Chapter 632: Clash of Arms

Within the cave world.

The aura emanating from the barefoot man in tattered clothes made the entire cave world tremble. With a sudden burst of force beneath his feet—boom!—the icy mountain beneath him immediately crumbled by half, yet he transformed into a streak of golden light, charging straight forward. The sheer speed of it left Dongbo Xueying stunned. “Just his flight speed alone is three times faster than mine—comparable to a top-tier Venerable.”

“And the trouble is, he controls the entire space of this cave world. I can’t even mobilize the power of the world,” Dongbo Xueying thought to himself.

If he could mobilize the world’s power, he would have simply manifested a world avatar near the axe and pulled it out directly.

“Sky-Mist Prison.” Dongbo Xueying willed it, and Taihao energy surged from his body, countless white streams of light flying outward.

“This is my domain,” the tattered man halted mid-charge, his eyes flashing with cold light.

Hum.

The entire cave world’s void instantly filled with countless waves of frigid energy, the temperature plummeting. The vast land below began to freeze over, and even the Taihao energy flying through the air was frozen solid with a series of cracks. Snowflakes appeared everywhere, drifting gently, each one infused with power far surpassing Taihao energy.

The snowflakes filled every inch of space, leaving Dongbo Xueying no room to evade. He could only endure with his body, the Taihao energy coating his black armor unable to resist. The snowflakes settled on the armor’s surface.

However, the black armor, a masterpiece of the Island Master of Lakeheart, easily withstood the assault.

“These snowflakes are terrifying. My Taihao energy is frozen and dissipating,” Dongbo Xueying marveled. “And they’re everywhere. Any weaker fourth-level cultivator would be frozen to death instantly.”

A life-and-death struggle—no exaggeration.

Now, the vast land was blanketed in silver, snowflakes swirling everywhere. The tattered man hovered in the air, sneering. “Interesting. I thought you’d freeze to death right away.”

In his memories, this move alone had frozen countless opponents to death.

“Realm of the Heart!” Dongbo Xueying willed it, unleashing the only illusionary technique among his five secret arts. Having long resided in Blackmist Sea, he often meditated on the illusory worlds within the black mist. Over the years, he had developed a terrifying illusionary technique—one that could ensnare even ordinary mighty figures if their mental cultivation was lacking.

The brilliance of this technique lay in its simplicity: resistance depended solely on the soul.

Was the soul strong enough? Was the mental cultivation profound enough?

Fail, and one would be lost in the Realm of the Heart, easily slain by Dongbo Xueying.

“Whoosh—”

Dongbo Xueying’s gaze pierced the distance.

An intangible ripple spread, instantly invading the mind of the tattered, barefoot man. The moment it did, Dongbo Xueying felt a surge of joy. “He actually has a soul? Perfect!”

Since his opponent was a creation of the Ancestor who forged the Primordial Land, implanted with memories but not truly alive, Dongbo Xueying had feared he might be akin to a puppet—soulless, rendering his illusionary technique far less effective. But upon invasion, he sensed something akin to a True God’s heart within the man.

“Your illusion is impressive,” the tattered man said coldly, his eyes filled with killing intent. “But I’ve suffered three times from illusions in my growth. Later, I obtained a treasure to guard my soul, leaving no weakness. You might as well surrender to death.”

With that, the tattered man closed in rapidly.

Dongbo Xueying retreated while thinking, anxiety gnawing at him. “No weakness in his soul? How do I fight this? No matter—just delay long enough to reach that axe. Pull it out, and I win.”

He fled through the air, but the tattered man was far faster. The distance between them shrank rapidly.

“Die.” The tattered man threw a punch, his fist blurring into a golden streak, his arm elongating unnaturally. The strike crossed the distance in an instant, arriving before Dongbo Xueying.

“So fast,” Dongbo Xueying thought, startled. “Not as overwhelming as the golden-furred ape of the Ancestral Cult, but faster.”

He raised his Crimson Cloud Spear with both hands to block.

Boom!

As Dongbo Xueying’s spear moved, the illusion of a massive rotating meteor appeared. The golden fist collided with the “meteor,” shattering the illusion instantly. Dongbo Xueying and his spear were sent flying, crashing through a distant mountain and leaving a gaping hole before finally stopping.

“Hmm?” The tattered man looked surprised. “He blocked my punch head-on?”

At the edge of the cave world, the white-haired elder watching leisurely raised an eyebrow. “This newcomer isn’t just skilled in cultivation—his strength is notable too. There might still be hope for him.”

Meanwhile, Dongbo Xueying, flung far away, was equally shocked.

“With the Taihao and Annihilation Extreme Body techniques, my strength alone is at the Venerable level. My self-created defensive secret art, ‘Meteor Star,’ is derived from Lakeheart’s countless meteor formations. Plus, my armor—yet his punch still made my blood boil.”

The countless meteor formations were Lakeheart’s defensive array, unparalleled in protection.

During his training in Blackmist Sea, Dongbo Xueying had often communicated with the members of the Annihilation Legion, exchanging insights and requesting information on the meteor formations.

Those lonely warriors had been eager to help.

“The meteor formations? We at Lakeheart have studied them endlessly, each recording fragments. But none grasp the full picture—only the master knows the complete truth.”

“Here’s what I’ve observed.”

“Brother Dongbo, take my records.”

Their enthusiasm had been overwhelming.

Through their discussions, Dongbo Xueying had delved into the formations, perceiving the world’s mysteries within them. Eventually, he synthesized his defensive secret art—Meteor Star.

He had believed that with his strength, armor, and spear techniques, he could withstand even White Monarch for a few more exchanges.

“This guy’s cultivation level is ordinary—just a typical fourth-level, inferior to my father-in-law or Senior Brother Huiming,” Dongbo Xueying mused. “Yet his punch, even after my spear deflected ninety percent of its force, still shattered my stance and shook me through my armor.”

“Pure strength, pure speed,” Dongbo Xueying sighed.

Low cultivation, but overwhelming power and speed.

“Still alive?” The tattered man, furious, charged again.

Dongbo Xueying continued toward the axe while defending.

Boom! Boom! Boom!

Each clash sent Dongbo Xueying flying, utterly suppressed. Yet his strength and spear mastery allowed him to endure.

“Almost there.”

Though battered, Dongbo Xueying was steadily closing in on the axe.

Whoosh.

The tattered man suddenly stopped, glaring coldly.

Dongbo Xueying ignored him, pressing onward.

“Few opponents force me to use forbidden arts. You’ve earned the honor. Brace yourself.” The tattered man formed a seal, the intricate purple-gold patterns on his body flaring to life. A terrifying surge of energy converged at his brows, gathering at the center of his forehead.

A third eye opened—identical to the other two.

Yet when it fixed on Dongbo Xueying, a chill ran down his spine. He cursed inwardly. “Another trump card? His cultivation is weaker than mine—how is he this strong? Where did the Primordial Land’s Ancestor find such a monster?”