The faces of those men turned grim, their unease palpable. This young man was simply too formidable—defeating his enemies in a single move, never needing a second strike.
Most crucially, the rotten wooden chest had changed hands. This sacred object, meant for today’s transaction, was now lost. How could they explain this to the dark creatures?
“Speak. Which clan do you hail from? Why are you dealing with dark creatures? What exactly is their origin?” Shi Hao asked.
Having reclaimed the rotten wooden chest, he was in no hurry. Everything could be unraveled slowly, step by step.
The men clamped their mouths shut, refusing to utter a word. Some flickered their eyes, plotting escape, while others stood frozen like wooden statues, utterly stunned.
Their reactions varied, each harboring different thoughts.
Some sought to guard their secrets, not daring to reveal anything. Others wanted to flee, to escape this calamity. Still, some hesitated, torn between flight and duty—for failing the transaction would spell disaster!
**Bang!**
Blood blossomed as the most resolute among them exploded, pierced by a sword beam from Shi Hao’s raised hand. His entire body disintegrated into a mist of blood under the unstoppable blade’s radiance.
The wavering gazes of the others turned to terror, their fear deepening.
“Friend, who are you? Hold your hand for now. You must understand—this rotten wooden chest is coveted by the dark creatures. They will stop at nothing to obtain it. Taking it will bring you great calamity,” one of them spoke up.
**Bang!**
The next instant, a sword beam swept forth, the might of the Grass Script Sword Art unstoppable. His arm fell to the ground, blood gushing.
The man paled instantly, unable to utter another word.
“Know this—my patience is limited. I am the one asking questions here. Answer if you know, stay silent if you don’t. Do not threaten me!” Shi Hao said coldly.
Silence descended upon them.
“Still unwilling to speak? Then I’ll extract the truth myself.” Shi Hao sneered.
“I’ll talk!” One of them finally cracked, his voice trembling as he revealed their origins.
They were of the Wind Clan, hailing from an immortal lineage.
“That ancestor of the Wind Clan truly has the audacity—daring to betray the Nine Heavens and Ten Earths!” Shi Hao’s voice turned icy.
Last time, Yuan Qing had led members of their clan to ambush him, exposing everything.
One of the Wind Clan’s ancestors had long despised the Shi Clan, harboring deep hostility toward the so-called “Sinful Bloodline.” When Shi Hao first arrived in Boundless Heaven, Yuan Qing had obstructed him, nearly killing him before exiling him to the Primordial Ancient Mine—all because of this grudge.
During the Border War, an immortal lineage had defected to the enemy. Shi Hao had suspected it was them.
Now, with darkness suddenly descending upon the land, this clan’s “radicalism” left him speechless. They were clearly determined to rebel.
“Back then, the Wind Clan’s ancient ancestor was a man of unyielding integrity, a peerless genius who stood among the True Immortals. He died in battle at the end of the last era. Yet now, his descendants have fallen to this.” Shi Hao sighed softly.
The rotten wooden chest—even An Lan and Yu Tuo had sought to seize it. Yet this clan had offered it up in trade to the dark creatures.
The world was ever-changing, and many things had been lost to time.
Further interrogation proved futile. They knew nothing of the dark creatures’ origins—their ancestor had never elaborated.
“My apologies, gentlemen. Time to send you on your way,” Shi Hao declared.
With a wave of his hand, crimson phoenix feathers materialized, radiant and aflame, ready to incinerate the heavens and earth, enveloping the area.
“Who are you, really?” one of them demanded, unwilling to die without knowing.
“The Chaos-Born Demon Ape!” Shi Hao replied.
His form shifted—no longer a burly man, but a monstrous ape with gaping jaws and fangs.
Shi Hao was cautious, wary of prying eyes that might spread word of his true identity.
Now, having mastered the Eight-Nine Heavenly Art and perfected the Seventy-Two Transformations, he could alter his form at will. Even those with Heavenly Eyes could not see through his disguise.
“The Great Calamity of the Lower Realm—you actually ascended!” The men gasped in shock.
But it was too late.
Shi Hao struck. The fiery feathers swallowed them whole. In an instant, they were reduced to skeletons, then ashes, scattered by the wind.
Such was the dominance of the True Phoenix Treasure Art—capable of turning even the mightiest beings to cinders in a heartbeat.
Shi Hao stood motionless, like a statue, waiting for the dark creatures to appear.
At last, as the sun dipped westward, staining the sky blood-red, the sound of hoofbeats echoed.
A surge of black mist rolled forth, so thick that even the dying light of the sun was devoured, leaving no trace of illumination.
A monstrous horse emerged—massive, scaled, its maw reeking of decay.
Upon its back sat a knight clad in black armor, exuding a chilling, murderous aura. This was a cultivator of immense power.
Yet he had not reached the Sovereign Realm, so Shi Hao remained unshaken, waiting calmly.
He had to admit—this creature was formidable, surpassing most in the Escape-From-One Realm. A truly fearsome foe.
Without even clashing, Shi Hao sensed this would be a troublesome opponent.
Shrouded in black mist, radiating killing intent, the knight on his dark steed arrived, his gaze sharp as blades.
“Have you brought the item?” the dark knight demanded.
Shi Hao sighed. Both rider and steed were enveloped in darkness. Engaging them would be troublesome—capturing one alive to interrogate might prove difficult.
“I have it. But first, I’d like to know your origins,” Shi Hao said, holding up the rotten wooden chest.
“Impudent. That is not for you to ask,” the knight snapped.
“I offer you a gift, yet you respond with arrogance. This trade is ill-fated,” Shi Hao lamented.
“Hah. The Nine Heavens and Ten Earths will soon be swallowed by darkness. How dare you defy me?” The knight’s voice grew colder.
“Defy you? Then perish!”
Shi Hao struck without hesitation. Sword beams erupted from his fingertips as he unleashed the Grass Script Sword Art.
Blades of grass materialized in the air, each with nine leaves, spinning rapidly. Countless sword beams shot forth!
**Roar!**
The dark knight bellowed, throwing a punch that sent dark energy surging violently.
**Boom!**
The collision shook heaven and earth, plunging the world into darkness.
Shi Hao retreated slightly, not out of fear for the knight’s strength, but to avoid the corrupting dark energy that eroded the soul.
Nearby, the knight and his steed charged forward.
The black-scaled warhorse, resembling a demonic dragon, lunged with its gaping maw, intent on devouring Shi Hao.
Its hooves thundered, causing the earth to tremble and mountains to crumble.
“Die!” the dark knight roared, throwing another punch.
Yet his fist now dripped black blood—he had been wounded in their first exchange.
Enraged, the knight struck with even greater force, his fist descending like a collapsing sky.
**Boom!**
Shi Hao’s body ignited with flames, a phoenix’s silhouette enveloping him in sacred light.
Simultaneously, sword beams surged from his hands—the Grass Script Sword Art still in play.
The former was the Phoenix Clan’s peerless legacy—rebirth through fire, ensuring eternal preservation. The latter was an unrivaled offensive technique, its sword beams capable of slaying all foes.
“Ah, it works!”
Shi Hao’s eyes lit up. The True Phoenix Treasure Art shielded him from the dark energy, neutralizing its lethal threat.
“No wonder the Phoenix is called the Undying Bird. There’s truth to it!” he marveled. Even as the dark energy raged, he remained unscathed.
Amidst the battle, phoenix cries echoed as he withstood the dark tide.
Meanwhile, his Grass Script Sword Art unleashed its full might.
**Slash!**
In a fierce exchange, Shi Hao severed the black steed’s head, sending dark blood gushing skyward.
“I despise undying birds!” the dark knight growled.
His face hidden behind his helm, only his icy eyes were visible. With a roar, he summoned a black spear, charging at Shi Hao with lethal intent.
The spear’s tip aimed straight for Shi Hao’s brow.
**Bang!**
Space itself shattered from the force of the thrust.
Yet despite the knight’s overwhelming power—unrivaled below the Sovereign Realm—Shi Hao stood firm.
His sword beams surged, a radiant deluge.
**Clang!**
The black spear snapped, its tip clattering to the ground.
The Grass Script Sword Art—one of the three greatest sword techniques in history—lived up to its name.
The battle raged on. The dark knight fought savagely, his fists churning the heavens.
Shi Hao remained composed. Phoenix feathers materialized around him, forming a ring of fire that trapped the knight.
“Speak! What is your true origin?” Shi Hao demanded.
He had all but captured the creature alive.
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