The eyelids of Emperor Yan twitched slightly before slowly opening, revealing a pair of silver eyes that gazed upon the scaled giant in the grand hall. “Has Wufeng arrived?”
“Indeed. He brought six subordinates with him. I showed myself to drive him away, but Emperor Wufeng actually dared to strike back,” the scaled giant muttered. The minor burns it had suffered had long since healed.
Emperor Yan’s control over this floating island had reached an extraordinary level. By tapping into the dark energy that permeated every corner of the island, he could sense a strand of ‘wind’ swiftly traversing the land. This wind appeared gentle and silent, yet concealed an overwhelming force within.
“Hmph.” Emperor Yan flicked his claws lightly.
The scene in midair distorted, revealing a location on the island where a swirling mass of wind was moving at high speed.
Within this wind were Emperor Wufeng, Dongbo Xueying, and five Divine Generals. At the moment, Dongbo Xueying’s aura was disguised to match that of the five Divine Generals beside him.
“Again! He truly refuses to give up,” Emperor Yan muttered, a trace of killing intent flashing between his brows. He was an exceedingly proud being. Though his individual strength ranked only in the middle among the Thirteen Emperors, his vast army of elite subordinates allowed him to look down upon the other twelve. His status among the Deathblight Clan was somewhat akin to that of Emperor Beihe. Like Emperor Beihe, who commanded thirty-six Divine Generals, Emperor Yan also ruled over a formidable force—though Emperor Beihe himself stood just a step below the level of a Paragon.
“He can’t be killed, yet he keeps coming back to stir trouble,” Emperor Yan growled in frustration.
“All of you—come here!”
Emperor Yan’s voice boomed, echoing directly into the ears of every Elder scattered across the floating island.
Whoosh! Whoosh! Whoosh!
Upon hearing the summons of their Ancestor Yan, the Elders rushed over without delay—even those who had been in deep slumber awoke and hurried to obey.
After a considerable wait—those who had been asleep were inevitably slower—Emperor Yan finally looked down upon the assembled group. “All present? You see now—Emperor Wufeng has returned to my floating island!”
Below him stood a total of fifty-five Elders, the entirety of Emperor Yan’s forces. The Deathblight Clan rarely ventured beyond their territories, spending most of their time cultivating, sleeping, or feasting. When they did act, it was usually to hunt for resources—to devour. As Emperor Yan’s subordinates, none were permitted to leave the island without his express permission.
Now, they too saw the scene projected in midair—the swirling wind containing Emperor Wufeng and his seven companions.
“Emperor Wufeng truly has no shame. After fleeing in disgrace last time, he dares to return.”
“How many times has he been beaten back?”
“His ‘Wufeng’ bloodline grants him incredible survivability. Even when we enlisted Emperor Yi’s help, and with Ancestor Yan and Emperor Yi joining forces alongside our combined assault, we still couldn’t kill him.”
The Elders seethed with anger.
“Allowing Wufeng to reach my palace would be troublesome,” Emperor Yan mused, seated cross-legged upon his throne. “Elder Qi, proceed with the usual plan. Lead twenty-one Elders to intercept Wufeng. Depart at once!”
“As you command,” replied a tall, gaunt Elder with deeply wrinkled black skin. Elder Qi swept his gaze across the group. “Let us move.”
“Let’s go.”
“Let’s see what tricks Emperor Wufeng has this time.”
The group of twenty-two Elders—some humanoid, some bestial, some towering, others diminutive—all exuded immense, overwhelming auras. Among Emperor Yan’s fifty-five Elders, these were the ones with the most formidable physiques, capable of enduring even the direst threats.
Dealing with Emperor Wufeng had become routine for them.
First, dispatch twenty-two physically dominant Elders—each at the level of a Divine General. Together, they could hold their ground even against a Paragon for a time. Against Emperor Wufeng and his subordinates, they could entangle and probe his true strength. Emperor Wufeng never came without some hidden trump card.
“Hmph.” Emperor Yan sat upon his crystalline jade bed, his silver-white eyes coldly fixed upon the unfolding scene in midair.
—
Emperor Wufeng, Dongbo Xueying, and their group of seven had been traveling at high speed for some time before their enemies finally appeared.
“Boom—!”
In an instant, twenty-two Elders teleported into existence, their arrival throwing the surrounding energy into chaos.
“Emperor Wufeng! You dare return?”
“What new tricks do you have this time?”
“Last time, I kicked your backside—do you want another?”
“Hahaha! Taste my axe!”
“Last time, I devoured half of one of your Divine Generals—delicious! If you’d been slower, we’d have eaten them all alive!”
The Deathblight Elders wasted no time in attacking. Each unleashed their unique techniques, instantly turning the surrounding space into a roiling, chaotic maelstrom. Yet, despite their taunts directed at Emperor Wufeng, their attacks all deliberately avoided him—instead focusing on the six figures beside him.
They knew full well that attacking Emperor Wufeng was futile. Only by slaying one of his Divine Generals could they truly make him suffer.
“Hmph.”
Emperor Wufeng, however, took the initiative.
His left hand stretched forward, and the already turbulent battlefield was suddenly filled with countless streams of energy—billowing currents that entangled every Elder present. Each Elder found themselves bound by these currents, their strength slightly diminished.
Upon closer inspection, each stream was composed of countless razor-sharp filaments—capable of slicing through even an invincible cultivator’s body with ease.
Yet against these Elders, the technique merely served as a minor hindrance, reducing their combat effectiveness by ten to twenty percent. Undeterred, they pressed forward. Emperor Wufeng’s five Divine Generals retaliated in unison, while Emperor Wufeng himself drew the blade at his waist. His sword-light transformed into a tempest, enveloping the Elders.
“Brother Feixue, it’s your turn,” Emperor Wufeng said, glancing at Dongbo Xueying beside him.
“Understood.” Dongbo Xueying smiled. He had been waiting for this moment.
His gaze shifted to the twenty-two rampaging Elders locked in combat with Emperor Wufeng and his forces.
Hum—
The Illusory Realm of the Void descended!
This first killing technique of the Void Illusion Dao was a world crafted from the deepest desires of every living being—so real it bordered on tangible. In a sense, Dongbo Xueying’s illusion was reality itself. Were he willing to pay the price, any life within it could manifest in the true world.
The twenty-two Elders, moments ago locked in frenzied battle, now found their souls dragged into this terrifying illusion. One by one, they succumbed.
In an instant—
Seven Elders fell completely. Eleven struggled to maintain consciousness, retaining only ten to twenty percent of their strength. Only four managed to hold onto roughly thirty percent of their power. This wasn’t because their willpower surpassed that of the Skeletal Divine General, but because the Deathblight Elders possessed extraordinarily resilient bodies. Their physical prowess allowed them to retain more strength despite the mental strain.
In truth, the willpower of Emperor Yan’s Elders was generally slightly inferior to that of Emperor Beihe’s thirty-six Divine Generals.
“Capture them!” Emperor Wufeng, prepared for this moment, immediately began seizing the incapacitated foes.
The seven fully ensnared Elders were the easiest—swiftly taken.
The eleven with only a fraction of their strength left were already outmatched by Emperor Wufeng. Now, the gap was insurmountable. Bound by his energy streams, they were captured without resistance.
In the blink of an eye, eighteen had been imprisoned.
The four retaining thirty percent of their strength required Emperor Wufeng to personally strike. His blade flashed like lightning, entangling each Elder. Even when they attempted to disperse and flee, the relentless wind infiltrated their very essence. One slash each—all four were subdued.
—
High upon his crystalline jade bed, Emperor Yan watched the scene unfold in midair with his silver-white eyes.
The remaining thirty-some Elders observed as well, eager to discern Emperor Wufeng’s tactics. Understanding his methods would dictate their next move.
“What?!” Emperor Yan’s composed expression shattered into shock. He stared in disbelief at the scene before him.
Eighteen Elders—captured in an instant.
The remaining four—each felled by a single stroke. Emperor Wufeng’s blade was too swift. Before Emperor Yan could react, the entire dispatched force had been taken alive.
“How… how is this possible?” Emperor Yan trembled. Never had he faced such a situation. Not even against a Paragon had he been so thoroughly outmaneuvered.
“Ancestor Yan! I know! That white-robed youth—he must be the legendary Emperor Feixue! It must be him! Emperor Feixue!” Among the remaining Elders, one with a beast’s body and a human head shrieked in terror.
The once-silent hall now echoed with the Elder’s shrill cry: “It must be him! Emperor Feixue!”
Emperor Yan whirled toward the speaker, his voice a thunderous roar. “Speak! Who is this Emperor Feixue? Why have I never heard of him?”
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