Published: March 8, 2025
CHAPTER 15: Slay All Under Heaven, But Still Not Content; Slaughter Across the Mortal Realm, Not for the Ordinary!
The Dark Demon Emperor Qian Wantong was the first to arrive here, but he was startled into a shudder by a long howl.
At the moment the howl echoed out, Qian Wantong initially sneered: "Damn it, you’re at death's door, what are you howling about?"
But as the howl transformed, an endless killing intent surged forth! Qian Wantong felt the hairs all over his body suddenly stand on end, a chill creeping up his spine, as a refreshing air rose from the base of his tailbone to the Heavenly Spirit, sending a shiver down his back.
He had never heard such a sound before!
Even Meng Chaoran and Tan Tan stared at Chu Yang in astonishment, feeling somewhat at a loss. They both clearly sensed: the current Chu Yang was absolutely not the same as the Chu Yang from just a moment ago!
This feeling was utterly illogical, yet it existed in stark reality.
Chu Yang stood with his back to Meng Chaoran and Tan Tan, hands behind his back, facing Qian Wantong with a cold, disdainful gaze. His face remained unchanged, his body still the same, yet an endless desolation and solemnity surged forth!
It seemed as if this figure had stood alone at the pinnacle of the world for… millions of years!
At this moment, standing here was not Chu Yang, but the Sword Spirit that had stood at the peak for ninety thousand years!
Swish, swish, swish! After that long howl, the Dark Demon followers seemed to have received a summons, flying in from all directions; in an instant, twenty-five people had gathered, without a single one missing.
Chu Yang's face was expressionless as he took a light step forward and asked indifferently with his hands behind his back, “Is this all there is?”
As he spoke, the twenty-five people before him, including the two emperors, suddenly felt a strange sensation: it was as if the sky had collapsed and the earth had shattered right before them!
It felt as if an invisible vortex was dragging their spirits down into the depths, and below them was an unfathomable abyss!
They closed their eyes tightly and shook their heads, reopening them to find a haze before them, snowflakes swirling!
Everything was undoubtedly different from before!
But where did that terrifying feeling come from?
"You little brat, stop pretending!" one of the emperors shouted in anger.
Qian Wantong and Wu Jiang exchanged glances, both seeing uncertainty in each other's eyes: could it be that this young man before them was an unseen great master?
Such a terrifying aura couldn’t possibly be pretended!
Was this really a trap? Impossible… the previous panic was definitely not an act.
Qian Wantong's eyes darted, and he ordered, "Shen Lao San! Go and cripple this kid!"
First, send someone to test the waters. Whether Shen Lao San was going to cripple him or the other way around… that was no longer within his control.
For Qian Wantong, throwing away one life to probe for a way forward was a perfectly reasonable and inconsequential act.
Shen Lao San leaped out, elegantly spinning in the air before drawing his long sword, shouting mid-air, “Draw your sword! I’m here to teach you a lesson!”
“Hmm?!” Chu Yang slowly turned his head, his eyes widening as a terrifying aura burst forth, solidifying and descending upon him!
Shen Lao San, who was just poised in the air with a handsome stance ready to descend, suddenly let out a startled cry, his mind plunging into chaos, as if he had fallen into the endless darkness of hell.
Everything turned black; with a scream, he fell down. Yet, as he fell, for some reason, he ended up kneeling, perfectly positioned in front of Chu Yang.
He trembled all over, his face as pale as a ghost.
“To teach me a lesson…” Chu Yang lifted his head in a somewhat wistful manner, murmuring softly, “I haven’t heard that phrase in a hundred thousand years… how refreshing.”
He appeared completely defenseless, standing there, gazing up, sighing, reminiscing; it seemed that with just a lift of Shen Lao San's hand, a sword could pierce his throat; yet Shen Lao San remained kneeling, his head bowed, sweat pouring from his body, his face reddening as if he were about to bleed, unable to lift his head even a bit.