Near the dark ruins, the youths from the foreign realm seethed with fury. Some bore demonic runes on their foreheads, their icy gazes fixed on Shi Hao.
“Feed it to pigs? That was half a drop of the ancient ancestor He Wushuang’s true blood! How dare that man on the battlefield speak like this?” Their killing intent erupted in waves.
On the battlefield, the young man’s words were nothing short of an insult to the foreign realm. A figure like He Wushuang was someone even their ancestors revered—who would dare profane his name?
Many turned their eyes to He Ziming, awaiting his response.
“You’re forcing my hand,” He Ziming said calmly, his gentle smile fading. His expression was unreadable, like an ancient well—utterly still.
“What makes you think you’re some peerless supreme? If you’re willing to gift me your ancestor’s true blood for pig farming, I’ll thank you,” Shi Hao retorted.
“Provoking me will bring you no good end!” He Ziming strode forward, golden light erupting around him. His hair billowed like a river of stars, resonating with the heavens and shaking the earth.
In an instant, the world trembled. Near the border of the Great Scarlet Sky, close to the chaotic void, smaller stars quivered under his might.
He Ziming’s terrifying aura stunned the younger generation. They inhaled sharply, realizing the insurmountable gap between them.
“As expected of the He Clan. If they’re this formidable, one can only imagine how terrifying the Anlan and Yutuo Clans must be—lofty and untouchable. The geniuses emerging from these ancient lands are living monuments of martial prowess,” someone sighed, overwhelmed by helplessness.
Shi Hao smirked coldly. “Oh? Then I’m quite curious—how do you compare to He Wushuang in his youth?”
He Wushuang had been peerless in his era, tasked with slaughtering the young supremes of the late Immortal Ancient Age. Riding a single mount, he had swept through battlefields, his hands drenched in blood.
To the foreign realm, he was a legend—an invincible warrior, unrivaled in his time!
“Our ancestors’ glory is something we revere, but descendants are not necessarily inferior to their forebears. You’ll learn that soon enough!” He Ziming’s voice turned frosty.
The He Clan’s ancient ancestor was a taboo, a legend not to be questioned or defiled. Those who dared oppose him would be slain without mercy—family honor demanded it.
“Come. I’ve always wanted a mount. Your true form is a golden divine crane, isn’t it? Perfect for my tastes,” Shi Hao said bluntly.
From the moment He Ziming had gifted the silver-haired woman half a drop of true blood, any pretense of civility had vanished.
This was Shi Hao’s true intent. He had fought He Wushuang before and knew his true form was a terrifying golden crane—though far from ordinary.
Chaos erupted among the foreign realm’s forces. How dare someone speak of taming a member of the He Clan as a mount? The audacity!
**BOOM!**
The heavens split, the earth shattered. Ghosts wailed, gods howled.
He Ziming struck, his fist unleashing a torrent of divine light. The world quaked, the ancient battlefield crumbled. His power eclipsed even the ten champions from before.
His bearing was peerless—cold yet radiating unshakable confidence.
A single punch carried an unstoppable momentum!
Even the elders of the Nine Heavens and Ten Earths paled. If this was the might of the He Clan, how terrifying would the Anlan and Yutuo Clans be?
**THUD!**
Shi Hao countered, his fist igniting with blazing radiance. The collision between them drowned everything in blinding light.
Was this still a battle between youths? Even veteran experts were stunned—this was no mere clash of techniques, but a contest of their respective Daos!
Both had forged their own invincible paths, and now those paths collided.
The explosion was cataclysmic. The sky burned, light engulfed the land. Mountains turned to dust, the earth sank—as if doomsday had arrived.
When the brilliance faded, the battlefield was a wasteland. The sky bore gaping voids and fissures, while the ground seethed with magma.
The two young warriors stood at opposite ends, unharmed, locked in a silent standoff.
“You nearly ruined my tenfold tonic,” Shi Hao remarked, lifting a massive silver beast—the transformed form of Yin Ling.
“Today, you die!” He Ziming declared, advancing through the void.
“Even your ancestor He Wushuang, in his youth, wouldn’t dare speak to me like this,” Shi Hao replied, his aura swelling as he prepared for true battle.
**SHING!**
He Ziming’s right hand gleamed with cryptic symbols—radiant yet soul-shaking. Many in the foreign realm watched intently, unwilling to miss a single detail.
“*Indestructible Scripture*,” Shi Hao mused. So, He Wushuang had indeed brought back half of the scripture and mastered it. Even his descendants cultivated it—proof of its significance.
Shi Hao had used it earlier, though subtly, hiding the runes within his flesh.
“The He Clan’s body arts are unrivaled. Their members achieve sainthood in their youth, thanks to a certain scripture—and He Ziming is demonstrating it now!” someone whispered.
“I’ll teach you the height of the heavens and the depth of the earth. The He Clan does not tolerate disrespect!” He Ziming raised his hand, his voice icy.
The *Indestructible Scripture* granted an unbreakable body, impervious to decay. He Ziming intended to crush his foe with sheer physical supremacy.
Shi Hao remained unfazed—he had mastered the scripture too, and more completely.
**BOOM!**
Suddenly, the abyss below trembled. Armored cavalry surged forth, accompanied by war horns.
“The first barrier of the Borderlands has fallen! Retreat from the Great Scarlet Sky and march to battle—the true invasion begins now!” a voice thundered across the frontier.
The news struck like lightning. The defenders of the Nine Heavens and Ten Earths turned pale.
“Hahaha!” He Ziming lowered his hand, laughing triumphantly. “Success! This is the news I came to deliver. Elders, the time for slaughter has come!”
The ancient figures by the abyss stirred, retreating into the darkness.
Where was the Borderlands? The edge of the Three Thousand Dao Provinces!
According to legend, that was the true gateway to the Nine Heavens and Ten Earths.
The crisis at the Great Scarlet Sky had been a feint. Even if breached, the realm’s barriers would hold. But the Borderlands—long contested, its laws eroded—was nearly assimilated by the foreign realm. Once broken, their armies would flood in unimpeded.
Had it not been for certain taboos and ancient arrangements, the Borderlands would have fallen long ago.
“Did they lure us here to prevent us from reinforcing the Borderlands?” someone from the Nine Heavens stammered, despairing. The world might already be lost.
The elders of the immortal clans remained grim, silent.
“The Ten Realms Diagram and the Immortal King’s Shroud are here. Without immediate reinforcement, the Borderlands are in grave danger,” the Great Elder sighed.
Yet his eyes gleamed with resolve. “But the Borderlands are no ordinary place. They won’t fall so easily. We must march at once!”
“Go! Now!” others urged, frantic.
However, the elders of the Immortal Academy and Sacred Academy remained composed. “This is too obvious a diversion,” one muttered.
“Indeed. A feint within a feint—but their true target is still here,” another whispered.
Their gazes turned toward the chaotic border of the Great Scarlet Sky.
Great Elder Meng Tianzheng sent a mental message: “We all suspect it, but we have no choice. The Ten Realms Diagram must go to the Borderlands, lest disaster strike. Leave the Immortal King’s Shroud here.”
“Then the legends are true. Something significant happened here long ago, forcing the foreign realm to retreat. Now they return for it,” someone said gravely.
The city at the border was built from immortal bones—something no ordinary power could achieve.
When the ancient inhabitants were slaughtered, who could have constructed it? The mystery remained unsolved.
Now, the foreign realm sought to uncover that secret.
Their simultaneous assaults on the Borderlands and the Great Scarlet Sky were a calculated move—to seize something of immense value.
“But we cannot neglect the Borderlands. If their armies break through, all will be lost,” the Sacred Academy’s elder warned.
The stakes had never been higher.
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