As the green-robed elder appeared, all the Bixiao Sect cultivators within the barrier, including the sect leader, bowed respectfully and shouted in unison, “Greetings, Ancestor Yuming.”
Ancestor Yuming waved his hand, his expression tinged with melancholy. He looked up at the towering White Tiger Saint King and gave a bitter smile. “Who would have thought that a single act of kindness back then would set a tiger free? You’ve truly broken through that barrier.”
“Kindness?”
The White Tiger Saint King sneered, his voice heavy. “What a fine word, kindness.”
“Back then, to stop me from returning to the Hundred Thousand Mountains, you lot ambushed me nine times. Too bad I survived all nine and even took a few of you down.”
“And now you call that kindness?”
“Hahaha, how laughable.”
“I thought you, Yuming Sword Sovereign, were different from the other schemers. A sword cultivator, I assumed, would be upright and noble.
But you’re just another hypocrite, no different from the rest.”
“If I hadn’t been so resilient, I’d have died by your hands long ago.”
The White Tiger Saint King’s sneer was cold, his expression indifferent, but his tone shifted. “Speaking of this, I recall an old matter from a thousand years ago.”
“When she ascended, several Nascent Soul old monsters secretly attacked, trying to sabotage her ascension. They were repelled, but I didn’t know who they were back then. Now, I suspect you were among them, old man.”
“White Xiaosu, you don’t understand what ascension truly means. Everything we did was for the safety of the billions of cultivators in this world,” Ancestor Yuming said gravely, not denying it.
“For the safety of the world?”
“What righteous nonsense.”
“Calling you a hypocrite is giving you too much credit.”
“A bunch of sanctimonious fools, all you wanted was to seize what she left behind. Too bad you failed.”
“The seeds you sowed then bear fruit today. Your cultivation ends here, Yuming.”
The White Tiger Saint King snorted coldly, raising his hand to strike.
As his hand moved, the sky churned with winds and clouds. His palm grew vast, transforming into a colossal hand that shrouded the entire Bixiao Sect’s mountain gate.
This divine ability left Mo Fan wide-eyed.
“White Xiaosu, you disgrace the beings of the Nine Continents. Our actions were selfless, yet you seek vengeance for personal grudges. A beast will always be a beast, unfit for greatness,” Ancestor Yuming roared, showing no intent to dodge. His sword intent blazed, growing stronger by the moment.
Boom.
In an instant, a pitch-black pillar of light shot skyward, engulfing Ancestor Yuming’s body.
This was the ultimate manifestation of his sword intent, the pinnacle of his lifelong swordsmanship, unleashed in full.
“The beings of the Nine Continents mean nothing to me.”
“The billions of cultivators? I couldn’t care less.”
“I am White Xiaosu, her White Xiaosu. Whoever opposes her, I’ll slaughter.”
“You, Yuming, are just the first, not the last.”
The White Tiger Saint King roared, his voice shaking the heavens. A massive white tiger phantom appeared behind him.
The phantom was immense, nearly touching the sky, and as the Saint King raged, it let out a terrifying roar.
Buzz.
The sound was vast yet silent.
Mo Fan’s ears fell into complete silence. Ripples spread through the space below, as if a massive stone had been thrown into a calm lake, creating violent waves.
Pop.
A faint sound broke the silence. Bixiao Sect’s protective mountain array shattered.
A single tiger roar had destroyed it.
Along with the array, countless Bixiao Sect disciples perished, their bodies exploding whether they were in the Qi Refining or Foundation Building stage.
Only the five Golden Core cultivators survived, pale and bleeding from their mouths, gravely injured but alive.
“White Xiaosu.”
“You deserve death.”
From beneath the sky-covering hand came Ancestor Yuming’s heart-wrenching roar. His sword intent erupted, piercing the Saint King’s palm and transforming into a massive black sword aimed straight at him.
“The one who deserves death is you.”
The White Tiger Saint King snorted coldly, opening his mouth. The towering white tiger phantom mirrored him, its jaws wide, and with a fierce inhale, the ferocious black sword vanished into its maw.
On Bixiao Sect’s misty plaza, Ancestor Yuming stood on the stone tiles, his eyes lifeless, his right hand forming a sword gesture pointed at the giant white tiger in the sky.
“Ancestor.”
The five Golden Core cultivators rushed forward, kneeling and weeping.
They realised Ancestor Yuming’s life force was gone.
“Little toad, did you see that?”
“The so-called great mountains of the human race aren’t untouchable. With faith in our hearts, one mountain, ten, or a hundred—what’s the difference?”
The White Tiger Saint King spoke calmly, his spirit shifting to stand before Ancestor Yuming’s body.
His presence made the five Golden Core cultivators glare, but the next moment, his terrifying pressure forced them to tremble, unable to even lift their heads.
“Yuming, do you regret what you did back then?”
The White Tiger Saint King looked at the corpse and spoke softly, then stepped past it.
“Henceforth, there shall be no Bixiao Sect.”
His voice echoed through the heavens, and with one step, he vanished from the martial plaza.
As he disappeared, the five Golden Core cultivators shuddered and lost their life force.
Figures emerged from their bodies, flying into the sky and merging into the White Tiger Saint King.
“I, White Xiaosu, for the demon clan, have razed one mountain.”
In midair, the White Tiger Saint King spoke loudly, then pressed a palm downward.
Boom.
Though separated by vast distances, the entire Bixiao Sect, its chain of mountains, collapsed under that palm.
Watching the trembling earth below, Mo Fan gasped, though in his current state he couldn’t feel the chill.
He was utterly shocked by the White Tiger Saint King’s dominance.
He never imagined, as the Saint King had promised, that he would annihilate an entire sect.
This was Bixiao Sect.
One of the two great mountains left by the human race in the Hundred Thousand Mountains to suppress the demon clan.
Gone, just like that.
If he hadn’t witnessed it himself, Mo Fan wouldn’t have believed anyone who claimed it.
He couldn’t fathom a being so terrifying, nor that the weakened demon clan could produce such a ferocious existence.
Unbelievable.
Truly unbelievable.
When the dust settled, the once-beautiful scenery was gone, replaced by a massive palm print.
The print spanned dozens of miles, visible only from above. On the ground, Mo Fan doubted he could see its full scope.
“Come, follow me to destroy the second mountain.”
