The progenitor of the Demon Dragon Sect—Yao Yi—saw a pitch-black, skeletal figure approaching, his pupils gleaming with a sharp light.
“Get lost! You look like a charred log—nothing but skin and bones, not even worth eating!” A creature at the Divine Flame Realm nearby barked.
These were all disciples of the Demon Dragon Sect, shoving Shi Hao away with disgust, refusing to let him near.
To them, this was clearly a failure—someone who had ruined his own Dao foundation while igniting his Divine Flame, leaving his body withered and skeletal.
Yet, to their surprise, the figure didn’t stop. Instead, he grinned widely, like a dried, scorched flower. His face was blackened and shriveled, only his teeth remaining stark white as he smiled at everyone—especially Yao Yi. That gaze was unsettling, almost disturbingly affectionate.
Not just those present, even the cultivators from various sects watching from outside felt a chill. Some couldn’t help but wonder:
“Is this freak into men or something?”
By the divine spring, these newly ascended gods darkened their faces and roared, taking action. One of them spat out a crimson mist that condensed into a divine sword, slashing toward Shi Hao.
*Clang!*
Yet, the charred, skeletal figure merely raised a hand, effortlessly blocking the sword—then pinched it between his fingers.
This was a rare beast-tooth sword, refined into a divine artifact, unbreakable by ordinary means. Yet, without even using any secret techniques, the man snapped it with a crisp *crack*.
The group paled in shock.
“Who… are you?”
They tensed, their eyes blazing with divine light as they scrutinized the blackened figure, as if he had survived some horrific fire calamity.
“You all… are from the Demon Dragon Sect?” Shi Hao squinted, recognizing the insignia on their robes. He had slaughtered plenty of them in the Spirit Realm.
The disciples’ expressions darkened, no longer daring to underestimate this charred figure.
“Friend, who are you? What do you want?” Yao Yi spoke up.
Beneath a stone cliff, a divine spring shimmered like liquid jade, radiant and translucent.
Yao Yi, submerged within, coiled his massive flood dragon body, emanating holy light. His vitality surged, his blood energy like a vast ocean—far stronger than before his ascension.
“I… am the one you’ve been searching for,” Shi Hao replied, his blackened skin making his teeth seem even whiter.
Yao Yi’s instincts flared. He spat out a bone mirror, directing it at Shi Hao. In an instant, holy light erupted from his forehead, a rune imprinting the void.
“It’s you!”
With a splash, Yao Yi surged from the spring, his gaze icy. He knew exactly who this was!
The others gasped, recognizing the holy light from his forehead.
“Descendant of Sinful Blood!”
“A filthy, lowly race tainted by sin—and with such a concentrated bloodline!”
Their expressions twisted with hatred, staring at Shi Hao as if he were some vile, inferior creature.
“Your mouths need shutting,” Shi Hao said coldly. In a blur, he vanished, leaving only an afterimage.
In the next moment, two Divine Flame Realm experts who had insulted the Sinful Blood lineage screamed, desperately countering.
But they were too slow.
*Smack!*
Both were struck—one’s left cheek split open, teeth and blood flying, the other’s jaw shattered, his face a bloody mess.
They spun three times before collapsing, their souls trembling in shock.
These were gods—yet they had been struck down like helpless mortals!
Not just those present, even the spectators outside were stunned. The elders of the Demon Dragon Sect turned ashen.
Just moments ago, they had mocked Shi Hao’s failure, calling his arrival suicidal.
Now, those slaps might as well have landed on their own faces.
“It was you! You killed our Heavenly God in the Spirit Realm!”
A young woman beside Yao Yi, her face twisted with rage, glared at Shi Hao with venomous hatred.
“Oh? How did you know? Weren’t we all in the trials back then? No one could’ve told you,” Shi Hao mused, his eyes gleaming.
The Demon Dragon Sect, Fire Cloud Cave, Celestial Court, and Netherworld—these major factions spanned multiple regions, sending disciples to different zones.
At that time, Yao Yi and these disciples weren’t in Sin Province. They shouldn’t have known.
Outside, the Demon Dragon Sect’s elders paled as other sects cast knowing glances.
Clearly, the sect had broken the rules—using forbidden means to communicate with their disciples near the Immortal Dao Flower Bud.
“You killed our Heavenly God Yun Meng. This debt will be settled!” someone hissed.
Not all by the spring had received the news. Only the key disciples knew. The others gasped in shock.
A Heavenly God had fallen? This was an unimaginable storm!
“You ugly freak, with your filthy, sinful blood—prepare to be erased!” the woman shrieked, clearly close to the deceased Heavenly God.
“Foolish,” Shi Hao murmured.
In the next instant, he moved like a shadow, striking at the woman.
“Sinful, imprisoned bloodline—die!” she screamed, summoning a bone umbrella that radiated white light, pressing down on Shi Hao.
The Heavenly Net Umbrella—a famed treasure, forged from divine bone. When opened, it bore down like the heavens, its surface dense with runes like stars.
Yet, Shi Hao’s hand flashed, severing the umbrella’s ribs. With a tug, the starry canopy shattered.
The Heavenly Net Umbrella—destroyed!
*Boom!*
Shi Hao’s kick twisted the void, the force terrifying.
Yao Yi, in his flood dragon form, swept his tail, pulling the woman back just in time.
The kick missed, but the shockwave sent nearby disciples tumbling.
“Incredible!”
Everyone’s hearts pounded. This skeletal, seemingly weak figure possessed terrifying power.
Shi Hao didn’t pursue. Instead, he appeared in the divine spring, sitting cross-legged, devouring its energy. His body blazed with light.
The sight stunned them—the fluctuations were too intense.
The spring’s liquid, thick and luminous, enveloped him. Pure divine essence flooded into his body like oil fueling flames.
In moments, his withered frame plumped slightly, shedding charred skin to reveal his true form.
“Stop him!”
Yao Yi struck first, transforming into human form. With a roar, dragon cries erupted, endless runes surging toward Shi Hao.
*Dragon’s Cry Shakes the Heavens!*
A supreme technique—the sheer force reduced the cliff behind Shi Hao to dust, distant mountains exploding.
Yet, Shi Hao stood firm. Even against a post-ascension progenitor, he held his ground. A barrier of light deflected the dragon’s cry, the runes passing harmlessly by.
*Whoosh!*
The disciples attacked, unleashing techniques and treasures, their brilliance like flames.
*Swoosh!*
Shi Hao vanished, reappearing to punch through a god’s body, reducing it to mist.
Like a phantom, he darted left and right, his charred skin peeling away to reveal jade-like flesh beneath.
*Thud! Thud!*
Six or seven experts fell, slain on the spot.
“Fight me! I’ll take your head!” Yao Yi bellowed, his fury boiling as his comrades fell.
“Gladly,” Shi Hao replied, halting. Though still gaunt, his true features emerged—pale, delicate, yet haggard.
His wounds, unhealed, gaped like holes. Yet within them, flames flickered, sacred light pulsing, making him seem transcendent.
“He… ascended?”
Not just those present, even the outsiders gasped.
They’d assumed his body was ruined, his divine foundation damaged. Yet here he was—a god, his wounds blazing with divine light, nourishing his entire being.
“Newly ascended, but not yet perfected. More refinement is needed,” Shi Hao said, smiling brightly.
The onlookers darkened. Ascended—and still seeking further evolution? What path was this?
“Yao Yi, kill him! Avenge our patriarch!” the woman screamed.
“Kill him!” others echoed.
They believed in Yao Yi’s invincibility—a progenitor, months into godhood, his divine flame blazing.
This youth, though ascended, was clearly wounded, his body riddled with holes, his vitality weak.
*Roar—*
Dragon cries like tidal waves, Yao Yi lunged, and the battle erupted.
Dozens of exchanges later, runes clashed, bone scripts intertwined, the world trembling under their force.
*Thud!*
Shi Hao struck again, felling another disciple.
“Sinful bloodline, cease your rampage!” Yao Yi roared, chasing Shi Hao.
But he was too slow. Shi Hao reached the woman, severing her arm with a swipe, then beheading her with a second.
*Ah—*
Her scream, filled with hatred and fear, ended abruptly.
“No!”
The outside world watched in horror. The Demon Dragon Sect’s elders turned deathly pale.
Earlier, they’d mocked Shi Hao’s failure, calling his arrival suicidal.
Now, reality had flipped their expectations upside down.
“Dragon Binds the Heavens!”
On the battlefield, only Yao Yi remained. Transforming into his flood dragon form, he unleashed his innate technique—a divine chain woven from his dragon sinew, lashing toward Shi Hao.
Shi Hao sidestepped, the chain severing a mountain instead. It looped back, relentless.
“Persistent. Then, die.”
Shi Hao’s 108 wounds blazed like miniature suns, his aura skyrocketing.
Divine power!
He formed seals, clashing with Yao Yi’s chain, sparks flying with each impact.
The spectators paled. This was a progenitor’s ultimate technique—yet Shi Hao met it bare-handed.
They blurred across the battlefield, mountains crumbling in their wake.
“Sinful, lowly bloodline—perish!” Yao Yi howled.
Dragon cries shook the world as he unleashed his full might, the divine chain finally coiling around Shi Hao, aiming to crush him.
*Boom!*
Golden wings erupted from Shi Hao’s back, dotted with black, a single flap snapping the chain.
*Ah—*
Yao Yi coughed blood, his innate technique shattered, power surging into his body.
The chain crumbled.
“I, too, have ascended. You’re no match,” Shi Hao said lightly, disdain clear.
Yao Yi, unwilling, burned his essence to break free—but couldn’t escape the Kun Peng’s domain locking him in place.
*Splat!*
A divine wing flashed, the world turning blindingly bright—
The Kun Peng’s wing severed Yao Yi’s head, blood painting the sky.
“No!”
“Ah—”
Outside, the Demon Dragon Sect wailed, some collapsing in despair.
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