The ancient, mottled spear in the Holy Lord’s hand shot out like lightning, vanishing the moment it was thrown.
*Thud!*
Ripples spread across the entrance of the Voidsky Palace in the distance as the mottled spear reappeared with terrifying force, striking the entrance—yet it only caused ripples. Faint streaks of blade light emerged, neutralizing the spear’s momentum.
“Holy Lord, the Voidsky Palace does not welcome you,” a cold voice echoed from another dimension.
“Blade Emperor has arrived as well,” the Holy Lord mused, realizing the dire situation. Clearly, his opponents had come prepared. With the Witch Ancestor and Realm Ancestor restraining him, breaching the Voidsky Palace—now guarded by the Blade Emperor—would be no easy feat.
With a mere gesture, the mottled spear returned to his hand.
“You place too much faith in the Sword Master. My possessions are not so easily taken,” the Holy Lord declared, his killing intent growing ever more oppressive.
“Let’s see about that,” the Realm Ancestor chuckled.
The Witch Ancestor remained silent, standing calmly to the side.
“Stubborn fools,” the Holy Lord growled as his aura suddenly surged.
*Boom!*
Countless bolts of gray lightning erupted above the Sacred Realm, writhing like colossal serpents or crashing violently upon the earth. These chaotic bolts swirled around the Holy Lord, whose skin turned translucent, veins of lightning coursing beneath. The spear in his grip crackled with the same gray electricity.
“Witch Ancestor, be careful. The Holy Lord is about to lose his mind,” the Realm Ancestor warned with a grin. The Witch Ancestor, however, tensed, the black chains coiled around his body expanding rapidly, distorting space around them. Each chain seemed to birth and annihilate universes in its wake—a sign of utmost vigilance.
*Boom!*
The Holy Lord moved. A single step brought him into striking range. His spear thrust forward with deceptive simplicity, yet it carried an unfathomable profundity—aimed directly at the Witch Ancestor. To the Holy Lord, the Witch Ancestor was the easier target.
*Whoosh—*
Nine black chains danced through the air, their movements inscrutable. The surrounding space compressed violently, shrinking from thousands of miles to a mere mile in radius. Within this confined space, the chains filled every inch, clashing against the spear.
*Clang—!*
The impact sent the Witch Ancestor reeling backward.
“Haha, play with me instead!” The Realm Ancestor lunged forward, laughing.
“Begone!” The Holy Lord swung his spear. Though not a master of esoteric laws, his combat prowess was peerless, his spearwork transcendent.
Yet the Realm Ancestor ignored the attack entirely, spreading his arms wide as if to embrace the Holy Lord. The spear struck his skull with brutal force, denting and twisting it grotesquely—yet the Realm Ancestor merely grinned. Not a hair was out of place, nor a scratch on his skin. His distorted skull simply reformed.
*Thud! Swish! Crash!*
The Holy Lord unleashed dozens of strikes upon the wiry Realm Ancestor. In terms of power and technique, he far surpassed his foe, leaving the Realm Ancestor utterly defenseless.
Yet…
The Realm Ancestor remained unharmed.
His body could expand or shrink at will, hardening like a cosmic treasure one moment, then flowing like a river the next. He could disperse and reform effortlessly. Faced with such an indestructible adversary, even the Holy Lord felt a flicker of frustration.
“Go.” The Witch Ancestor, standing nearby, unleashed countless thin black chains from his skin. Though initially small, they swelled rapidly, numbering in the tens of thousands—enough to make the entire Sacred Realm tremble.
“These two…” The Holy Lord seethed.
The Witch Ancestor, founder of the Witch cultivation system, could unleash devastating techniques given even a sliver of time. His methods were insidious, unpredictable.
In a one-on-one battle…
The Holy Lord would never grant him such an opportunity. But with the Realm Ancestor aiding him, the Witch Ancestor had all the time he needed.
*Boom—!*
As the Holy Lord clashed with the Witch Ancestor, the Sacred Realm quaked, fissures splitting the heavens before sealing anew.
—
**Within the Voidsky Palace…**
Dongbo Xueying and the others felt the terrifying tremors of battle outside.
“What’s happening?” Xueying immediately peered through the aperture of his Black Mist Orb. The fight was unfolding right outside the Voidsky Palace—close enough for him to observe with startling clarity.
“The Holy Lord!”
Xueying saw him—a figure nearly identical to the ancient statues. His features were androgynous, so delicate that he could pass for a beauty in feminine attire. His visage radiated sanctity, infused with the essence of the Chaos Void’s supreme laws. Every movement exuded overwhelming pressure…
“It’s him. It’s really him.” A surge of uncontrollable hatred burned within Xueying.
His master, Gu Qi, had died by this man’s hand—before Xueying could even meet him properly.
This madman.
This tyrant who demanded absolute loyalty from all living beings, stripping them of even their soul’s freedom.
“So this is his true power?” It was Xueying’s first glimpse of the Holy Lord’s might.
Overwhelming.
The terrifying lightning swirling around him, the ancient spear in his grip—each motion shook the Sacred Realm. His speed surpassed Xueying’s ability to track. All Xueying could see was the Realm Ancestor, battered yet unyielding, enduring the Holy Lord’s onslaught with sheer resilience. Meanwhile, the Witch Ancestor lurked in the distance, weaving sinister spells.
Yet even the Witch Ancestor’s deadliest techniques were shattered by the Holy Lord’s brute force.
Fighting two at once… the Holy Lord held clear dominance.
The Seven Seas Sacred Realm trembled, fissures splitting the world again and again.
“Incredible…” Xueying was awestruck.
The Witch Ancestor and Realm Ancestor were among the closest to the Holy Lord’s level. Xueying’s own treasure, the *Twelve Yuan Pearl Bracelet*, could only withstand their attacks for a fleeting moment. A single fully charged strike from the Witch Ancestor would obliterate Xueying’s defenses—and his life.
Yet the Holy Lord shattered such techniques effortlessly. A casual strike from him could annihilate beings of Xueying’s caliber.
Destroying worlds was trivial to him.
“The gap between us… is vast.” Witnessing this firsthand, Xueying understood the chasm that separated them. No wonder the lofty Holy Lord disdained even Chaos Realm overlords. Even newly ascended Cosmic Deities could barely survive against him with treasures—let alone fight him.
Those capable of facing him could be counted on one hand—all second-tier Cosmic Deities.
“To oppose him… I must first become a Cosmic Deity.” Xueying’s soul trembled with longing—a desperate hunger for greater strength.
Ninth-level?
Among Chaos Realm experts, it was formidable. But before the Holy Lord, it was nothing. Even with treasures, he remained an ant.
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