Wang Changsheng leaped into the air, looking youthful like a fledgling eagle spreading its wings. His arms resonated as he let out a fierce cry, charging toward the Grand Elder.
There were no beams of light, no ripples of grand dao symbols—just sheer directness, utterly unlike the decisive clash of peerless experts.
The Grand Elder sidestepped, his right arm coiling like a serpent, twisting at an impossible angle to meet the sky, akin to a python swallowing the moon.
**Boom!**
The two collided with a dull impact. The heavens did not shatter; only the point of contact between their bodies produced an eerie resonance.
Shi Hao opened his Heavenly Eye, his breath nearly halting as he scrutinized the battle. Even now, he couldn’t discern the profound mysteries within—he yearned to understand.
**Ssshh!**
Finally, he caught a glimpse. Around the two supreme experts, fragments of the void shattered and mended, like fleeting sparks interweaving before vanishing swiftly.
Their power was undeniably terrifying, yet not a single strand of it leaked out. Instead, they devoured the void’s energy—those sparks must have been drawn from the essence of the cosmos itself.
This… was unimaginable!
Shi Hao faintly realized that if these two unleashed their full might, they could tear down the sun and moon, rend the great universe asunder!
Yet, they were restraining themselves.
That Shi Hao couldn’t fathom this was no surprise—even Wang Da and Wang Er barely grasped it, despite their own unfathomable cultivation.
The Nine Dragons had cultivated for endless eons, traversing from the ancient past to the present. Any one of them could sweep through all challengers, their depths immeasurable.
Now, only the Eighth and the Ninth among them could truly perceive the duel between these two supreme beings.
“Fusing True Immortal laws, simplifying the profound, condensing the mysteries of the heavens into a few strikes—such skill, such mastery, is beyond us,” sighed the Eighth Dragon of the Wang Clan.
Wang Da frowned, about to speak, when behind him, the second mountain inscribed with immortal runes suddenly shattered, exploding completely.
“Heavens! How could this be? This is our clan’s immortal heritage, part of the supreme formation—how could it collapse?”
Chaos erupted within the Wang Clan. Many youths and elders panicked—this was unprecedented. Just how formidable must their enemy be to achieve this?
Many had believed that no matter what befell their immortal grounds, they would never be destroyed. Yet today shattered that conviction, sowing terror among them.
“That old bastard is far too strong! If only we could eliminate him now—otherwise, he’ll remain an insurmountable mountain in our path!” Wang Da muttered darkly.
On the battlefield, the Grand Elder seized the initiative, his robes fluttering like a raptor soaring into the heavens as he struck at Wang Changsheng!
Just like before, there was no grand spectacle, yet an inexplicable pressure weighed upon all, as if this strike could sever entire constellations.
**Roar!**
Wang Changsheng bellowed like a savage tiger. Before him, a beast of chaos materialized—a tiger, claws bared, lunging at the Grand Elder.
Simultaneously, the Grand Elder’s unassuming figure finally shifted. A massive bird, also forged from chaos, though indistinct, surged forward to meet the tiger.
“Disaster! They’re losing control—this is the final strike, the most terrifying clash!” Wang Jiu exclaimed.
He personally activated the clan’s formation, causing all mountains to tremble in resonance, fortifying their defenses.
At this moment, the heavens themselves quivered under the might of these two supreme experts.
The sight was beyond belief!
**Whoosh!**
The sun dimmed in the sky, overshadowed by the two peerless warriors. Stars emerged in multitudes, colossal celestial bodies rumbling as if poised to descend.
**Roar!**
The two roared in unison—they could no longer hold back. Soaring into the void, the tiger and the bird collided, erupting in a storm of chaotic light.
**Boom!**
The impact shook heaven and earth. The cosmos beyond cracked, fissures stretching for countless miles—a sight of utter dread.
In an instant, the two experts reached the outer realms, standing amidst the stars for their ultimate clash.
Wang Changsheng’s hand was terrifying—with a flip of his palm, he seized a string of massive stars, refining them into weapons to hurl at the Grand Elder.
**Boom!**
Starlight scattered as the Grand Elder’s sleeve shattered the celestial projectiles. Then, he unleashed a fist imprint, hurtling toward Wang Changsheng’s chest.
**Ssshh!**
Wang Changsheng’s roar shattered nearby stars. From his brow, a black ancient sword emerged—slashing toward the Grand Elder.
The **Pacification Sword Art—Divine Soul Sword Embryo!**
This was the peerless sword dao, a supreme technique whose legends spanned the ages. A marvel unrivaled through time.
Indeed, the Grand Elder’s expression turned grave. His fist imprints layered upon themselves, wave upon wave, like a thousand tides converging into one.
Moreover, his arms twisted nine times, amplifying the force—fist radiance unparalleled, surging like a boiling stellar sea, all focused on one point: the Divine Soul Sword Embryo.
The Grand Elder’s solemnity was evident—he marshaled his full might against this blade.
**Ssshh!**
Both warriors vanished into the depths of the cosmos, for the aftermath of this strike was beyond reckoning.
**Boom!**
Countless runes detonated within a starfield as the Divine Soul Sword Embryo clashed with the Grand Elder’s Nine Revolutions Fist Imprint—a cataclysm of terror.
For a fleeting moment, it was as if the final battle of the Immortal Ancient Era had returned—the auras of supreme beings resurfacing.
Such a duel was rare in this era, seen only in the last epoch.
Stars burned, the universe fractured, cracks spreading rapidly before the light flickered—then darkness.
Had this spectacle been witnessed, it would have horrified all. A battle of this magnitude in the cosmic depths surpassed mortal comprehension.
In the late Immortal Ancient Era, the final cataclysm had shattered the ancient world into the Nine Heavens and Ten Earths—precisely because too many supreme experts had unleashed their full might.
“What’s the outcome?” The Wang Clan’s ancient grounds were tense, their anxiety palpable.
The duel’s implications were vast—if one fell, their lineage and legacy would perish with them.
“Seize him first! He’s the root of all this!” Wang Da’s voice was icy, his gaze like twin blades as he locked onto Shi Hao.
Whether the Grand Elder won or lost, capturing Shi Hao would grant them leverage.
Wang Jiu shook his head, gesturing toward Shi Hao’s body.
Upon him lay a tattered cloth, stained with blackened blood, riddled with holes—ancient beyond reckoning.
The **Burial Shroud**—once the battle standard of the Immortal Ancient Era, which had wrapped the corpses of two Immortal Kings, carrying their eternal grief and wrath.
Shi Hao felt an eerie sensation, as if transported to a vast battlefield—screams shook the heavens, corpses of mighty beings rained from the sky, blood drenched the earth, bones piled into mountains.
A tragic tableau of ancestral sacrifice, the battle standard bearing witness, steeped in the blood of heroes, embodying their unyielding sorrow.
“The battle standard is upon him. That old fiend draped it over him before leaving. But surely it’s useless—how could it stop us? This brat is still weak, far from maturity,” Wang Da sneered.
He lunged forward, intent on seizing the shroud—a feat that would be an unparalleled achievement.
Yet, the impossible happened. The standard billowed, unleashing a roar of war, the sound of slaughter shaking the world. With a single sweep, it sent Wang Da flying, blood trickling from his lips.
“That old bastard left behind a wisp of his essence!” Wang Da spat hatefully.
“Brat, do you think Meng Tianzheng’s shadow shields you? None marked for death by the Wang Clan have ever survived. For an ant like you, erasure is trivial. I believe Meng Tianzheng will fall—then your fate will be wretched indeed.”
Wang Da’s voice dripped venom as he summoned his brothers, seeking to dismantle the Immortal King’s Burial Shroud, to sever the Grand Elder’s retreat.
**Ssshh!**
A divine rainbow descended from the heavens, alighting beside Shi Hao.
Simultaneously, Wang Changsheng returned, standing before the Nine Dragons.
Both were silent. The battle had ended—exceeding their initial agreement of three or four exchanges.
“A draw. Let us cease,” Wang Changsheng declared.
“Agreed. But my terms stand—they must be met,” the Grand Elder replied.
“Father!” Wang Da and the others stepped forward, seething with resentment. To be challenged on their own grounds, only to relent—it was humiliation.
“From this day forth, that youth is not to be targeted,” Wang Changsheng stated before turning away without another word.
“Words alone are hollow. Issue an edict. And those unique spirit herbs from your immortal soil—not a single one less!” the Grand Elder demanded.
“You go too far!” Wang Da snarled.
“You may torment my disciple, yet I cannot visit in kind?” The Grand Elder’s voice was frost.
“Stand down!” Wang Changsheng rebuked, summoning the current clan leader to draft the edict, forbidding all provocation against the Grand Elder’s lineage.
All were stunned. Wang Changsheng had conceded—and so readily!
Were this to spread, the boundless heavens would tremble—shockwaves of disbelief would ripple across the land!
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