A massive crimson sun sank in the west, its dying light staining the sky in hues of blood. Thick scarlet clouds sprawled across the heavens, painting most of the firmament in a ghastly, eerie red, as if the very air were suffused with spilled blood.
Even the scent of iron and gore assaulted the senses—no illusion, for the earth below roared with the clamor of battle. Countless lives clashed in a desperate struggle, their blood drenching the sands in vast, spreading pools.
The battlefield stretched endlessly, teeming with warriors beyond reckoning. Corpses lay strewn for tens of thousands of miles, a grotesque tapestry of fallen from countless races. This was no mortal war—this was a conflict of cultivators, whose clashes shook the heavens and earth, their power rending the very fabric of the land.
For even the mightiest among them could traverse hundreds, even thousands of miles in the heat of combat, turning the vast desert into a colossal killing ground.
“Kill!” The war cries shattered the skies, shaking the earth and splitting the firmament asunder. The combatants were too powerful, their murderous auras surging between heaven and earth, churning the void itself. Blood rained from above, drenching the land in crimson, transforming the sands into a ghastly, sodden red.
“Ah—!” A great knight, one of the commanders of the Nine Heavens, was struck down atop a hundred-thousand-zhang-long flood dragon. His blood scattered like rain across the heavens.
His mount, an ancient two-headed flood dragon, fared no better. After countless years of cultivation, its massive body—stretching like a mountain range—was torn apart by a monstrous, ape-like creature from the foreign realm.
In an instant, the skies wept blood, mingling with the sunset’s glow, dyeing the world in a terrifying, heart-stopping scarlet.
The land was baptized in crimson. Even the desert pooled with blood, the air thick with the stench of slaughter. Here, life was fragile—even a mighty knight at the pinnacle of martial prowess could fall in the blink of an eye.
On the side of the Nine Heavens and Ten Earths, many eyes burned with fury.
The foreign realm’s elite warrior, a towering figure wreathed in black fur, stood as tall as the heavens themselves. Its roar shattered the clouds, its monstrous form stained with blood, a demonic overlord incarnate.
With a thunderous crash, the sky split as another great knight arrived, an ancient cauldron hovering above his head. He descended with overwhelming force, clashing fiercely with the beast.
Further away, Shi Hao was already embroiled in battle. Here, one either killed or was killed—no mercy, no quarter. Even the mightiest cultivators could perish in an instant if they faltered.
“Clang!”
A celestial halberd swung at Shi Hao was shattered by his counterstrike. With a flick of his wrist, he unleashed the Thunder Emperor’s Treasure Art. A bolt of violet lightning erupted from his palm, reducing his foe to charred remains.
“First,” he counted coldly, then turned to the next adversary.
“Boom!” The Kun Peng Fist erupted, obliterating several enemies in a spray of blood and gore.
None here were weak—each of his victims had been at the Heavenly Deity Realm. Only those of such strength dared tread this battlefield.
“Nine,” Shi Hao intoned, his expression unfeeling. Here, hesitation meant death. These foreign invaders sought to breach the Imperial Pass, to ravage the Nine Heavens and Ten Earths once more. They were butchers, relishing the slaughter of the past, eager to repeat their atrocities.
A grizzled elder tossed him a bone talisman, its surface carved with intricate glyphs. “No need to count. Use this.”
Shi Hao frowned. “What is it?”
Before he could inquire further, a bloodstained spear thrust toward his brow, wielded by a silver-skinned fiend from the foreign realm. The creature had already slain over a dozen warriors, its spear still impaled with half a human heart, which it gnawed upon with relish.
“Die!” Shi Hao’s eyes flashed with cold fury. He caught the spear between his palms, snapped it in two, then drove his fist forward with unstoppable force.
The fiend conjured a sacred vessel of light, attempting to suppress Shi Hao’s strike. But with a resounding crack, the vessel shattered. Shi Hao’s fist pierced through, exploding the creature’s chest in a shower of gore.
The bone talisman glowed, etching a mark.
“Now you see its purpose,” the elder chuckled.
Shi Hao nodded, then crushed another foe with a casual slap—yet the talisman remained inert.
“Why?”
“Heavenly Deities are but ants here. Only those at the Void Dao Realm warrant recording,” the elder explained.
Shi Hao exhaled sharply. To reclaim his clan’s honor, he needed to slay a hundred thousand such foes. The thought was staggering.
“You seek glory?” the elder asked.
“Desperately,” Shi Hao replied. His clan teetered on the brink of extinction.
“Then hunt the elite—the royal-blooded. One of their lives is worth a hundred lesser warriors.”
Shi Hao’s gaze sharpened. He would seek out these so-called kings—or even a young emperor of the foreign realm.
A deafening roar echoed as dozens of cages burst open on the horizon. Monstrous beasts surged forth, their auras suffused with slaughter. Among them, an eight-thousand-zhang-long wolf-like abomination, armored in black scales, tore through the ranks, devouring cultivators whole.
“Beast, die!” The elder who had gifted Shi Hao the talisman charged forth, his blade a streak of silver light. But the monster’s spined back deflected the strike—then its maw snapped shut, crushing the elder into pulp.
“No! Master!” His disciples wailed in anguish.
Shi Hao’s vision reddened. Too late to intervene, he roared and surged forward, his body swelling to titanic proportions. The beast turned, feigning retreat—only to lash out with its bone spikes, each capable of rending the heavens.
But Shi Hao was relentless. His fist, imbued with the power of Samsara, shattered the spikes and sent the beast reeling. With a final, thunderous grip, he tore the monstrosity in half, its blood cascading like a waterfall upon the sands below.
The desert drank deeply, its thirst unquenchable.
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