With just a single move, nearly all the Deathblight Clan were swept away—either slain or forced to flee. The sole surviving Grand Elder, though still formidable, had his strength greatly diminished, and his advantage over the Sword Master was no longer as overwhelming. Resisting the shockwave of the attack, the Grand Elder turned his furious gaze toward Dongbo Xueying.
“This—”
If the Sword Master and the Insect Ancestor had some psychological preparation, the remaining top-tier experts of the Bloodflame Clan were utterly stunned, their disbelief giving way to ecstatic joy.
“Just like that… swept away in an instant?”
“Was that the Flying Snow Divine Emperor?”
“He… he seemed like the weakest of the three cultivators. How could he be this powerful?”
They were overwhelmed with excitement!
This time, they had gambled the fate of their entire Bloodflame Clan. Success meant they still had a chance to rise and reclaim their homeland. Failure would mean utter annihilation—their clan fading into history like so many other indigenous tribes before them. When the Second and Third Elders had rallied the Kings to besiege them, they had been on the brink of despair, ready for a final, desperate struggle.
Who could have imagined such a dramatic reversal?
“Quickly, quickly! To the ancestral grounds! We must retrieve the Netherspirit Fruit before the Deathblight Sovereign awakens!” Prince Yan Ji of the Bloodflame Clan urgently transmitted his voice.
“Move!”
“To the ancestral grounds!”
The indigenous warriors, led by Prince Yan Ji, surged toward their ancestral lands in a frenzy.
They were racing against time. Once the Deathblight Sovereign appeared, he would be far more terrifying than the Grand Elder!
“Xueying, how is your trump card so powerful? Even Fan Zu might not achieve such an effect!” The Sword Master, while fending off the Grand Elder, advanced toward the ancestral grounds and transmitted his question.
The fact that he could converse mid-battle showed just how much easier the fight had become.
“Brother Flying Snow, this is beyond belief. Though intelligence suggests the Deathblight Clan is weaker in soul and willpower, this is just absurd,” the Insect Ancestor said, still struggling to comprehend.
“I gave it everything I had,” Dongbo Xueying replied with a chuckle.
The eight Kings who had lost consciousness and had their souls obliterated had dissipated into mist, leaving behind only their weapons—such as the eerie blood-red claws and an unassuming wooden staff—which Xueying casually collected.
The Deathblight Clan was a race of exceedingly low intelligence.
Nearly all of them behaved like wild beasts, viewing outsiders solely in terms of “edible” or “inedible.” Only the highest echelons of their kind possessed any semblance of wisdom, yet even they slaughtered all outsiders indiscriminately, making cooperation impossible.
The indigenous tribes, at least, could be negotiated with—trading goods, forming alliances.
But the Deathblight Clan?
Even among themselves, the beast-like majority devoured one another. Their dwellings were crude, their weapons rough, though the materials were often extraordinary—either self-generated or harvested from the floating islands.
“Though the Deathblight Clan is unintelligent, legend says they were born from the corpses of mighty Primordial Chaos creatures. Their life force is unique—no matter how weak their minds or souls, their resistance to external influences is formidable,” Xueying mused.
According to intelligence gathered by the Heartworld Continent’s cultivators in the Broken Tooth Mountain Range, the Deathblight Clan’s souls were indeed special, but their low intelligence and mental fortitude made them vulnerable to soul-based attacks—far more so than cultivators who had clawed their way up from weakness.
Even the indigenous tribes, though more resilient than the Deathblight Clan, paled in comparison to cultivators.
Cultivators reigned supreme in mental fortitude.
“Soul-based techniques are usually highly effective.”
“Yet, across the entire Heartworld Continent, those who have reached the second-tier of Cosmic God proficiency in soul arts are pitifully few,” Xueying reflected. “Most don’t even possess avatars, making them unwilling to gamble their lives.”
“And soul-type treasures with second-tier Cosmic God power are exceedingly rare. To wield them, one must first reach the first-tier in soul cultivation—and if an avatar is lost, so is the treasure.”
Though the Heartworld Continent knew soul techniques were potent against the Deathblight Clan, deploying them on a large scale remained difficult.
Second-tier Cosmic God techniques were generally effective only against the Kings of the Deathblight Clan.
Against a Sovereign?
Negligible.
Regardless, this was a wide-area attack—the trump card of their operation. While Xueying handled the masses, the Sword Master would deal with the strongest foes.
“Just how far has Xueying’s Illusory Realm Dao progressed?” the Sword Master wondered silently.
He only knew that Xueying had traded Illusory Realm Dao scriptures with the Summerflame Kingdom in exchange for treasures like the Voidfire Lotus and a hundred thousand jin of Primordial Chaos Sand.
He didn’t know that Xueying had already merged four branches of the Illusory Realm Dao and was working on the fifth. Moreover, during his efforts to free those enslaved by the Sacred Lord, Xueying had gained profound insights into the soul’s path, giving him clear direction for the fifth branch’s fusion.
In the realm of soul cultivation, Xueying stood at the pinnacle—not just in the Heartworld Continent, but across countless source worlds.
He was indisputably the foremost soul cultivator in the Heartworld Continent.
Treasures like the Demon Emperor’s Robe were based on the fusion of just two branches.
Xueying, however, was merging five. When he unleashed his full soul-based might, the effect was the most devastating the Heartworld Continent had ever seen.
“Don’t celebrate too soon,” Xueying transmitted. “Once my trump card is revealed, the Deathblight Clan will be shaken. They’ll likely awaken their Sovereign. If the Grand Elder can still maintain half his strength under my soul attack, the Sovereign will be even less affected. We must hurry.”
“Right.”
“Quick, quick—I’d rather not face that Sovereign.”
While the Sword Master engaged the Grand Elder, he sped toward the ancestral grounds. Xueying and the Insect Ancestor moved even faster.
—
### The Sovereign
Every floating island of the Deathblight Clan had a Sovereign—the most terrifying existence on the island, monopolizing the finest resources. Typically, they cultivated in deep slumber.
According to the Sword Master’s intelligence, the Deathblight Clan’s cultivation primarily occurred during sleep.
Devouring was one method.
Absorbing resources while dormant was another.
On a floating island, never expect to defeat a Sovereign head-on. Even the likes of the Undying Netherworld Emperor or the Summerflame Monarch might only hold their own. For Xueying and his companions, success meant escaping with their treasures intact.
“Damn it!”
“How could there be such a powerful cultivator?”
“Awaken the Sovereign!”
“Now!”
### The Ancestral Grounds
The Second and Third Elders, along with three surviving Kings—including the black-clad maiden, King Fusuo—had barely escaped with their lives.
They had retained just enough clarity to teleport away.
Now, they were a mix of shock, rage, and terror.
Only the Sovereign could deal with this threat.
“Awaken the Sovereign?” King Qidu, still in the Elder Hall, stared in disbelief at the battered Elders.
“Hurry!” The Elders rushed toward the Sovereign’s resting place.
“What happened?” Qidu asked the other Kings.
“Dead. All the Kings who went… only we survived,” a silver-gray, four-legged beast rumbled.
“All of them?” Qidu was stunned.
His own strength was average among the Kings. Had he gone, he too would have perished.
A mix of relief and horror washed over him.
“How? Even if that sword-wielding expert was unstoppable, the Kings should have been able to escape,” Qidu pressed.
“It was that second-tier Cosmic God cultivator—the one who seemed weakest. He was the true nightmare.”
“Terrifying.”
The surviving Kings shuddered at the memory of the Illusory Realm’s descent—its illusions, temptations, and relentless pull on their souls.
They had barely clung to consciousness. A moment longer, and they would have succumbed. Even now, their combat strength was pitiful.
### The Sovereign’s Chamber
The Elders and Kings arrived before a vast pool filled with dark green liquid.
Within it lay an enormous, pitch-black figure—so massive that parts of its body breached the surface.
It slept motionless, emitting no aura, like a lifeless husk.
To outsiders—cultivators or indigenous tribes—it would seem inert.
But to the Deathblight Clan, the Elders and Kings could sense the terrifying power coiled within their Sovereign.
To devour him would bring unimaginable evolution.
Yet, even their combined strength couldn’t pierce his skin.
“Sovereign,” the Elders and Kings bowed deeply, their voices reverent.
They called for their ruler to rise.
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