formation, the Foul Veins won't awaken for a long time."
"No one knows how long it'll take!"
"Leave!"
Wen Ji made the decision immediately.
If the Foul Veins couldn't revive, there was no point staying in the Eastern Divine Continent any longer.
But rage seethed beneath his calm—years of preparation ruined in an instant.
Yet now was not the time for revenge.
He led several Ancient Demon cultivators into the sky, fleeing north.
"Immortal Master—where are you going?!"
A Martial Saint of the Duan clan, bloodied and staggering, called out as he saw them preparing to leave.
The battlefield had fallen silent.
Both sides—barbarians and human soldiers alike—had stopped fighting, all eyes turned toward the Luotian Mountains.
Even the barbarian troops could tell—the so-called "great plan" had failed.
"Immortal Master, you can't abandon us!"
The Duan clan Martial Saint shouted desperately. "If you leave, the army will collapse! Every soldier will lose heart, and we'll all die!"
"'Heavenly Clan,' you call yourselves? You have no right to that name! A bunch of useless drunks and cowards—get out of my way!"
Wen Ji no longer cared for mortals. He spat a curse and continued flying, dragging the remaining Ancient Demon cultivators with him, determined to flee as far north as possible.
"Demon! You're not getting away!"
From deep within the Luotian Mountains, a powerful aura surged.
A figure in Daoist robes, elegant and ethereal, rose into the sky. His speed far outstripped that of the fleeing demons.
In moments, he blocked their path.
The Longyuan Sword in his hand flared with light as he struck down from above, clashing head-on with Wen Ji in a burst of sword qi and demonic miasma.
"Your Majesty?!"
Lü Ji's eyes widened. His bloodied face twisted with emotion—grief, fury, disbelief—until all that remained was raw killing intent.
Purple qi flared from his body once more.
The Fangtian halberd, still embedded in the altar, flew back into his grip.
With the incense burner magical weapon floating beside him, he launched himself skyward—joining the Emperor in battle.
Within thirty rounds, the duel had reached its peak…
All the Ancient Demon cultivators, including Wen Ji, were slaughtered on the spot.
Afterward, Emperor Longqing took out the spiritual bead and began activating the Annihilation Spirit Array.
Golden formation seals spread across heaven and earth, radiating divine brilliance.
It didn't just seal the Foul Veins—for the barbarian army, it was pure terror.
They had witnessed the Blood Sacrifice Formation fail with their own eyes. They saw the corpse of their so-called "immortal master" plummet from the sky and splatter into mangled flesh before them. Their morale collapsed in moments. None of them had the courage—or will—to fight anymore.
And then—
Reinforcements from the Great Sheng Dynasty finally arrived.
Martial Saint Jiang Yuanbo led the elite Golden Guard, while other Liangzhou Army divisions that had been spread across the northern borders charged in, their battle cries shaking the earth.
For the barbarian tribes, the invasion of Youzhou had always been a gamble—an all-or-nothing assault. They had known they would eventually be trapped between the Liangzhou Army and the imperial reinforcements.
The only reason they dared press forward was because they believed that once the Blood Sacrifice Formation succeeded, the Foul Veins would awaken—and countless Ancient Demon cultivators would descend to aid them.
But now the plan had failed.
Not only did the Foul Veins fail to awaken, they were being permanently sealed beneath the Annihilation Spirit Array.
The barbarian army's fate was sealed—defeat was inevitable.
At Wolf Juxu Mountain, Chen Sanshi pulled his battered Lìquán Spear from the chest of the Witch God Sect's Grand High Priest.
At his feet lay the shattered main formation core.
He'd made it—just in time.
In the final breath before it was too late, he had destroyed the heart of the formation.
Judging from the extinguished runes, everything in Liangzhou should now be safe.
"Wretch!"
"How dare a mere mortal ruin the Ancient Demon Clan's grand plan of ten thousand years?!"
"Rumble—!!"
Before Chen Sanshi, the air twisted violently. A black rift tore open in the void, radiating fury, hatred, and endless killing intent. A hoarse voice echoed from within—dark, wrathful, filled with demonic qi. It was like hearing the screams of evil spirits from the deepest layer of hell.
A seal—that's what it was.
Chen Sanshi understood. The Eastern Divine Continent had always been sealed away.
The voice speaking to him now—had to belong to a cultivator from another world. The true mastermind behind the Blood Sacrifice of Liangzhou.
The being didn't show itself.
But even that voice alone carried such crushing pressure that everyone within hundreds of li trembled with instinctive terror.
"Ant!"
"A mere Mortal Shedding ant dares destroy my clan's ten-thousand-year plan!"
"I'll flay your skin and eat your flesh!"
"I'll slaughter everyone in your Eastern Divine Continent!"
"I'll turn every one of you into medicine for the Ancient Demon Clan!"
"Do you hear me—"
Only one figure, clad in white, stood firm before the black rift.
Holding his twin spears, Chen Sanshi faced the abyss, his voice calm but unyielding.
"You sound exactly like a mangy dog hiding in the sewers—too cowardly to bite, only able to bark from the dark."
"You dare insult me?!"
The voice pierced through his skull again, trembling with rage. "Ant! Do you even know who you're talking to?"
"Ant?"
Chen Sanshi's battle aura surged again. His qi roared like a storm. The boundless energy condensed into his spear, transforming into a dragon of pure true qi. The dragon's roar split the skies as it shot forward like a blazing arc of light—piercing straight into the rift.
"You keep calling me an ant—then come out and kill this 'ant' yourself!
"If you don't dare, then shut that filthy mouth and listen carefully to what I'm about to say.
"I, Chen Sanshi, no matter what world you come from or which realm you crawl out of—if you ever dare invade the Eastern Divine Continent again, I'll make you pay a thousandfold for every drop of blood you spilled here!
"I, Chen Sanshi, could march ten thousand li to destroy your formation here at Wolf Juxu Mountain—one day, I'll cross the worlds themselves to find your lair.
"When that day comes, we'll see who's really the ant.
"Those who offend my continent—no matter how far—they will be slain!"
The spear pierced the rift, unleashing a thunderous resonance that shook the heavens.
Moments later, the rift began to blur—then closed entirely.
"Those who offend my continent, no matter how far, shall be slain?!"
"Hah! A Mortal Shedding warrior dares utter such arrogance—it's laughable!"
"Chen Sanshi, this name—I'll remember it!"
"But Chen Sanshi, you don't even know—the seals of your Eastern Divine Continent are already crumbling. They're breaking everywhere! Let's see how long you can hide behind them, arrogant child!"
The voice faded.
The rift vanished.
Heaven and earth slowly returned to silence.
No… not entirely.
There was still Hongze Battalion.
The ice dragon they had summoned still rampaged through the battlefield.
But without the corruption of the black mist, the barbarian soldiers gradually came to their senses.
And then they saw—
That lone figure in white.
He had already walked through the storm, standing tall upon the mountain's peak.
Behind him lay the bodies of the three Martial Saints of the Heavenly Tribe—kneeling in death.
At his feet was the corpse of the Witch God Sect's Grand High Priest.
It was over.
Completely over.
Their Martial Saints—all dead.
In an instant, panic exploded like wildfire.
The barbarian army—over seventy thousand strong—collapsed into total chaos.
They fled, throwing away their helmets and armor.
They ran, screaming, trampling each other in their madness.
Some slipped off cliffs, their bodies dashed to pulp below. Others were cut down by the Liangzhou Army and Hongze Battalion's standardized long blades.
That day—
Was the end of the barbarian tribes.
From that day forth, for the next hundred years, the image of that white-robed figure would be branded deep into their hearts.
The war raged until dawn the next morning.
Out of the barbarian army's one hundred thousand, fewer than twenty thousand survived.
Not a single Martial Saint remained alive.
The four Great Khans of the barbarian tribes—the supreme leaders of all their clans—arrived together before the white-robed figure, then dropped to their knees.
"General Chen!"
"We… we are willing to surrender! To submit ourselves and our people to the Great Sheng Dynasty!"
That day, they had all witnessed the impossible.
A single man in white—
Slaughtered five Martial Saints!
Cut open a path for his entire army, killing tens of thousands without ever tiring.
And in the end—he struck down the Grand High Priest of the Witch God Sect with a single spear.
What he destroyed was not just a formation core.
He shattered the destiny of their entire race.
With such devastating loss, they knew it would take at least fifty years before the barbarian tribes could even begin to recover.
Other than submission, what path remained?
High above the clouds, the Empress of Great Qing had not departed. The blade of her flying sword still dripped with the blood of an Ancient Demon cultivator.
She gazed quietly at the lone figure on the mountaintop, her eyes unreadable and deep.
In the end, she did not reveal herself.
She turned and rode her sword through the clouds, heading back toward Great Qing.
The red sun rose.
The wind and snow faded.
The vast battlefield lay still—strewn with countless corpses.
Chen Sanshi stood atop Wolf Juxu Mountain, overlooking a hundred li of desolation.
"Sir!"
Zhao Kang, his entire body covered in blood, approached with his broken Hemiaodao in hand to report.
"This battle—
"Our Hongze Battalion killed over eighty thousand enemies, captured more than twenty thousand, and seized countless supplies, cattle, and sheep.
"In short… the entire steppe now belongs to us!"
Chen Sanshi didn't react to the triumph. His voice was calm. "Casualties?"
"Casualties…"
Zhao Kang's voice trembled. "Also… very heavy. From the Battle of the Agate River till now, the total number of our dead exceeds seven thousand, with over two thousand wounded."
When Hongze Battalion set out, they had fifteen thousand soldiers.
Now, fewer than eight thousand remained.
Nearly half their number had fallen.
But considering everything—their long campaign from Tiger Hill, their relentless advance through blizzards and blood, their fights against powerful Martial Saints and devastating celestial anomalies—losing only eight thousand out of fifteen thousand was a miracle unmatched in history.
Yet those eight thousand lives—still built a mountain of corpses.
Standing beside the ruined altar on Wolf Juxu Mountain's peak, Chen Sanshi said nothing for a long time.
"My lord," Xia Cong spoke softly. "The battle's over. We can go down the mountain now."
"Right," added Xiao Zheng. "The barbarian capital is empty. We can use it to rest the troops for a while. Everyone's exhausted—they've given everything."
Chen Sanshi placed a hand on the cracked altar, his gaze sweeping over the endless fields of the dead. His tone was solemn.
"All forces, rest for five days.
"After five days—
"We burn incense and offer sacrifice to Heaven here on Wolf Juxu Mountain."
"What?!"
The nearby barbarian Khans stiffened in shock.
"General Chen!"
Tuoba Hongxin stammered, "T-that… that wouldn't be proper!"
Wolf Juxu Mountain—
It was their birthplace, the symbol of their divine lineage.
To the Heavenly Tribe, it meant everything.
Even more sacred than Ziwei Mountain, the holy peak of the Great Sheng Dynasty.
To hold a Heaven-Sacrificing Rite here… would be the same as declaring before their ancestors that the Heavenly Tribe had fallen.
It was humiliation beyond words.
"Not proper?"
Chen Sanshi sat down on Tuoba's antler-carved throne, looking down coldly at the four kneeling Khans. "Then tell me—what exactly is improper about it?"
"Proper! Proper! It's proper!"
Murong Khan was the first to speak, bowing deeply. "If General Chen wishes to sacrifice to Heaven, then let it be done. Since the Heavenly Tribe has submitted to the Great Sheng Dynasty, Wolf Juxu Mountain is now part of the Great Sheng's territory. What General Chen wishes to do—how could we dare object?"
There was nothing left but submission.
They had no other choice.
Five days later.
Atop the Yin Mountain Range, on Wolf Juxu Mountain, Chen Sanshi led eight thousand surviving soldiers of Hongze Battalion in a grand Heaven-Sacrificing Ceremony.
After that—
A Land-Consecration and Meditation Rite was held within the barbarian capital.
This campaign—
Fifteen thousand Hongze soldiers, under Chen Sanshi's command, drank from frozen rivers, sealed Wolf Juxu Mountain, and consecrated the barbarian capital.
Not long after, the four barbarian divisions abandoned their capital, leading the surviving remnants of their clans north beyond the Yin Mountains.
There, they signed a covenant—swearing never again to set foot on the fertile soil of the Great Sheng Dynasty.
After this battle—
South of the Desert, no more Royal Court remained.