Chapter 806: The Spirit Realm

The Spirit Realm, ancient and boundless, stretched endlessly across time.

“Boom!”

Shi Hao appeared, landing on the ground.

This was a marshland, dotted with pools of water and muddy lakes, yet towering trees grew here as well, their sprawling branches blotting out the sky.

The trees were sparse, spaced far apart, leaving vast open stretches between them with little other vegetation. The swamp was thick with yin energy, and sunlight rarely pierced through.

The Spirit Realm felt so real—once inside, one could detect no anomalies, as if it were no different from the outside world.

“What purpose did the ancient gods have in constructing such a vast world with their spiritual power?” Shi Hao frowned, growing increasingly convinced that there must be some monumental secret hidden within.

The lower realm had the Void God Realm, while the upper realm had the Spirit Realm. In essence, they were the same, differing only in name.

A true divine realm forged by the ancient gods? The more Shi Hao learned, the less likely that seemed. But then, what was its purpose? It was difficult to discern, and the implications could be immense.

But now was not the time for distraction. He had already entered the battlefield, a participant in this trial, and enemies could strike at any moment.

Sure enough, around him, the air trembled with continuous booms as the void blurred, and figures descended one after another into the marshland, clad in gleaming armor, their killing intent palpable.

“Whoosh!”

Someone struck the moment they appeared, attacking those nearby without hesitation.

Treasure artifacts clashed, runes surged into the sky, trees shattered, and mud splattered in all directions.

“Ah—!”

A scream rang out as the first Sovereign met his demise. A glowing chain coiled around his neck, symbols pulsing along its length before erupting in a flash of light.

“Thud!”

A head rolled to the ground, severed by the radiant chain, blood splashing as it slithered away like a serpent.

The battle had barely begun, yet blood already stained the battlefield, marking the start of the slaughter.

In an instant, the number of combatants surged. Though there was ample space between them, the marshland, once silent, now teemed with figures, their killing intent sweeping through like a storm.

“Kill!”

Acting in unison, whether for self-preservation or competition, these Sovereigns turned on those around them. Here, there was no room for mercy.

The law of survival of the fittest, brutal and bloody, was now in full play.

“Boom!”

Shi Hao raised his hand and sent a sneaking Sovereign flying with a single strike. The man exploded midair, dissolving into a shower of light. The sight sent a ripple of fear through those nearby.

With movements as swift as thunder, he had effortlessly obliterated a powerful foe, making others wary of engaging him.

Though the marshland was vast, it couldn’t accommodate all participants—this was just one zone among many battlefields stretching into the distance.

Upon entering the Spirit Realm, the combatants were scattered across eighty battlefields, each adjacent to the next.

Eight million Sovereigns—what did that number even mean? A sea of warriors, dense as dragons churning the ocean, their presence shaking the heavens.

At this moment, Shi Hao could sense the interconnected battlefields, a vast will and bloodlust surging through them, resonating with the collective force of all Sovereigns.

A radiant pearl shot toward the back of Shi Hao’s head, transforming into a golden streak, its bone runes illuminating the surroundings.

Shi Hao turned, raising his hand to deflect the dragon-eye-sized golden pearl. A deafening clang rang out, sparks flying as the impact shattered nearby trees and sent mud exploding outward like tidal waves.

This was a divine artifact!

Otherwise, it would never have withstood Shi Hao’s strike—and it was a rare treasure at that.

Within the golden pearl, a flood dragon writhed, its claws bared. Upon impact, it broke free, manifesting a colossal draconic body that crashed down with terrifying force.

“Thud!”

Dozens of Sovereigns were struck by the massive dragon, bones snapping as they vomited blood. Some died instantly, vanishing into motes of light.

“Boom!”

Even the mountains within the marshland were not spared—one particularly massive peak crumbled under the dragon’s assault, sending boulders tumbling.

“A Flood Dragon Pearl, imprisoning its essence. A remarkable artifact indeed. Pity this is the Spirit Realm—otherwise, I could grind it into powder for medicinal use,” Shi Hao mused.

“Kill!”

A man in purple robes, adorned with a dragon insignia—likely the mark of a major sect—glared coldly, his killing intent undiminished. He had not expected his golden flood dragon pearl, a weapon of great lethality, to fail in slaying his opponent.

Shi Hao cared not for his identity. Back in the Void God Realm, he had hunted down even elders—how much less would he hesitate against someone of the same rank now?

“Whoosh!”

He transformed into a streak of divine light, diving forward, a pair of thunderous wings manifesting on his back. With a deafening crack, a thick bolt of lightning shot forth.

“Ah—!”

The purple-robed man screamed as half his body was charred black, sending him flying backward, robes tattered, blood spilling from his lips.

Shi Hao was surprised. Few Sovereigns could survive even a single strike from him—this man was indeed no ordinary foe.

In a flash, he closed the distance, following up with a kick that unleashed ten arcs of lightning, each capable of piercing through a Sovereign.

“Roar!”

The flood dragon surged through the air, the massive beast clutching the golden pearl in its jaws as it swooped down to protect its master.

“Thud!”

The colossal draconic body was sent flying, Shi Hao’s lightning—tempered through tribulation—piercing its flesh, scales scattering as blood rained down.

Even a divine flood dragon could not withstand Shi Hao’s strike within the Spirit Realm.

“You—!” The purple-robed man paled, realizing he had kicked an iron plate. “Brother, hold your hand! I am from the Dragon Demon Sect! This is a misunderstanding—with our combined strength, we could dominate this trial, unmatched by any!”

Shi Hao remained cold. Here, he had no reservations. This man had attacked him without provocation—he would leave no loose ends.

“The Dragon Demon Sect?” Murmurs spread among the surrounding Sovereigns, many backing away in fear, unwilling to provoke such a force.

“Hmm?” Shi Hao frowned, recalling that the Dragon Demon Sect was one of the most ancient orthodoxies in the upper realm. Moreover, he had heard whispers that this sect had long targeted and monitored Sin Province, suppressing the descendants of the Sinful Bloodline.

Some ancient sects, though usually inactive, were rumored to oversee Sin Province, keeping watch over the Sinful Bloodline.

The Dragon Demon Sect was one of them!

“Boom!”

Shi Hao flapped the terrifying thunder wings on his back, unleashing a storm of lightning that struck the purple-robed man, reducing him to scattered light.

The surrounding Sovereigns scattered in terror.

The marshland was vast, with a hundred thousand Sovereigns locked in battle. Shi Hao advanced unhindered.

Wherever he went, after slaying a few powerful foes, the area around him would empty—none dared approach this unstoppable force, a demon who slaughtered gods and buddhas alike.

Shi Hao strode forward, massive thunder wings on his back, his feet treading the marsh. For a time, none dared challenge him, all retreating in fear.

This was a reputation forged through bloodshed. After two hours, he emerged from the hundred thousand Sovereigns, leaving a trail of corpses in his wake.

By now, nearly everyone in the region knew of this demonic figure—one not to be provoked, lest they invite death.

He would not strike unless struck first. But none wished to provoke such a slaughterer, especially when Sin Province had ten thousand slots to fill.

Stepping out of the marshland, Shi Hao beheld the other battlefields, interconnected and equally embroiled in fierce combat, with Sovereigns clashing and treasures filling the skies.

Those regions were in chaos—the earth cracked, mountains collapsed, and even great lakes had been evaporated.

Thankfully, this was the Spirit Realm. Otherwise, the devastation would be unimaginable.

After two hours of battle, countless Sovereigns had fallen. The land was not only shattered but also stained crimson with blood.

The carnage was horrifying.

“All proceed to the Supreme Altar. Those who fail shall be expelled from the Spirit Realm, disqualified.”

A grand voice echoed above the eighty battlefields, a manifestation of the rules—cold, emotionless, ringing in every ear.

The battle ceased as golden pathways materialized in the void, carrying survivors from each battlefield toward the Supreme Altar.

This would be the final trial—success or failure hinged on this moment!

Meanwhile, outside, in the grand arena of Sin Province…

Many seated Sovereigns opened their eyes—these were the defeated, slain within the Spirit Realm, their spirits now returned to their bodies.

“Whoosh!”

An ancient forbidden formation activated, and over seven million vanished in an instant, leaving vast empty spaces in the arena.

All were stunned. The battle had been so brutal—in just over two hours, the eight million Sovereigns had been whittled down so drastically.

Beyond the grand arena, many waited for news—venerated elders from various sects, even Heavenly Deities and sect masters.

“Our sect has been wiped out, all slain and returned. Truly, we cannot compare to the top sects,” lamented an elder.

“Eh? Isn’t that a disciple of the Dragon Demon Sect? I recognize him—he was quite powerful. Yet he was slain and disqualified!” someone exclaimed in shock.

Of the seven million who returned, many hung their heads in bitter disappointment, eliminated so swiftly, their chance to enter the Immortal Ancient lost.

Yet they did not leave, lingering outside the formation to witness the final outcome.

“Master, I was defeated!” A purple-robed youth in the crowd clenched his fists, his face ashen. He was the expert Shi Hao had slain.

“With your talent, you should have ranked within the top five hundred. Yet you were slain,” remarked a Heavenly Deity, expressionless. He was a high-ranking member of the Dragon Demon Sect.

“Could he be the one we seek?” someone whispered.

“Hmm. We shall all enter to observe the battle at the Supreme Altar,” the Heavenly Deity declared.

“I wonder if the other sects have suffered losses—if they encountered the one we seek,” a True Deity mused.

Earlier, even beings as powerful as them dared not enter the chaotic battlefield, where their cultivation would be suppressed to the Sovereign level.

For a Heavenly Deity to be slain in a battlefield of eight million bleeding Sovereigns would be a spectacle indeed.

In truth, once suppressed, the chaotic battlefield was lethally dangerous—none dared enter lightly.

The Spirit Realm was vaster and more real than the Void God Realm, its laws and order far stricter. Even upper-realm powerhouses were constrained within it.

“At last, we may enter to witness the battle at the Supreme Altar—to see who will dominate and claim the title of Sin Province’s strongest!” Many were eager, impatient to begin.

After the great battle, the number of Sovereigns had dwindled sharply. The observers could now stand outside the altar, free from the fray.

**Spirit Realm, outside the Supreme Altar.**

Multiple paths led inward to the colossal altar, towering like a mountain, pitch-black and oppressive.

“Eh? At the summit, mist swirls—the Supreme Nectar is nearly full! Who can ascend?”

The arriving Sovereigns were stunned. At the very top of the altar, a bowl seemed to overflow with glistening liquid.

Soon, all fell silent. The path ahead was blocked by a group scrutinizing the area.

“The Dragon Demon Sect and the Fire Cloud Cave—both ancient upper-realm sects. What are they doing?”

These individuals barred the way, inspecting everyone who sought to pass.

“Descendants of Sinful Blood, step aside!”

A woman from the Dragon Demon Sect, her lips thin and sharp despite her beauty, shooed several cultivators away, denying them passage.

“Why?”

“Scum of the wicked bloodline, begone! You should be grateful for even this chance!” a man sneered.

“You—!” The targeted cultivators seethed with anger and humiliation. This was Sin Province, yet outsiders were dictating terms with such arrogance.

Everyone knew that those who entered first held the advantage—only the top ten thousand would be chosen.

“Silence! If you value your lives, scram! Your kind should spend eternity atoning for your sins!” they barked.

In the distance, Shi Hao’s gaze turned icy. He knew entering would not be peaceful—this was likely aimed at him. But he feared nothing. His identity would be revealed sooner or later.