His heart was on high alert, yet his flying speed did not diminish in the slightest as he raced at full speed toward the distant axe.
The tattered man standing mid-air had a third eye open on his forehead, its pupil faintly reflecting the distant figure of Dongbo Xueying flying at breakneck speed.
“Cleave,” the tattered man said coldly.
Dongbo Xueying, who had been flying swiftly, suddenly felt a surge of alarm. “Not good!”
His body twisted violently in response.
“Riiip—”
The space around him shattered like glass, a jagged black fissure tearing through the void. The spatial rift grazed past his contorted form, sending a shiver of death down his spine.
“This pocket dimension was crafted by that ancestor—it’s incredibly stable. None of the previous battles caused such destruction.” Aside from the sheer power of the attack, what shocked Dongbo Xueying most was its abruptness. The tattered man was millions of miles away, yet the strike had descended without warning. Only when the void began to tear did he sense it, barely managing to twist his body and narrowly escape.
Whoosh.
Despite the danger, Dongbo Xueying pressed forward at full speed.
“Lucky you, dodging that?” The tattered man sneered before his third eye locked onto Dongbo Xueying once more.
“Riiip—”
Another long gash split the void, this time grazing the tip of Dongbo Xueying’s nose and shearing off a few strands of hair. Yet again, he barely evaded.
“Hmm?” The tattered man frowned in the distance. Two close calls in a row had made him impatient.
“Again.” He launched a third attack, his newly formed third eye reflecting Dongbo Xueying once more.
Sensing the shift in space, Dongbo Xueying twisted desperately to dodge.
Riiip—
A black fissure over ten thousand miles long but only a hundred meters wide twisted through the air.
Despite his evasive efforts, this time, the rift scraped across half his body.
“Thud—” The fissure hesitated slightly as it met his black armor, giving him a split second to shift his body—but then it tore through.
His left arm and a portion of his left waist vanished into thin air.
“Argh!”
The impact sent him tumbling mid-air, but he quickly stabilized and resumed his desperate flight toward the distant axe. His waist wound healed rapidly, and his left arm began regenerating.
“Even the Dark Ice Armor couldn’t withstand that.” Dongbo Xueying paled. With no other choice, a flying dagger materialized in his right hand.
A True God artifact—his deadliest weapon.
He had been confident in his defenses, but now he was forced to resort to the dagger. Yet he remembered the white-haired elder’s warning: this “Supreme World God” could digest True God artifacts. That was why he had hesitated to use it.
“Go!”
He could hesitate no longer.
The dagger vanished, traversing the Void Realm in an instant.
“Hmph, thought you could keep dodging?” The tattered man prepared another strike, his third eye locking onto Dongbo Xueying—until, in a flash, the dagger emerged from the Void Realm right before him.
The tattered man had sensed it the moment Dongbo Xueying drew it.
Master of the void, he was fully aware. But his arrogance was boundless—his body was indestructible. What harm could a mere dagger do? He ignored it entirely.
“Boom!”
Infused with Dongbo Xueying’s full power and the Dao of Slaughter, the strike—*Blood-Tipped Blade*—pierced toward the third eye.
“Fool.” The tattered man simply closed his eye.
Thud.
The dagger’s tip struck his forehead, its momentum halting abruptly. Yet it still managed to pierce an inch deep before being forcibly stopped. Purple blood, streaked with gold, trickled from the wound. The tattered man’s face twisted in fury.
“Buzz—” The dagger struggled violently, trying to withdraw, but it remained lodged.
“What?!” Dongbo Xueying’s heart sank. He couldn’t retrieve it!
The tattered man yanked the dagger free and, with a casual flick of his wrist, swallowed it whole.
Dongbo Xueying’s blood ran cold. “He… ate it?”
This was exactly why he had hesitated.
But without it, he’d be dead—and all his treasures would be lost anyway.
“Haah.”
Despite his fury, he raced onward. The dagger was gone, but he *had* to reach that axe.
The tattered man’s third eye reopened, its pupil marred by a rapidly healing wound.
“Damn you.” He glared at Dongbo Xueying. At this distance, pursuit was futile—only his killing strikes could stop him now.
Dongbo Xueying flew faster, the axe drawing nearer.
Losing the True God dagger was a blow…
But it had bought him time. The tattered man’s injury and recovery delay meant three or four attacks’ worth of breathing room.
“Faster, faster!” The tattered man seethed as his pupil mended.
“I’m here!”
Dongbo Xueying gritted his teeth, pushing his limits as he surged toward the mountain peak.
“Riiip—” The moment the eye healed, another void-rending strike came.
“Faster!” Dongbo Xueying pushed beyond his limits, twisting as the rift grazed his knee—shearing off everything below it. Yet he flew on, reaching the summit and seizing the axe.
Crash.
He pulled—but the axe resisted for a heartbeat. Kneeling on the peak, his legs regenerating, he wrenched it free with both hands.
With a final heave, the golden axe tore loose.
Standing firm, Dongbo Xueying raised the axe, locking eyes with the tattered man.
The man stood frozen, then sighed.
“I won. Return my dagger,” Dongbo Xueying demanded.
“This?” The tattered man spat out a glimmer—a twisted, scarred blade.
Dongbo Xueying stared in disbelief. “How…? It’s already ruined?”
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