Upon the great gate enveloped in dark mist, Xiao Yan sat cross-legged, his gaze filled with scorn towards the suddenly enraged Hun Yuantian. Back then, had Hun Yuantian engaged him right after dragging him into the Gate of Eternal Silence, it is quite possible that Xiao Yan would have suffered suppression. However, this fool acted arrogantly, assuming that the deadly aura permeating within the Gate itself would gradually weaken Xiao Yan without any interference. What he hadn’t expected, however, was that not only was Xiao Yan protected from that deadly force by the Devouring Flame, but that the youth would successfully pinpoint where Hun Yuantian’s soul tablet lay hidden deep within the Silent Gate…
This soul tablet could indeed be seen as the utmost precious essence within the Silent Gate. Hun Yuantian had taken every precaution concealing it, though he neglected a crucial factor—the soul realm of Xiao Yan had already ascented to Emperor Realm. With merely a single focused impulse of will, Xiao Yan’s might effortlessly traversed the entire realm inside the Gate, laying wide bare any concealment the stone employed—rendering it utterly helpless. Once Xiao Yan located the tablet and confirmed his soul’s strength far exceeded his enemy’s, erasing Hun Yuantian’s mark upon it became a trivial act.
This shortcoming would usually pose little problem, except it was extremely rare across the nine heavens and ten realms for a single individual to have attained Emperor-level soul mastery, making this an extremely foolish and unforgivable mistake on Hun’s part—an error costing him dominion of the Eternal Silent Gate forever.
“Xiao Yan, I’ll shred you in pieces!” Hun Yuantian hissed from hatred, his entire arm rising abruptly while thick swaths of black qi amassed violently within his palms; waves of putridity akin to death’s own stench expanded quickly.
“Hmph!” Witnessing this, Xiao Yan scoffed coldly. Arising abruptly, his hand seals flickered at a dizzying pace—summoning forth immediately a colossal ethereal image towering nearly a thousand feet, whose soul tremors radiated in torrential waves. The surrounding air quivered violently, heralded by an indescribable oppressive presence.
A figure emerged not just colossal but no longer phantasmic—as its towering frame shimmered with undulating waves that now bore substance. It no less embodied the embodiment of a sovereign over souls.
Across the battlefield’s expanse, waves of might rippled outward; even the majority from each side’s elite combatants instinctively stumbled back in fear as the impulse to collapse onto knees seized deep to the very marrow of their bones.
The sky roared and then abruptly fell silent beneath the sound of a primal bellow, unleashing from the lips of an imposing apparition what resembled real-world soul-force. With a speed seemingly surpassing even that of light, waves thunderously slammed into Hung Yuantian, panic flaring wide in his gaze—without any chance left to counteract, the impact ruptured his eardrums; blood spilled immediately as concussive bursts detonated from all corners over his stricken frame, leaving him to release a wailing cough of essence, his face ghost pale as his spirit was mortally wounded.
The echoes of that soul-impact rippled forward unrelented—toppling countless Hun clan cultivators. Some who lacked sufficient cultivation found their souls utterly eradicated instantly—a terrifying potency borne from Emperior-grade consciousness manifesting. Through the very heavens, those force waves wiped the sky nearly clean as the former chaotic battlefield now found itself halted at the brink of annihilation.
None could disguise their shock and awe as all gathered beheld anew the sky-piercing titanic being, while at the battlefield’s very edges thick clouds churned restivly, discharging waves of palpable deadliness with eerie clarity.
CRASH!
A tremor split the sky as three tremendous pulses collided overhead—a torrent of jet black flame igniting outward in fiery arcs. Figures streaked backward—slight disarray evident amidst them. They were eventually recognized as Lei Ying and Yan Jin.
Meanwhile—against both their expectations—his opposition was revealed to have merely been Xuwu Tunyan, and from the look of things even uniting might proved of minor leverage. Indeed, those of ninth-rank Dou Sage ranking were no mere legends—not to consider one whose power cannot even truly rival the measure of any typical ninth star, his terrifying absorption energy surpassing conventional boundaries. A force powerful enough to dominate his equals.
Recovering their energies with grave expressions, Lei and Jin gazed toward one another—frustration evident. For despite employing every tactic available, not even a draw surfaced between them and the threat ahead. Prolonged conflict without victory may result in injury on their side.
“This confrontation drags. Truly, the Hun strength outmatches our expectation.”
Taking opportunity, Lei scanned across the battlefield; the sky painted heavy with thunder-clan casualties—a bitter loss he swallowed without option as the battlefield cruel.
Yan nodded grimly; the situation promised nothing short of bloodshed beyond their imagining. Whatever the costs, some fragments had to be recovered, for all understood what would unfold should Hun successfully unearth Ti Sha Di Emperor’s hidden realm while holding dominion over ascension beyond even dou saintly comprehension—in that case, annihilation would swiftly visit upon all.
“We won’t back off yet…” exchanging a glance—mutual understanding flashed within both hardened eyes. The advantage of numbers remained theirs.
For hundreds, even countless millennia the Huns plotted for the Ancient Seal fragments. Expect its fruition undone so effortlessly?—Xuwu chuckled low. The figure appeared soundlessly, standing upon the invisible void between foes—a cold whisper punctuating the stalemate once more.
Lei and Yan flinched in recognition—a hurried call breaking between their intent as the echo of another’s voice rang sharply near:
“Pull back! The scene is shifting.”
At that sound both stiffened. They recognized instantly—the urgency in it…from Gu Yuan himself.
The sky moaned once, like an ancient whisper stirred by dark winds. The encroaching shroud above writhed—spilling across its vast canvas wave upon cold soul-chilling air.
“Ahhh… finally complete.” Xuwu exhaled, lifting gaze as relief spread within his being. Indeed, despite his side outnumbered the union of clans plus Tianfu Alliance remained troubling. If delay persisted too long…many Hun warriors faced oblivion.
The sound thickened.
Then from within the clouds, an eerie aura began surfacing—a malevolent presence beyond imagination’s scope. The entire battlefield raised their wary gazes.
Suddenly from within—multiple black shadows erupted sky high, scattering the air violently—hovering precisely in all critical corners around the battlefront above.
“…Co-coffins?”
Staring toward the figures released amidst curling mist and smoke—a shiver passed among warriors—the ominous vessels…ebbing malevolently through the air was unmistakble; three shadow-black sarcophagi, oozing a dread beyond comprehension through the air.
CRASHHH!
Suddenly three shadowy lids lifted forcefully from each frame, each unveiling its interior as from within stepped thin spectral forms clad like hollow, bony figures—a presence greater even than the previously formidable Hun Yuansian.
“Reverend Hun Shengtian… Hun Yao? Impossible! These old fiends must have long ceased to roam Heaven’s breath!” Eyes shrunk sharply, disbelief painted clearly on both Lei Ying’s and Yan Jin’s faces. Once ancient among the ancients of Hun—predating in hierarchy even Hun Tiandi—they should already have been consigned to the after-world long before, yet now they reappeared—as fresh echoes of the abyss.
Cai Lin and Qing Yan inhaled sharply in synchronized tension.
Another trio of eighth star dou sages? Not only so—they rivaled Lei and Yan Jin’s own might to equal measure…something deeply amiss stirred within their spiritual sense—their scent reeking far worse than even Hun Yuantiam’s.
“Could it be…these…undead beings?” Xiao Yan thought in a murmur, pulse quickening suddenly.
Resurrected corpses. The term surfaced, like pupal entities. Though far advanced than basic marionettes. Reawakened via an enigmatic art—restoring life to those long fallen. Rare and highly unreliable methods, it usually left corpses untouched for obvious ethical reverence and respect.
Yet clearly—the Hun discovered dark ritual, reawakening these warriors long lost. Their hidden force emerged—the fourth eight-star dou sage now aligned against all others…
Their plan unveiled!
“Celestial Malignity, Field of Eternal Death!” they cried in chorus, their mouths opening together as a triplet of orbs flew outward. They rapidly expanded into black gates of equal magnitude—towering structures pulsating malevolent death force—a trinity more of Eternal Silent Gates manifested.
These three gates formed an enclosing circle across key coordinates of the battlefield, while from them poured a death aura sufficiet to enwrap all in its grasp.
Almost immediately, the allied cultivatory warriors began finding essence itself draining mysteriously.
“This is it!” Both Lei Ying and Yan Jin cried aloud; realization dawning upon their grim features.
“Soul Formation—return to formation—complete the Ritual of the Silent Gates!”
One husklike old spirit roared sharply to the injured Hun Yuantian still struggling in retreat.
“Escape, now!” His voice shook both leaders even more deeply.
For once the full circle completes—the price to allies would soar into irreversible devastation.
“Quick! Get back!” Roared desperately as Hun Yuantian flew upward, his complexion fluctuated from green with rage to red with horror. For his tongue stiffened upon the next words, revealing the blow of ultimate truth:
“The Silent Gate has been seized by that brat… Xiao Yan!”
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