As Shi Hao took each step, golden lotuses bloomed beneath his feet—a breathtaking sight that sent shockwaves through the crowd. Many gasped, their eyes gleaming with astonishment. Only those with profound cultivation and flesh near the Dao could manifest such phenomena when casting techniques. How old was this youth? Even a Supreme Being might not achieve such a display!
This was the resonance of heaven and earth, the spontaneous emergence of divine signs. Golden lotuses unfurled, radiant mist swirling around him as he moved. One after another, the lotuses materialized, leaving onlookers dumbstruck. A faint, intoxicating fragrance filled the air, stirring the very souls of those present.
“Not good!” The Rain Clan members recoiled in panic. Even the Kun King and Lan King swiftly retreated. Shi Hao was charging toward them—his flesh near the Dao, but his killing intent equally terrifying.
*Thud!*
The moment Shi Hao raised his hand, the Rain Clan’s representative had no time to dodge. A crimson sword beam, like a streak of blood, slashed through him, cleaving his body into pieces. Amidst the splatter of blood, the man let out a final, horrified scream before collapsing, his eyes wide with unrelenting fear.
It happened too fast. The sheer might of Little Stone defied imagination—killing in a single strike before so many kings, unstoppable.
The void trembled as a dazzling golden light erupted. The youth from the Heaven Mending Sect struck, his brow furrowed as he summoned a golden whip—a sacred artifact. White mist surged around it, its power terrifying.
At the same time, the short-haired youth from the Western Sect acted. His alms bowl glowed, purple mist swirling as it expanded like a bottomless black hole, devouring all in its path.
Shi Hao’s palm shimmered with bloody light. A small crimson gourd materialized, rapidly enlarging before hurtling forward—one sacred artifact against two.
He released it, and the gourd unleashed torrents of sword beams, clashing against the two powerful sacred artifacts. Brilliant radiance intertwined as the three forces entangled.
The fragrance of lotuses intensified as Shi Hao advanced, each step birthing golden Dao lotuses—a manifestation of the Great Dao’s resonance, something even Supreme Beings struggled to achieve. Legends spoke of higher realms where such phenomena weren’t mere visions but tangible combat power—where a single lotus could silence the void.
*Pop!*
Shi Hao flicked his finger. Ten stars aligned, piercing through the divine sun—a chain of dazzling spherical lightning that collided with a larger electric sphere, erupting in a deafening explosion.
“Retreat!” everyone shouted. The sheer might of this lightning was beyond even the kings of the Formation Array Realm. The Kun King spat out a jade talisman—a treasured ancestral artifact refined over years, linked to his spirit.
Yet, it shattered instantly under the thunderous might of the Ten Stars Piercing the Sun. Purple lightning engulfed it, reducing the talisman to dust.
Little Stone was invincible. None of his peers could withstand him. The strongest artifacts were destroyed in an instant, their wielders left scorched and near death. The Kun King suffered grievous wounds, his body charred and convulsing.
The crowd trembled. How could they fight this? Alone, Shi Hao was like a tiger among sheep—who could oppose him?
“Cease your rampage!” the Heaven Mending Sect youth shouted, lunging forward with his sacred artifact to block Shi Hao’s unstoppable momentum.
Like a dream, a colossal dragon descended, its massive claw swiping down with overwhelming force—a fragmentary technique of the True Dragon’s Treasure Art, the *Dragon Summoning Hand*.
Shi Hao’s expression turned grave. Any technique related to True Dragons or Divine Phoenixes, even incomplete, demanded caution. At times, they could unleash terrifying power—sometimes explosively, though at great cost to the user.
*Boom!*
Shi Hao countered with a fused treasure art—a palm that blotted out the sky, as if he were a peerless deity crafting a miniature world filled with endless sword energy.
The Heaven Mending Sect genius paled. Trapped beneath the attack, only the Dragon Summoning Hand’s unexpected intervention saved him from being buried in sword light.
*Slice! Slice!*
The sword beams never ceased. The colossal palm descended, crushing the dragon and shredding it into dozens of pieces. The Heaven Mending Sect prodigy fled in terror.
Shi Hao flicked his finger. A golden roc burst forth from his fingertip, rapidly expanding as it chased the fleeing youth—swift as a fleeting shadow.
The Heaven Mending Sect youth’s face darkened. He halted abruptly, hands weaving seals as he chanted incantations. A golden light enveloped him.
“Impervious to all laws, the Dao Bell protects!” someone murmured in awe. This was a remarkable treasure art of the Heaven Mending Sect—merging with heaven and earth, condensing void runes to forge a Dao Bell.
Only the most exceptional disciples could wield this technique, having transcended the shackles of bone inscriptions to begin crafting their own laws. This youth was extraordinary—though not on par with the Lunar Grace Goddess, his status in the sect was undoubtedly exalted.
*Clang!*
The golden roc struck the bell, the divine resonance shaking the entire imperial palace.
“Not bad,” Shi Hao acknowledged. Any ordinary king would’ve been obliterated by the *Kun Peng Art*. Surviving proved this youth’s prowess.
Having grown stronger, Shi Hao’s gaze no longer lingered on the mortal realm—his sights were set on beings from the Upper World.
Yet even this Heaven Mending Sect genius paled after the strike, his body trembling violently as the Dao Bell cracked apart.
Shi Hao’s sleeve swept out, intent on capturing him alive.
The youth gritted his teeth, his body dissolving into a wisp of smoke before reforming into a silver serpent, darting away at lightning speed.
“A *Teng Snake*?” Shi Hao marveled. This method was indeed extraordinary. Some cultivators chose divergent paths, allowing them to mimic fierce beasts and divine birds at certain realms.
*Thud!*
Though the serpent escaped, Shi Hao’s sleeve still grazed it, leaving it mangled and wailing atop a distant palace, nearly incapacitated.
The battle had been brief yet dazzling. None mocked the Heaven Mending Sect genius—even in defeat, his performance was commendable.
Little Stone’s might was simply too terrifying. His aura alone made kings tremble. Only a Supreme Being could rival him.
His growth was alarming. If this continued, who could restrain him?
Shi Hao didn’t pursue the silver serpent. Instead, he strode forward, targeting the Lan King, Kun King, and the Western Sect’s short-haired youth.
*Thud!*
His sleeve swept out, reducing the remaining Rain Clan members to bloody mist—a deliberate, unrestrained display of power meant to intimidate.
The scorched Kun King and ashen-faced Lan King staggered back in terror. As kings, they were far outmatched.
“Brother, your killing intent is too heavy. You must purify your inner demons,” the Western Sect youth intoned, his eyes gleaming with an unusual Dao charm as his body radiated an earthy yellow glow.
Shi Hao smirked. This man’s physical techniques were astonishing—his body brimming with power like a volcanic eruption. Few dared challenge Shi Hao in close combat.
The Western Sect youth’s body shone, the earthy hue fading into golden radiance as his stature expanded.
Finally, he stood ten feet tall, golden and majestic, exuding an overwhelming *presence* that bore down like a mountain.
Even Shi Hao was impressed. This was the Western Sect’s supreme technique—the *Indestructible Vajra Body*. At its peak, it manifested as the *Six-Foot Golden Body*, neither taller nor shorter, achieving perfect balance.
For this youth to attain a ten-foot golden body at the Formation Array Realm was astounding—proof he was among the sect’s top geniuses.
*Boom!*
The golden palm clashed with Shi Hao’s fist, the impact resonating through the void. Had the central palace not been reinforced with arrays, it would’ve shattered.
The other kings staggered back, their faces pale. The mere collision of flesh had shaken their souls—a true horror.
The two moved swiftly, limbs flashing in rapid exchanges.
*Thud!*
The Western Sect youth coughed blood, sent flying after dozens of clashes. His golden radiance shattered, his body battered.
“Impressive,” Shi Hao remarked. Few at his level could survive so many direct blows.
He advanced, each step birthing golden lotuses, his presence ethereal—like an immortal descended to earth.
*Thud!*
Without hesitation, his sleeve swept out, turning a group of cultivators to ash.
The Kun King and Lan King, faces deathly pale, pleaded for aid from the Heaven Mending and Western Sects.
“They can’t even save themselves. How will they save you?” Shi Hao said coldly.
A thunderbolt erupted from his palm, engulfing them in an explosion of dust.
Silence.
What was invincibility? Little Stone embodied it. Who in the same realm could oppose him?
*Boom!*
The void trembled as three sacred artifacts clashed. Two faltered, attempting to flee with their weakened masters.
Shi Hao snorted. The crimson gourd trembled, unleashing sword beams that severed the artifacts’ connection to their wielders.
Moving like a Kun Peng, he blurred forward, seizing the wounded Western Sect youth and the Heaven Mending Sect genius—now a silver serpent—in one swift motion.
Silence.
With the Western and Heaven Mending Sects’ elites captured, the remaining forces quivered in fear.
Regrettably, the two sacred artifacts escaped beyond the palace. Shi Hao glanced in their direction but didn’t pursue.
With a flick of his wrist, the crimson gourd sealed the two geniuses inside.
The kings shuddered as Shi Hao turned toward them. Those who had allied with foreign sects recoiled.
“We admit our mistake,” one stammered.
Shi Hao sneered. Raising his hand, a Kun Peng soared forth, blotting out the sky before obliterating three kings in a single strike.
“Words of repentance, eyes of malice. Why spare you?” he murmured, chilling all who heard.
The remaining turncoat kings trembled, their regret genuine.
The neutral kings stood silently, watching as Shi Hao strode toward the central palace, sensing a call—something left behind by the Stone Emperor resonating with him.
None dared obstruct him.
Behind him, three figures emerged—the Lunar Grace Goddess of the Heaven Mending Sect, a flaxen-robed youth from the Western Sect, and a youth from Mount Immortal. The very air seemed to shift in their presence.
Before entering the palace, Shi Hao cast a cold glance back, battle intent blazing, his body shimmering with sacred light. Then he stepped into the golden hall.
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