Chapter 566: A Forest of Power

In the Heavens, at the Immortal Academy.

By the lakeside, Feng Wu wrinkled her nose in annoyance, stomping furiously upon a fierce turtle beneath her feet. Naturally, she had heard the rumors regarding the infamous Da Xiong Haotian and was growing restless.

“I wonder if anyone witnessed our battle. I left my immortal sword there—would that wretch dare to spread words about it?” she murmured to herself.

If Da Xiong Haotian were to boast about things like pinching her nose or pulling her cheeks, it would make her furious beyond measure. Just imagining it made her anxious to act.

“I cannot endure this! It’s unforgivable!”

She longed for a divine pill to immediately restore her energy so she could rush to the Bronze Altar. She had lost far too bitterly, her divine techniques never even given a chance to shine before he ambushed her.

At the Bronze Altar stood a lone figure, amidst countless beings from various races, all subdued within a single hour.

Though Shi Hao had slain no one himself, his fearsome reputation proceeded him. Any The Strong One who attempted to dissolve their essence in retreat were still counted among his victims. The name “Haotian” itself now radiated dread and dread.

“Ah, the Silver Clan has arrived,” someone whispered lowly.

This clan was unique—one-half metal, one-half flesh. Their bodies gleamed with a silver, cold brilliance. They were incredibly powerful; the very surface of their skin shimmered with a silvery glow.

Legends spoke of their origin: born from the sprites of ancient Silver Mines who mated with a Supreme of Humanity, birthing an indomitable species. Though few in number, they held high status, and most preferred not to provoke them.

“Descendant of the Sin-Blood, though your notoriety is great, it falls to us to quell your menace,” declared a Silver Clan warrior who strode forward, his every footstep on the stone road ringing with metallic resonance.

“You speak of courage in facing great peril, yet you sound ridiculous. Why not stop acting so self-righteously? Don’t pretend—it’s my ‘Sinful Arts’ you seek!” Shi Hao mocked.

From behind, captives whispered warnings of the Silver Clan’s might, but he remained undaunted. If Willow God could slay a Black Gold Sparrow—an ancient sprite—then these descendants of the Silver Sprites would fall just the same.

With a thunderous roar, the Silver warrior surged forward, while several others seated behind him began chanting, not yet moving.

“This isn’t right!” Shi Hao tensed. The air had solidified—he could barely move.

The group chanted in unison, unleashing a magical implement that shone like a silver sun in the sky, sealing the battlefield.

The charging Silver warrior, unaffected by the enchantment, arrived in a blink, unleashing a vicious punch aimed at Shi Hao’s head, glowing with silvery glyphs.

From afar, others gasped—the artifact glowing in the sky was the “Silver Dao Bloom,” a treasured relic of the clan. Reportedly forged from the ancestral silver essence of their forebears.

They had even brought the soul of the artifact into the Spirit Realm, a truly impressive feat.

“Break!” Shi Hao roared, his divine energy boiling within him, his body radiating light as he struggled against the suppression. Slowly, he raised one hand to shield himself.

With a massive explosion, the Silver warrior struck—Shi Hao was sent hurtling backward. The pressure of the “Silver Dao Bloom” had made any resistance formidable, and he narrowly avoided annihilation.

“He escaped death!” the Silver warrior exclaimed in disbelief.

“A mere bloom, and not even your ancestor himself? And don’t forget—we’re in a suppressed realm at the Bronze Altar. Watch as I dismantle your efforts today.”

Shi Hao murmured, slowly rising under the crushing weight, his body ablaze with divine flames. He seemed to carry a mountain on his back.

Faintly, wings of a Kun Peng manifested behind him, vast and luminous. His form merged with the radiant silhouette, leaving the observers stunned and uncertain.

“Kill!”

With a shout, Shi Hao quickened, his motions growing swifter. Though powerful, the Silver Dao Bloom could no longer suppress him—he was beginning to move freely.

Ultimately, it was only a famed artifact, not a true treasure. Bound by the battlefield’s rules, its might had been partially curbed.

With a colossal eruption of power, Shi Hao exploded forth, his divine light surging, piercing the heavens. The shockwave rippled through the battlefield, unsettling all who witnessed it.

He launched a punch forward, and a storm of golden feathers erupted—Kun Peng feathers, brimming with invincible might.

Across from him, the seated figures turned pale. A vast force hurled them backward, severing their connection to the mystical artifact.

The Silver warrior, now in the fray, could not resist. He was swept away by the winds of force, fleeing at full speed, realizing his inability to subdue the opponent.

Golden feathers spiraled from the sky, countless as rain, radiating immense power. They surrounded the fleeing warrior, pulling him back.

With a single gesture, Shi Hao crushed him. The Silver warrior spat silver blood and collapsed, barely able to move.

“Fall back!”

The others cried out, activating the Silver Dao Bloom to flee. Yet from behind, a golden fist thundered forth, shattering the artifact. Two of them fell and were captured.

The famed weapon had failed, and three were now subdued.

More and more challengers arrived, drawn by the notoriety of this Da Xiong from the Lower Realms. Naturally, battles ensued. Though most approached cautiously, there were still those brimming with arrogance and talent.

But the result was always the same—Haotian grew ever more ferocious, subduing countless masters and hurling them onto the Bronze Altar.

“The Stoneclan arrives!”

A thunderous rumbling echoed, as massive stone giants, over a hundred feet tall, marched forward. Their every movement radiating mountain-shaking strength.

Shi Hao called forth the Divine Stone and hurled it.

“Gnash! Gnash!” It bit with savage power, sending shards flying as it fed upon their mountain essence.

While not killing them outright, it drained their vitality.

Without a doubt, this carnage was attributed to Shi Hao. Outside the battlefield, rumors spread that he devoured hundreds of mountain spirits with a single bite, further cementing his horrifying reputation.

A commotion stirred as a being emerged—golden-scaled, with wings upon its back and a third eye vertically seated in its brow, radiating immense power.

Many gasped, excitement igniting.

“An envoy of the Spirit Clan approaches. This is Zheng Gu’s younger brother, said to bear the title of Spirit Monarch!”

The Spirit Clan was an immense, ancient lineage, its branches diverse and mighty.

Zheng Gu was said to be divinely gifted, born beneath countless omens. He gripped a spear of Blood Solidification in his left hand at birth, a true “Firstborn,” capable of piercing all creation, a young Supreme Supreme Sovereign within the Spirit Clan.

This warrior was his sibling, named Zheng Lun—equally mighty, though lacking those divine gifts.

“I have come to test your might!” Zheng Lun saluted.

“Please,” Shi Hao’s eyes gleamed. He longed for battle, and finally, a formidable challenger had arrived.

A sibling of a “Firstborn,” blessed by the Western Sect, a being known as the “King of Spirits”—this was no ordinary warrior.

Zheng Lun surged forward, wreathed in golden flame, like a war god in all his might. His radiant aura engulfed the skies, overwhelming all.

Instantly, many nearby were cast into the heavens, swept away by the golden tempest.

Like a divine giant, he towered over others who seemed mere straw figures, helpless against the pressure.

CLANG!

A deafening sound rang out as Shi Hao met him, a single palm strike against a golden fist—a cataclysmic collision.

“Roar!” Zheng Lun roared, his golden hair bristling. His colossal wings, like golden blades, cleaved downward from behind.

Crackling sparks erupted as Dao sigils lit the air like lightning. Shi Hao struck repeatedly with his hands, clashing against the golden wings.

In mere moments, dozens of exchanges erupted, thunderous and fierce, as though two celestial gods battled.

“SCHWING!”

Zheng Lun’s third eye flared open, unleashing a stream of five-colored glyphic beams, resonating with the sound of cosmic laws.

At such close range, none could evade.

Shi Hao unfurled his arms like a phoenix in flight—the first stance of the Vermilion Phoenix Supreme Art. Fiery wings of rebirth through fire flared forth, intercepting the assault.

The five-colored sigils struck the vermilion wings, throwing off sparks and vibrations like a divine symphony. Many shuddered, unable to bear the crushing pressure.

This was a battle of celestial proportions!

The third eye failed, its light fading. Shi Hao’s phoenix wings clashed with the golden ones, strike after strike.

With a massive BOOM, Shi Hao’s Kun Peng wings suddenly manifested, striking Zheng Lun’s golden wings until they bled. He staggered backward.

“I soaked in the Vajra Pool of the Western Sect for forty-nine days, granted an unbreakable body, and yet he still breached it,” Zheng Lun whispered, astonished at Shi Hao’s physical might.

Suddenly, his left hand blazed with red light—condensed crimson energy shaped into a spear, erupting from his palm with boundless power!

“How could this be? Wasn’t Zheng Gu the ‘Firstborn,’ born gripping a Blood Solidification spear meant to pierce anything? Could his brother possess the same power?” All present gasped.

Many opened wide eyes in disbelief.

SCHWING!

Scarlet brilliance pierced the sky. For a moment, all light dimmed. The world was bathed in a crimson spear—though only a meter in length, it radiated a glow that lit up eternity itself.

All who watched closed their eyes, unable to stare further into the blinding inferno.

After a fierce clash, the scarlet glow dimmed, and the combatants emerged.

Shi Hao’s right hand bled profusely, a terrible wound where the Blood Solidification spear had nearly pierced through.

“Truly mighty, living up to the legends!” many exclaimed.

Zheng Lun stood tall, golden radiance ablaze, his wings mighty and unmoving, looming like a mountain.

“Is this the power of a Spirit Clan Firstborn? Indeed formidable. It pierced my flesh,” Shi Hao murmured.

“No, my Blood Solidification spear cannot rival my brother’s. Its might pales in comparison,” Zheng Lun replied, stepping back with each labored breath, bones cracking within him.

He coughed blood with every retreat, grievously wounded.

“Then go summon your elder brother. I would test myself against his famed spear—the one born from his left hand, capable of piercing all,” Shi Hao invited, intrigued that this warrior—though not arrogant—had withstood a hundred exchanges. He longed to meet the true “Firstborn” of the Spirit Clan.

“Very well. I shall deliver your challenge,” Zheng Lun replied, turning to leave.

Suddenly, with a thunderous crash, a dome of golden radiance erupted from within the Golden Gates, shaking the very heavens.

At once, many fell to their knees, overwhelmed by an indomitable pressure.

Then, a golden sun descended, radiant beyond imagination, like the decree of the cosmos itself descending to suppress Shi Hao.

“What is this?” others screamed.

Blinding and unparalleled, seated within the golden sun was a lone figure, majestic as a divine king, his whole being emitting endless brilliance. His eyes remained closed, yet all the light emanated from him.

The golden sun swept down, and he remained seated, attempting to suppress Shi Hao with his very presence!

“A Firstborn—whose clan is this?!” someone cried. Only a young Supreme Supreme Sovereign could wield such overwhelming might.