On this battlefield, there are over a hundred races and thousands of gods, with combat power accumulating to ten thousand. Yang Hao is the only human here, and also the sole weakest life form.
But was mistaken for a savior!
“Him?” Almost everyone’s gaze was as sharp as a sword, ready to pierce through Yang Hao.
“It’s him!” Yun Shang remained calm, yet spoke with firm determination.
Then came the silence, a silence louder than thunder, the earth trembling. Yet Yang Hao looked up, shaking his head inexplicably at the dark clouds.
“Have you lost your mind, or are you trying to save this little brat?” Black Dragon finally broke the silence, coldly throwing out the words.
“We’ve waited so long, and finally, it’s here. Do I really need to say more?” Yun Shang stood with his hands clasped, his expression solemn. “Every god standing here knows exactly what has happened. The thread of fate lies between our own fingers—shall we let it slip away just for the sake of a little pride?”
“I don’t believe it!” The Black Dragon proudly raised its head, using this gesture to tell Yun Shang that no one could ever make the dragon race abandon their pride, no matter when.
Not only the Black Dragon disbelieved it—who in their right mind would believe such a thing? A mere human, with combat strength not even reaching level fifteen, who currently has no idea what the gods are talking about, is actually the savior of them all?
Yang Hao himself didn’t believe it, so how could others? His body endured countless gazes, yet he seemed to feel and hear nothing at all. He simply gazed at the sky, his eyes clear and serene.
Yun Shang didn’t offer any explanation. With a wave of his hand, three brilliant swords appeared in his palm. He remained silent, yet carefully inserted each sword one by one into the ground before him, arranging them side by side, as if they were something significant—so important that they spoke louder than words.
Of course, Yang Hao recognized these three swords; they were the legendary treasures he had fought fiercely to seize from the disciples of the Ten Sword Sect. They were the Light Sword Sect’s precious treasure sword, the Wang family’s immortal sword, and the Heifeng Sect’s gravity sword.
Originally, these three swords were all carried by Yang Hao himself, but he was tricked into giving them away by Xin Mei. He never expected they would end up in Yun Shang’s hands. Moreover, judging by the appearance, they seemed to be something quite important.
Indeed, when Yun Shang displayed three swords, a wave of astonishment immediately erupted across the battlefield. Whether from the side of light or darkness, everyone couldn’t help but gasp in shock, as if they had seen God himself.
The Black Dragon also kept its eyes fixed on the three swords, its massive body trembling several times, causing the earth to shake faintly. It seemed that the evidence presented by Yun Shang was indeed significant enough to prove Yang Hao’s so-called identity as the savior.
On the contrary, Yang Hao himself, the person involved, was still completely confused. He neither knew why so many powerful deities were searching for a savior, nor could he understand what was so special about those three swords that had been won as trophies, which even the knowledgeable gods found astonishing.
After Yun Shang displayed the sword, the task was accomplished. He remained standing there, smiling faintly, as if declaring to everyone that his judgment had been absolutely correct and that everything had already been destined.
However, even if irrefutable evidence is placed right in front of him, it cannot change Yang Hao’s identity as an ordinary person.
The body of the Black Dragon rumbled and trembled for a long time before finally turning its head again, fixing its gaze tightly on Yang Hao: “After all, he’s nothing but a lowly human, an ordinary person, not even a member of the lowest rank of the divine race. How can he possibly be our savior?! I refuse to believe it!”
“I believe!” a voice, grim yet resplendent, drifted down from the distant sky. It drew everyone’s gaze toward him.
At the highest sky, there was only one person present. At such an altitude, even dragons could not soar above him. For he was the King, the King of the Dark Angels.
A figure with twelve black wings, radiating light from head to toe, stood amidst dark clouds yet remained completely unobscured. The voice of Samael, the King of Dark Angels, was so clear and beyond question: “I believe in him.”
The Dragon’s black fangs clicked furiously, and a discontented roar erupted from its throat. However, it raised no further objections, for the one speaking now was the king of all Dark Angels—the mighty Sian, an upper divine race with a combat power of over ten thousand, one of the strongest in the universe.
In one-on-one combat, the Cathis Dragon Clan would not fear Sa’an. However, the Dark Angels under Sa’an’s command accounted for half of the demonic race’s military strength. Thus, the words spoken by such a person naturally carried authority.
This time, even Yun Shang was somewhat taken aback. He had indeed anticipated that the Dragon Clan would not believe, for their pride and dignity would absolutely never allow them to accept someone like Yang Hao, a mere human, to come to their rescue.
Ke Sa’an also possessed pride as lofty as the heavens; how could he possibly believe so easily? Yun Shang could not detect the slightest trace of emotion on the handsome face of the Dark Angel King, a visage that bore an icy coldness and a hint of sorrow.
“I believe what you said,” Sa An said to Yun Shang. Perhaps in Sa An’s heart, Yun Shang was the only one worth trusting, even if they were opponents. “But we must give him a test. If he passes, then we will offer him a chance.”
“Test?” Yun Shang’s heart tightened.
Just as he feared
Honestly speaking, the appearances of these dark angels are largely similar. Each one has a sharp, pointed chin and piercing blue eyes. Their hair is either golden blond or completely gray, cascading over their shoulders. They all wear silver battle robes. The biggest difference among them lies in the number of wings they have on their backs.
And now, the dark angel flying towards Yang Hao has four pitch-black wings on his back, indicating that he is a four-winged dark angel.
Yun Shang was visibly shaken. He almost lost his composure, pointing at the newcomer and shouting at Sa An, “Is this what you call a test? Sending Tian Qi into battle? Having a four-winged dark angel fight? He has over a hundred levels of combat power, practically equivalent to a mid-tier divine race member? What kind of test is this? It’s nothing short of a massacre!”
No wonder Yun Shang was so furious; even the divine beings around Yang Hao felt indignant. Although Tian Qi, the four-winged Dark Angel, was still categorized as a lower-tier deity, his combat power had long surpassed level 100. With four wings, his destructive strength far exceeded that of lower-tier deities like Xin Mei, making him a truly battle-oriented warrior. Pitting him against a human like Yang Hao, whose combat strength was merely at level 15, would result in a one-sided massacre.
In the sky, Sa’an still refused to look at the person and spoke indifferently, “If you can’t even defeat a four-winged dark angel, what kind of savior are you?”
In one sentence, Yun Shang was left speechless. Needless to say, no one from the Demon Race believed Yang Hao, and even Yun Shang’s own people didn’t see Yang Hao as their savior. If Yang Hao couldn’t even handle a Dark Angel with four wings, who wasn’t even the strongest among the Divine Race, then it would mark a complete failure for Yun Shang’s entire plan.
Yun Shang was truly suffering mentally. In this situation, it was utterly impossible to keep Yang Hao from fighting. But how could Yang Hao possibly stand a chance against a four-winged dark angel? Among the planets of the Earth system, a four-winged dark angel was nearly equivalent to the most powerful of demons. With merely a few swings of his broadsword, Tian Qi could easily cut Yang Hao into pieces, leaving that fellow not even the slightest chance to fight back.
Thinking thus, Yun Shang turned back. For now, the only option was to bring Yang Hao back first. He would rely on the remaining authority he still possessed, gambling that the demon race would not dare to provoke an actual war.
But when Yun Shang turned his head back, he was instantly terrified.
Yang Hao was no longer standing behind him, no longer sheltering him with his body. This man had suddenly become completely different from his earlier quiet demeanor when he was looking at the sky. His entire body surged upward, flying into the sky.
At this moment, Yang Hao’s situation was very peculiar. His clothes were tattered, yet his entire being seemed to radiate a brilliant glow. Silently, he drifted upwards toward the highest reaches of the sky, like a kite whose string had snapped—without purpose or direction, and without a fixed path, freely and effortlessly soaring upward.
No matter how Yang Hao flew, or how poor his flying technique was, everyone understood that he indeed had a goal—a destination in his heart. That was the Dark Angel King Sa’an, standing atop the clouds with infinite majesty, thunder and lightning beneath his feet.
Sa Anzheng stands supreme over the land, perched at the very peak of the storm. He looms like a deity who commands the clouds and lightning, gazing coldly at Yang Hao.
The King of Dark Angels flew too high. Such an altitude was listed as a forbidden zone within the divine realm—not because others were incapable of flying up there, but because they dared not. This height was exclusively reserved for Sa’an; anyone who dared to intrude would face certain death. This glory, this pride—no one else was worthy of understanding it.
Yang Hao now wanted to fly up to the same height as Sa’an. He had almost made it, but unfortunately, his strength was truly too weak. A swordsman with only fifteenth-level combat power attempting to reach the sky of a King with ten-thousand-level strength was simply overestimating himself. When he was still nearly two hundred meters away from his goal, Yang Hao had already exhausted his strength. No matter how hard he tried, he could not ascend even a single inch further.
Sighing helplessly, he turned over his wrist. A force was silently emitted, actually lifting Yang Hao upward.
Finally, Yang Hao had at last stood at the same level as Sa’an. In this world, probably no one else had dared to stand face-to-face with Sa’an at the same height—yet Yang Hao had done exactly that.
This guy was actually chewing the Spring Elixir pills as if they were peanuts, while boldly pointing at Sa’an and saying, “What’s the point of fighting that four-winged fellow? If we’re going to fight, I’d rather fight you.”
“Fighting with me?” Sai An narrowed his eyes. He actually admired Yang Hao’s demeanor.
Yet, the ground was in an uproar. Whether the divine race or the demon race, all were either shocked or furious. Especially the dark angels, each of them drew their broadswords, eager to rush forward and tear apart Yang Hao, this arrogant young man who didn’t know his place. If it weren’t for the height at which Yang Hao was currently hovering—beyond their reach—Yang Hao probably wouldn’t have even had the chance to speak his next sentence.
Yang Hao’s next sentence was even more offensive: “Your wings are so delicious, they must smell amazing when roasted.”
Sa An remained unmoved and expressionless.
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