The cheers in the Yama Heavenly Sect’s grand hall were abruptly strangled, as though choked by an invisible giant hand.
The Soul-Devouring Venerable rose slowly. He made no exaggerated gesture, yet the moment he stood, the centre of the entire world seemed to shift onto him.
The oppressive aura the burly man had exerted was already terrifying, but compared to the Soul-Devouring Venerable now, it was a firefly beside the bright moon, a stream beside the vast ocean!
Rumble!
Outside the hall, the sky already darkened by demonic qi now turned pitch black.
Thick clouds like ink gathered madly, churning and twisting. Within them flashed no lightning, but countless distorted, wailing faces of resentful souls, emitting shrieks that pierced the soul.
Bone-chilling yin winds howled through the ruined hall, flapping everyone’s robes and freezing their very marrow.
The space around the Soul-Devouring Venerable began to warp and blur. He seemed to stand in a separate demonic domain that overlapped with reality yet remained utterly alien.
The murderous and demonic pressure accumulated over ten thousand years, condensed from the slaughter of countless lives, crashed against every mind like wave after wave of tangible tsunamis.
Thud… thud…
Some disciples of lower cultivation could not even cry out. Their eyes rolled back under the indescribable terror, their minds shattered, and they collapsed unconscious. Some bled from all seven orifices, their lives hanging by a thread.
Even Yan Nantian, a third-grade celestial immortal, felt as though ten-thousand-zhang mountains pressed upon his shoulders. His bones creaked under the strain. Only by circulating his demonic essence with all his might could he barely remain standing, his face pale as paper.
Liu Xue let out a muffled groan. The colour that had only just returned after Chen Ping’s victory drained away again. Her delicate frame trembled. She leaned on her sword planted in the ground to keep from collapsing.
She felt her very soul quaking, an instinctive fear born from the absolute disparity in life tiers.
The entire hall, no, the entire mountain gate of Yama Heavenly Sect, shivered beneath this demonic might, as though it might crumble into dust at any moment.
Only Chen Ping!
He bore the brunt, locked by the greater part of the Soul-Devouring Venerable’s will and pressure.
The ground beneath his feet cracked inch by inch, spider-web fissures spreading outward. Fresh blood once more trickled uncontrollably from the corner of his mouth.
Yet his spine remained straight, like an unyielding spear that would sooner break than bend, rooted firmly in place.
The Dragon-Slaying Sword in his hand emitted a high, tragic dragon cry. Its light flickered, as though resisting the supreme evil force filling heaven and earth.
Chen Ping’s gaze remained as sharp as ever, even more focused than before. He knew clearly that the true test of life and death had only just begun.
Everything before had merely been an appetiser. Facing this peerless devil who, ten thousand years ago, had annihilated the Heavenly Gate in a single night, Chen Ping harboured no illusions of luck.
“To die by this Venerable’s hand is the greatest honour for an ant like you.”
The Soul-Devouring Venerable spoke, his voice calm yet carrying the cold indifference of one who passed judgment on life and death. He slowly raised his right hand, fingers slightly spread, and gently pressed downward toward Chen Ping.
No grand momentum, no dazzling radiance.
Yet the instant his palm descended, all space within ten zhang of Chen Ping abruptly froze!
Not just space. Light, sound, spiritual energy, and even time itself seemed seized by an invisible hand and forcibly locked in place!
Chen Ping’s expression changed dramatically!
He felt as though he had been sealed inside amber weighing billions of jun. Every movement became excruciatingly difficult. Even his thoughts seemed on the verge of halting!
