At this gathering of outstanding talents from the younger generation, every single person rose to their feet, hearts full of anticipation for the battle to come.
The Golden-Winged Little Peng King was like a demonic god incarnate — many among the younger generation feared him greatly, and very few dared to engage him in open battle. Yet now he was about to clash with the End-Stage Holy Physique.
Ye Fan’s “life was nearly spent,” his final days upon him, and yet his might was at its full peak. If he were to fall to the Dao wound just like that, it would be a rather anticlimactic end.
Now, he was about to clash with the Golden-Winged Little Peng King in what would most likely be his final battle — a fitting, definitive conclusion, and regardless of victory or defeat, it would stand as the ultimate showdown.
“That bird-man is far too arrogant. He truly deserves to have his tendons ripped out and his bones split!” The Black Emperor bared its teeth.
“And I won’t be letting you off either, you dog!” The Golden-Winged Little Peng King’s gaze swept over with icy coldness.
“I hope your methods are as strong as your words.” Ye Fan’s lips curved in a cold, detached smile.
“Rest assured. I will personally sever your path of life and extinguish your soul.” The Golden-Winged Little Peng King’s gaze was filled with naked aggression.
Ye Fan stared at him steadily and said nothing more — now there was only one thing left to do: fight.
“All friends present, please come and watch!” The Golden-Winged Little Peng King sent a cold smile sweeping across the gathered Holy Sons and Holy Daughters and transmitted his voice to them.
“A battle of world-shaking significance like this — how could we miss it? We shall all attend.” Holy Son Yao Guang nodded.
Even Feng Huang broke into a faint smile. She walked forward gracefully and said, “I look forward to this battle!”
Zhao Fa laughed aloud. “I can’t wait!”
“Then let us go. Today I end the Holy Physique’s life and offer his sacred blood for all friends here to taste!” The Golden-Winged Little Peng King’s hair flew in wild disarray, his demonic nature and killing intent laid bare in full.
“Then let us fight!” Ye Fan had only those four words. He was the first to rise into the air — like a divine being incarnate — and flew toward the area beyond the eight hundred divine islands.
This group of individuals, each an heir of a supreme great sect, no few of them Holy Sons and Holy Daughters, could not help but attract attention. Many eyes followed them, and the movement drew the notice of a number of elder-generation figures as well.
Their speed was tremendous, and before long they had flown clear of the eight hundred divine islands, shooting off toward a densely lush mountain range in the distance — a decisive confrontation within the Wind Clan’s sacred territory was out of the question.
It was now midday, the blazing sun like a furnace suspended overhead, pouring down scalding radiance, its fierce beams scorching the earth below.
They flew a full five hundred-plus li from the Wind Clan’s divine islands before they halted. Below stretched endless towering mountains, countless valleys, ravines rising and falling across the terrain — a completely primordial stretch of wilderness.
The sky above was filled with cultivators standing in place, every gaze fixed on the two central figures. This was the battle everyone had been waiting for — two of the most supreme young powerhouses, long in conflict, finally erupting today.
The Golden-Winged Little Peng King’s name had long resounded throughout the younger generation. He was a wildly extraordinary demon clan prodigy, and everyone knew of his immense power. Before the Great Desolation Halberd, no hero dared to oppose him.
Ye Fan had become known throughout the world only within the past year — he had been little known before that, seemingly erupting into prominence out of nowhere, yet he was extraordinarily powerful. Since his emergence into the world, everything he had done had left a tremendous impact, and with a momentum that suggested he would surpass all who came before him, there was no one among the younger generation who hadn’t heard his name.
Sunlight cascaded downward. The Golden-Winged Little Peng King was as though cast from solid gold, blazing with brilliant golden radiance. His golden hair was magnificent beyond words, forcing those who looked upon it to shield their eyes.
His pupils were bone-chillingly cold and savagely wild — like two bolts of lightning launched from the depths of hell, boring into people’s very souls, devouring their minds, a sea of killing intent.
In his hand appeared a golden Holy Sword of incomparable enormity — dozens of zhang in length, its tip hanging low, nearly grazing the summit of a great mountain below — exhaling a killing aura that sent fallen leaves swirling and withering throughout the endless mountain range.
On the other side, Ye Fan stood poised and still in the void. His dark hair swayed gently, his eyes bright and clear, utterly motionless, watching his opponent with composure and calm.
Unseen killing intent surged between the two of them. Even before the battle had begun, it was enough to plunge onlookers into the feeling of falling into an ice cave — body and soul both gone cold. Powerful battle intent and terrifying killing aura radiated outward in waves.
Crack!
Below, one great mountain could no longer endure the pressure. Its summit fissured, cleaved apart by the terrifying killing intent pressing down upon it — several great cracks opened, a terrifying sight to behold.
Boom!
A second mountain peak: several boulders of ten thousand-jun weight burst apart, then the summit itself collapsed. Rubble tore through the air, dust and smoke billowed up, the sky gone dark with haze.
All of this was caused by the power of their killing intent. Had anyone entered the field between them, they would certainly have been crushed into pulp. The clash of killing intent was the most terrifying thing of all — a single brush with it, and body and soul alike would perish.
Within the endless mountains, countless wild beasts were thrown into terror, fleeing in all directions in utter chaos. Many fierce creatures were so frightened they prostrated themselves on the ground, unable to stop trembling.
Flutter, flutter!
Countless birds shot up into the sky, desperate to flee this dreadful place — but the moment they burst into the air above, they exploded instantly, transformed into flowers of blood.
Annihilated on the spot — body and soul alike, nothing left behind. Only bloodmist lingered, swirling through the air. Killing intent had become a blade, extinguishing every living thing it touched. Any who entered perished without exception.
“These two are truly fearsome. Their battle intent has reached such a level — though no strike has yet been made, it is as though the battle has already begun!”
“Among the younger generation, those who can match them are truly few…”
Just then, the Golden-Winged Little Peng King moved. He let out a clear, ringing cry, and the great mountains shook and trembled. The ten thousand trees swayed. Withered leaves rained down. The entire expanse of mountain range was suffused with desolate killing energy.
“Ten Thousand Eight Hundred Swords!”
The Golden-Winged Little Peng King opened with an absolute killing art. His entire body blazed with golden light, releasing a blinding brilliance. Thousands upon thousands of terrifying golden sword rays shot out.
Killing energy soared into the clouds. Heaven and earth trembled. Countless Holy Swords struck out in unison, shattering the void, as though the pillars of heaven and earth were on the verge of collapse — withering all before them.
Boom!
Exactly ten thousand eight hundred Holy Swords, each dozens of zhang in length, stood upright in the void — then fell in a single simultaneous slash downward.
This was no longer sword radiance — it had become an ocean of Holy Swords. A golden, terrifying storm swallowed everything in its path, sweeping forward, destroying every last obstacle before it.
This was the supreme divine art inherent to the Heaven Peng clan, born with them from their very origins. Even against ten thousand soldiers and a thousand horses, it could sweep all before it — an indiscriminate killing assault.
To say nothing of the fact that all of it was directed at a single person — the might of this was simply beyond imagining. It was like the end of the world arriving, heaven and earth shattering in collapse.
Ten thousand eight hundred Holy Swords, the sword radiance they exhaled transforming into an ocean, swallowing all, sweeping across all, wielding a divine might of a hundred million-jun!
Boom!
Each sword ray was like a flooding river sweeping all before it — utterly horrifying. Those watching from afar felt chilled from head to foot. The Golden-Winged Little Peng King was this powerful — how could one fight back against this?
He alone was equal to a thousand soldiers and ten thousand horses. With this kind of world-shaking divine might, how many among the younger generation could receive it? Even Holy Son-level figures would most likely meet their end here!
Ye Fan’s heart was resolute. He had once faced the Ten Thousand Eight Hundred Swords supreme divine art in the past — back then he had used the Myriad Object Mother Qi Cauldron as defense and the terrifying black flames of the Departure Fire Divine Furnace to extinguish them. Without those, he would have had no way to break through at that time.
Now he faced it once more, yet he had lost both the Myriad Object Mother Qi Cauldron and the Departure Fire Divine Furnace. He could only rely on himself!
Boom!
From within his wheel sea, lightning flashed and thunder rolled. An endless golden ocean surged out, submerging him — blocking the world of swords from outside!
Crack!
A primal breath from the beginning of heaven and earth spread outward. Above the golden bitter sea, endless lightning bolts danced and swirled, enveloping Ye Fan — as though the heavens themselves were being opened and the earth first divided.
He stood holding a green lotus, robes swaying, calmly facing the Ten Thousand Eight Hundred Holy Swords, using his own body to block this supreme divine art capable of killing Holy Sons.
“Ahh—!” The Golden-Winged Little Peng King let out a long howl. His golden hair blazed as though on fire. He surged his cultivation power like a flood tide and pressed forward to kill.
His gaze was like a heavenly sword, piercing through the void. Like a demonic god, he was irresistibly powerful, his Holy Sword — condensed from the Heaven Peng clan’s own sacred blood as an immortal offering, declared to be undying and imperishable — raised and brought slashing down.
“Ye Fan, I will sever your living soul!”
A peng’s cry split the heavens. He drove the Holy Sword downward in a direct slash, his vital blood roaring skyward, his war cry shaking the mountains and rivers, the endless mountain ranges all swaying in response.
Clang, clang, clang…
The Ten Thousand Eight Hundred Swords slashed into the golden bitter sea and were transformed — each one becoming a golden Heavenly Peng, tearing asunder heaven and earth, striking to kill Ye Fan. This was the supreme offensive in its ultimate form.
The crowd was thunderstruck. The Golden-Winged Little Peng King truly possessed the skill to look down upon the younger generation — he had actually driven his Holy Sword into the Holy Physique’s divine phenomenon of the bitter sea. What a devastatingly sharp and powerful attack!
Ten thousand eight hundred Heavenly Peng, blanketing the sky, every one of them as though cast from pure gold, each one ferocious and incomparably divine in combat prowess. Wings that could split heaven and earth, claws that could shatter the void.
A supremely powerful offensive — divine pengs rampaged through the golden bitter sea, their peng cries resounding one after another, threatening to collapse the canopy of heaven. The sound alone was enough to shatter the will of those who heard it.
Any other opponent would certainly have died. Had this many golden divine pengs closed in to such proximity, resistance would have been utterly futile. But Ye Fan was different — a cold smile tugged at the corner of his lips.
“I will kill you into despair!”
He stood holding a green lotus, his entire body shrouded in electric light, his golden blood energy roaring skyward. With a thunderous boom, he used the golden bitter sea to seal off this entire expanse of sky.
Then, Ye Fan moved like lightning — holding the green lotus, he began to cut down the endless golden Heavenly Peng!
The green lotus was like verdant mist in Ye Fan’s hands, suffusing his surroundings with a hazy, dreamlike light. As he swept it through the air, trails of green shadow followed — yet it was devastatingly fearsome, cutting down every living creature it touched.
Ye Fan’s speed was astonishing. He struck without mercy, the green lotus sharp as a blade — he split a Heavenly Peng open in a single pass, blood spattering in all directions, and moved on without pause to the next target.
Thud, thud…
Green lotus in hand, he cut and cleaved without ceasing. Heavenly Peng heads fell in an unbroken stream. One massive Heavenly Peng corpse after another plummeted down from the sky.
This was real blood — blood that had been sacrificed through the Golden-Winged Little Peng King’s own Holy Sword, transformed into the undying Ten Thousand Eight Hundred Swords. Yet now, they were being slaughtered by Ye Fan one after another.
“The Holy Physique’s bitter sea is golden — utterly unlike anyone else’s. It can manifest into an invincible defensive phenomenon…” Many in the distance were left reeling with admiration.
“Ahh—!” The Golden-Winged Little Peng King let out a long howl. His imposing form shattered the sky beneath his feet, golden surging energy waves shooting skyward — like a demonic sage reborn!
He drove the main body of his golden Holy Sword in attack and launched his most ferocious offensive yet. Every Heavenly Peng trapped within the golden bitter sea began to screech in unison, blazing with flames — transforming into boundless killing light!
Yet within the divine phenomenon of the golden bitter sea, Ye Fan was an absolute sovereign. Lightning coiled around him, as though he were creating a world anew.
He could not be shaken. Not a single golden Heavenly Peng could approach him. He cut them down in an unbroken stream — one strike, one corpse. One strike, one spray of blood mist.
One could see it clearly: one Heavenly Peng corpse after another crashed down, falling into the golden bitter sea, cut and killed without cease.
“Excellent! These divine pengs were nurtured by that bird-man through his own vital blood within the Holy Sword. Though they are said to never perish, being cut down like this will damage his fundamental vitality!” The Black Emperor called out.
The golden bitter sea had been stained red with blood, floating with countless Heavenly Peng corpses — a scene of utter carnage and desolation.
Ye Fan’s gaze was cold as a blade — like a revenant of the asura realm reborn, his dark hair a wild tangle, green lotus in hand dripping with blood, slaughtering without mercy. All ten thousand eight hundred Heavenly Pengs had been cut down by him.
Boom!
One final surge — the golden bitter sea roiled. Ye Fan stood holding the green lotus, his robes unstained by blood, composed and serene, like a divine being holding a flower in contemplation. He called out, “What else do you have? Bring it all — today I will cut you down to the last!”
From far away, the crowd was shaken to their core. Ten Thousand Eight Hundred Swords used simultaneously could kill Holy Sons — yet every last one of them had been cut down by Ye Fan, the Heaven Peng’s vital blood entirely spent!
Holy Son Yao Guang’s expression remained composed on the surface, yet inwardly he felt a measure of stirring. His pupils grew ever deeper.
Feng Huang was genuinely astonished. She had not expected Ye Fan’s methods to be so staggeringly powerful — to break through the Ten Thousand Eight Hundred Swords in such a manner.
The Holy Son of the Purple Court and Zhao Fa both had expressions that had grown rather rigid. They asked themselves honestly: they could not cut down ten thousand eight hundred divine pengs like that. Their hearts trembled.
The Golden-Winged Little Peng King’s hair was disheveled, his gaze sharp as a blade pressing down on all around him. His bloodlust and savage nature were now displayed without restraint. In a cold voice he said, “I have ways to destroy you!”