Seeing Zhang Ruochen driven into the ground by Gu Tianyin’s claw, Chi Sheng flashed to his side, peering into the pit. “Gu, you hit hard. Ease up—don’t accidentally kill him.”
“Ziyan said we must capture Zhang Ruochen alive, make him watch his loved ones die one by one, and suffer unbearable pain,” Chi Sheng added.
Gu Tianyin ignored him, his eyes narrowing as he stared into the dust-filled pit.
Emperor Purple Qi continued pouring into the pit from the sky.
“Still resilient,” Gu Tianyin muttered, his evil energy swirling, a fierce glint in his eyes.
The towering figure behind him struck again, its sinister claw hammering the pit repeatedly.
Chi Sheng’s eyes widened, exclaiming, “Gu, are you mad? Do you really plan to kill him?”
“Fool. If Zhang Ruochen were that easy to kill, Ziyan wouldn’t have left all four of us here,” Gu Tianyin said coldly.
Chi Sheng bristled, “Who’re you calling a fool? Say it again!”
“Gu Tianyin’s right. Zhang Ruochen’s tough. As long as the Emperor Purple Qi persists, he’s alive. This isn’t the time for infighting—capture him quickly,” Feng Gudao said, his expression grave.
Chi Sheng snorted, letting it go, and leaped into the pit.
“Roar.”
The Evil Spirit raised its head, unleashing a deafening roar.
A foul, toxic flame spewed forth.
“Beast, you’re dead!” Chi Sheng bellowed, charging straight through without dodging.
His Supreme Tyrant Emperor Qi surged, his fist glowing with eerie light, unstoppable.
The Tyrant God lineage cultivated the unique Supreme Tyrant Emperor Qi, excelling in defense and offense, especially in close combat.
“Swish.”
The Evil Spirit’s toxic flame scattered under Chi Sheng’s fist, splattering in all directions.
Anything touched—grass, stone, or metal—melted instantly, its destructive power staggering.
“Bang.”
Chi Sheng’s fist smashed the Evil Spirit’s head again.
The divine python corpse was unharmed, but the Evil Spirit’s saint soul reeled, nearly dislodged from the divine body.
“Zhang Ruochen, I can’t hold on. Another hit, and my saint soul will shatter,” the Evil Spirit transmitted frantically.
Having endured Gu Tianyin’s attacks and Chi Sheng’s two punches, its saint soul was gravely damaged, its bond with the divine corpse weakening.
It cursed its weak saint soul. At its peak, wielding the divine python, a tail swipe could’ve killed both, sparing it this humiliation.
Zhang Ruochen stood atop the Evil Spirit, posture straight, gaze sharp as an eagle’s, Emperor Purple Qi swirling around him.
Blood trickled from his mouth, a sign of minor injury.
Gu Tianyin’s attack was formidable; even the Radiant Merit Armour and Moon God’s divine inscriptions couldn’t fully block it.
Fortunately, Zhang Ruochen’s physique was extraordinarily resilient, surpassing most below Great Saint, allowing him to withstand the remaining force with only light wounds.
A weaker body would’ve been torn apart.
Silent, Zhang Ruochen opened the Qiankun Realm, pulling the battered Evil Spirit inside.
A surging aura erupted from him, like magma bursting from the earth.
His arms shook, summoning a massive dragon and elephant, filling the sky.
“Heavens’ Dragon-Elephant.”
Empowered by Emperor Purple Qi, Zhang Ruochen unleashed the twelfth palm of Dragon-Elephant Prajna.
The qi infused the dragon and elephant, making them solid and exuding oppressive might, charging at Gu Tianyin and Chi Sheng.
Their expressions shifted. After their relentless assault, Zhang Ruochen was not only unscathed but counterattacking.
They felt the palm’s terrifying power, as if a real divine dragon and elephant were charging.
Gu Tianyin mobilized all his claw path rules, merging with his Evil King Aspect, sending two sinister claw shadows.
“Bang.”
The purple dragon was torn apart, the claw shadows shattering.
“Break.”
Chi Sheng roared, his word transforming into a sonic wave, like an ancient divine mountain, clashing with the purple elephant.
“Boom.”
The elephant burst, space trembling.
The collisions sent shockwaves rippling outward.
“Rumble.”
The saint mountain, already crumbling, collapsed further, its saintly energy dispersing into thick mist.
Feng Gudao’s dozens of Nine-Step Saint Kings staggered back, some spitting blood, their array collapsing.
Even Gu Tianyin and Chi Sheng retreated several steps to dispel the force.
Their gazes locked onto Zhang Ruochen, heavy with caution.
“Swish.”
Zhang Ruochen shot from the pit, soaring into the air.
Emperor Purple Qi poured down, forming a five-colored canopy above him, making him resemble a supreme emperor revered by all, lofty and commanding reverence.
The sky above Saint Ming City shimmered with phenomena—surging heaven and earth forces, shifting clouds.
“Roar.”
Dragon roars and phoenix cries echoed.
Heavenly forces formed dragons, phoenixes, qilins, and divine turtles, circling the sky, as if guarding Zhang Ruochen, the supreme emperor.
Auspicious qi rose from the earth, colorful rays descended from the sky, a dazzling display.
“What’s happening? Is a treasure emerging in Saint Ming City?”
“No, it’s Zhang Ruochen. Saint Ming’s imperial fortune is fully awakened, merging with him.”
“This spectacle rivals past Bright Emperors’ coronations.”
“With imperial fortune, the city’s tide may turn.”
…
Outside, spectators were stunned.
Most had doubted Zhang Ruochen, believing his charge into the city was suicidal against Shang Ziyan’s forces.
Now, a turning point emerged. No one knew how powerful Zhang Ruochen, imbued with imperial fortune, would become.
On Kongle Mountain, a graceful figure in a Myriad Elements Saint Robe appeared, exuding nobility—Luo Ji, princess of the Rakshasa Clan.
Her gaze pierced Saint Ming City, taking in every detail.
“Summoning such potent imperial fortune, facing four top powerhouses alone—worthy of being my destined one,” Luo Ji murmured, her eyes glinting.
She was here for Zhang Ruochen, ready to suppress and take him to Hell Realm if the chance arose.
There, she had ways to tame him.
As time passed, the sky darkened.
Yet Saint Ming City glowed with auspicious qi and radiant rays.
Feng Gudao, Zi Linglong, Chi Sheng, and Gu Tianyin spread out, encircling Zhang Ruochen.
Feeling his oceanic aura, Feng Gudao’s face darkened, “Well played, Zhang Ruochen. We underestimated this trump card.”
They hadn’t anticipated this.
“Destroy my city, kill my people—no one escapes retribution,” Zhang Ruochen declared, his killing intent unmasked.
Gu Tianyin sneered, “Retribution? Let’s see if you’re capable.”
“Enough talk. End this quickly,” Zi Linglong said, her eyes cold.
The longer they delayed, the stronger Zhang Ruochen’s imperial fortune grew, tilting the odds against them.
“Zhang Ruochen, take my fist!”
Chi Sheng struck first, his muscles pulsing, power converging in his fist.
Like an enraged tyrant dragon, he charged, unstoppable, as if he could shatter ancient divine mountains.
Zhang Ruochen formed a fist seal, a translucent dragon shadow surging from him, merging with his body, his hands becoming massive dragon claws.
“Luoshui Fist, 35th Form—Luoshui Dragon Transformation.”
He moved like a true dragon riding the waves.
“Bang.”
The majestic dragon shadow struck Chi Sheng.
Though it shattered, its force sent Chi Sheng stumbling back over a dozen steps.
Zhang Ruochen stood firm, unmoved.
In a direct clash, he now held the upper hand, overpowering Chi Sheng, renowned for invincible close combat.
Feng Gudao, Zi Linglong, and Gu Tianyin’s eyes grew solemn.
Had they attacked together initially, Zhang Ruochen wouldn’t have had this chance.
“Again!”
Chi Sheng roared, his aura climbing.
Nearly 60 million saint path rules poured from him, resonating with the heavens, aiming to draw vast rules.
Only then could he unleash his strongest attack.
“Hm?”
Chi Sheng’s face shifted, sensing something amiss.
For some reason, manipulating heaven and earth rules was now incredibly difficult.
Even at full strength, he could only muster 10% of the rules within a 1,000-mile radius.
Feng Gudao, Zi Linglong, and Gu Tianyin noticed the anomaly, attempting to draw rules.
Like Chi Sheng, they could barely tap 10% of the rules within 1,000 miles, and the rules were sluggish, barely enhancing their saint arts.
“The imperial fortune of Saint Ming is suppressing the city’s rules,” Feng Gudao’s face paled.
Inability to wield rules was disastrous.
Simultaneously, they felt vast rules surging toward Zhang Ruochen, rendering even that 10% inaccessible.
“Retreat from the city!” Gu Tianyin shouted.
With the scales tipping, how could they fight?
The Heavenly Court faction powerhouses fled toward the city’s edge.
“Space Lock.”
Zhang Ruochen pressed a hand forward.
Nearly 70,000 space rules flowed from his fingers, saturating the surrounding space.
Within a 1,000-mile radius, space solidified, drastically restricting movement.
“Trouble.”
The Heavenly Court powerhouses’ hearts sank, sensing doom.
It felt like being trapped in a virtual space, their actions slowed, while Zhang Ruochen moved freely.
He flashed near a Nine-Step Saint King.
His right hand formed a palm seal, blazing with fire, striking at the Saint King.
With Zhang Ruochen’s current power, the palm’s might was overwhelming, beyond an ordinary Nine-Step Saint King’s defense.
Yet the Saint King didn’t dodge, a strange smile crossing his face.
“Danger.”
Zhang Ruochen sensed it, retracting his palm and retreating.
“Boom.”
The Nine-Step Saint King’s body exploded, unleashing a cataclysmic force that engulfed Zhang Ruochen.
Who could’ve imagined a Nine-Step Saint King would so decisively detonate their saint source?
Such cultivators, with potential to reach Great Saint, rarely chose self-destruction, which meant total annihilation, even in mortal peril.
The space lock shattered, shockwaves resonating with space, rippling uncontrollably outward.
The crumbling saint mountain disintegrated further, its saint stones melting like snow under a blazing sun.
A ruthless glint flashed in Feng Gudao’s eyes. He’d controlled the Saint King to self-destruct, timing it perfectly to catch Zhang Ruochen off guard.
The explosion’s power was immense. Despite Feng Gudao’s warning, some couldn’t defend in time.
Screams rang out as Heavenly Court monks were caught in the blast.
“What happened?”
The city’s upheaval shocked outside spectators.
“A Nine-Step Saint King detonated their saint source, with Zhang Ruochen at the epicenter,” a powerhouse hovering midair said, his keen vision capturing the city’s events.
Spectators gasped. A Nine-Step Saint King’s self-destruction was unthinkable.
“Was Zhang Ruochen killed by the blast?”
Many speculated, eager to rush in and investigate.
A hundred-mile-wide crater now scarred the city, like a meteor’s impact.
Even at the blast’s edge, with prior warning, three Nine-Step Saint Kings perished, and others were injured.
The explosion’s terror was undeniable.
All eyes turned to the blast’s center, seeking Zhang Ruochen’s fate.
“Where’s Zhang Ruochen?”
Seeing the empty epicenter, Feng Gudao and the others frowned.
