“Outrageous!” the old woman shrieked. In front of so many people, she had been slapped by a junior, her mouth spewing blood as she was sent flying far away—truly a mix of shock and fury.
“Outrageous? Outrageous, you old hag!” Shi Hao retorted coldly. She had secretly interfered in his decisive battle and sought to eliminate him. No matter her status, he would not yield.
Xi Hua Po’s face alternated between green and red—this was humiliation. She hailed from the Heaven Mending Sect, a dignified Venerable, yet she had been slapped in public. What an utter disgrace, an unparalleled shame!
“You are truly insolent! Do you think winning one battle makes you the Young Supreme, free to act as you please?” Xi Hua Po roared.
Hearing this, Shi Hao curled his lips into a cold smirk. “Someone wants to kill me, and I’m not allowed to retaliate? You old hag are courting death!”
The crowd gasped. Xi Hua Po was a figure close to the Lunar Grace Goddess, hailing from the Heaven Mending Sect. In recent days, she had traversed the Desolate Wastelands, receiving reverence from all sects. This situation was shocking—Shi Hao dared to strike so brazenly, an act of no small consequence.
“What happened?” Many were puzzled, unaware of why Shi Hao had clashed with Xi Hua Po. With the Desolate Wastelands on the brink of chaos and the Heaven Mending Sect descending with overwhelming force, even beings from the Ancient Divine Mountains hesitated to provoke this supreme sect. Yet this youth stood unyielding.
“I bear you no grudge, yet you attack me without cause. Is this not insolence?” Xi Hua Po’s face darkened as she struck the void with her dragon-headed staff, venting her rage.
“Old crone, does your face not burn with shame? You interfered in my duel with Shi Yi and just now attempted murder. Do you think I didn’t notice? Spare me your false innocence!” Shi Hao rebuked.
Xi Hua Po’s expression frosted over. Though no longer young, she despised being called an old crone outright, her face growing even darker.
“Nonsense!” she snapped.
Suddenly, Shi Hao moved, transforming into a streak of light as he lunged at the old woman, intent on capturing and killing her. Yet, the void trembled—the Heaven Mending Sect’s Venerable had vanished without a trace, as if evaporated from existence.
Shi Hao stood still, startled. “Void Beast Hide!” he muttered. He recalled the auction in the Stone Nation’s capital, where a piece of Void Beast Hide had fetched an astronomical price, coveted by countless sects. It must have fallen into the old woman’s hands.
“Even with such a treasure, you will pay today!” Shi Hao growled.
A golden streak shot toward him—a feathered arrow, its shaft gleaming with terrifying ripples, aimed straight for his back.
Another had struck, undoubtedly a Venerable. Earlier assailants had lurked in the shadows, but now, with the Heaven Mending Sect involved, some grew bolder, unleashing ruthless attacks.
Shi Hao dodged. The golden arrow pierced through the void like a rainbow, impaling several innocent cultivators who instantly exploded into nothingness. The sheer lethality of the strike was horrifying.
The crowd panicked, scrambling to avoid further collateral damage.
At the same time, the sky rumbled as an endless black cloud descended, pressing down on Shi Hao. It was a massive umbrella, blotting out the heavens, its obsidian surface exuding an oppressive aura.
The black umbrella trembled, unleashing cascades of rain-like symbols—ancient, intricate, and deadly. The area became a slaughterhouse, screams erupting as bodies fell like autumn leaves.
Shi Hao sneered. The hidden Venerables could no longer restrain themselves, seizing this chance to eliminate him and seize his treasures.
He punched upward, unleashing a torrent of blazing fire akin to molten lava—the fusion of the Ancient Vermilion Bird’s Four Strikes, tyrannical and divine. The flames, the bird’s wings, and the divine blaze condensed into a single symbol, warping space as it collided with the black umbrella.
**BOOM!**
The explosion was cataclysmic, as if a star had detonated, turning the area into a wasteland of destruction. The demonic umbrella shattered, disintegrating like a black sun.
Ancient chants filled the air, symbols swirling in a maelstrom of annihilation.
“How ruthless!” the onlookers gasped. To destroy such a rare treasure just to wound Shi Hao further—such extravagance!
Shi Hao sighed. The allure of the Ten Calamities’ techniques was too great. For his secrets, they would sacrifice even Venerable artifacts.
He spat blood, staggering back despite shielding himself. It wasn’t weakness—just the cunning of these old foxes, wearing him down bit by bit.
His gaze turned icy, sweeping the battlefield. The Venerables were relentless, methodically chipping away at him.
“Young fool, even your peers cannot tolerate you. How will you escape this?” Xi Hua Po reappeared, smirking.
“Old hag, keep your neck clean—I’ll come for you soon!” Shi Hao shot back.
**DONG!**
A serene bell tolled, calming hearts like a clear spring. Yet, for Shi Hao, it was a blade stabbing into his soul. Cursed runes wrapped around him, attacking his spirit—another move by the Heaven Mending Sect.
His vision swam, his mind a tempest on the verge of splitting.
**”Hmph!”**
Golden light erupted from his brow as his divine energy condensed into countless miniature cauldrons, coursing through his flesh. His mental power, too, transformed into radiant golden cauldrons, illuminating his skull with divine brilliance.
“Remarkable! Even among peerless lords, few can refine their divine energy into Dao symbols at the Engraving Realm,” someone marveled.
Shi Hao’s golden cauldrons repelled the curse, their radiant mists neutralizing the unseen assault.
“Kill!”
The Venerables struck in unison, their attacks flooding the battlefield with artifacts and runes, turning it into a sea of calamity.
“Father, save him!” Princess Huoling pleaded from her carriage.
“A man must walk his own path. If he dares to fight here, he must face the consequences. Survive, and he is a true dragon. Fall, and he was never worthy,” Emperor Huo declared, refusing to intervene.
Shi Hao struggled, his ten heavenly apertures forming a radiant shield, yet he wavered under the onslaught. Still, his speed saved him, evading most attacks.
“Must I kill a few before you take me seriously?!” he roared, enraged despite his injuries.
When another golden arrow shot toward him, his eyes blazed—two golden cauldrons manifesting in his pupils, his divine sense sweeping the battlefield.
“There you are!”
He had long marked his assailants, especially the archer. Now, he struck.
Black tides surged beneath his feet as his body became a vessel of the Dao, resonating with cosmic hymns. Ignoring his wounds, he pushed the Kun Peng technique to its limits, riding waves of Yin energy as he closed in.
“You—!”
A figure tumbled from the void, panic flashing across his face as he clutched a golden bow. Though a Venerable, he knew Shi Hao’s terror—slayer of prodigies and Golden Spider Venerable alike.
“Brothers, we cannot let this brat rampage! Suppress him!” Xi Hua Po urged from afar.
Yet Shi Hao’s next move stunned all. With a clap of his hands, a foot-long black Kun fish leaped forth, shrouded in boundless Yin energy.
**”Die!”**
The fish’s tail swept aside all attacks, an unrivaled technique of peerless might. The cost? Shi Hao coughed blood, swaying—but he pressed on.
His left hand transformed into a golden Roc’s claw, seizing the archer’s arm.
**CRACK!**
The arm tore free, blood spraying as the Venerable screamed.
In close quarters, they clashed—hundreds of exchanges in moments. Shi Hao bled, but he prevailed, tearing the man apart.
A Soul Suppression Pagoda materialized in his palm, crushing the archer’s spirit. The crowd shuddered—this was true death, both in the Void God Realm and reality.
Silent, Shi Hao channeled the Primal Chaos Scripture, attuning to the void’s tremors, hunting Xi Hua Po.
The battle was far from over.
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