Lu Yuan snapped back to his senses, the Suspended Scissor Divine Sword slicing through the void with a torrent of sword techniques, striking the Deputy Master of the Desolate Warmth Civilization: “This strike is in retribution for the enmity between myself and the Desolate Ancient Civilization.” The sword hit the Deputy Master, yet although struck, the force of the blow was largely diverted, and the injury was not severe.

Lu Yuan continued his assault, this next sword emerging from within the deluge once more. Lu Yuan was thoroughly enjoying wielding the profundity of the 'Flood' principle in his swordsmanship. Of course, the flood power within the technique was entirely different from the flood power of true magic power; anyone could learn the flood power of the technique, but the ancient flood power found within magic power was exclusive to the Desolate Ancient Civilization—almost impossible for others to wield.

Flood!

“This strike is for the Deputy Master of the Artifact Civilization; the innocent perished due to your ambition.” This sword was the crest of the flood.

“This strike is because I owe the Deputy Master of the Heaven’s Guard Civilization a favor.” This strike was like the trough of the flood.

“This strike is for the sake of the Treasured Imperial Daughter.” This strike was like the surging, rolling waves of the flood.

“This strike is for the righteousness between Heaven and Earth.” This strike made the flood more vast and overwhelmingly indifferent.

Lu Yuan struck one blow after another. The Deputy Master of the Desolate Warmth Civilization was repeatedly struck. Although he deflected much of the force, and his magic power was significantly higher than Lu Yuan’s, his Desolate Warmth World had only been diminished by about thirty percent. However, losing thirty percent was still a terrifying loss; ten-tenths would mean his death. As an entity spanning six epochs, how could the Deputy Master of the Desolate Warmth Civilization bear to perish here?

The Deputy Master of the Desolate Warmth Civilization roared, “Lu Yuan, you have been arrogant long enough. Now, I shall show you my true strength.”

The Deputy Master of the Desolate Warmth Civilization thrust both hands from his sleeves, moving them in the void. Between his palms, a mass of flowing water condensed—a stream as black as ink. Was this the damnable Ancient Warm Plague Miasma Flood of the past? If so, he was mistaken if he thought it was meant for him. No, this was not some wretched Ancient Warm Plague Miasma Flood.

This stream of inky black water possessed an essence of extreme malevolence and wickedness.

As this stream grew larger in his hands, it eventually blotted out the heavens, transforming into a colossal river spanning the center of the entire Artifact Civilization World, soaring perhaps several million zhang high. It remained utterly black, utterly bizarre, as if countless plagues could be seen swimming within this dark current.

Within this river, one could discern countless microscopic organisms of pestilence.

The first was the Plague of Civilization’s Black Death. Within this Black Death, countless strange and sinister rats seemed to peek out and spread the disease. Once this Black Death of Civilization spread, it was certain that the entirety of the Artifact Civilization would be consumed by it. A civilization-level plague, capable of shattering heaven and earth, was no mere jest.

In that inky, sky-reaching pillar of water, the second was the Pox of Civilization’s Smallpox. This pox was no ordinary bloom, nor the celestial flowers that fell when a great Buddhist master preached. This Civilization Pox was also a type of plague, the antithesis of the celestial flowers during Buddhist sermons. More bizarrely, this pox was far more terrifying than the Buddhist manifestation; this singular, incomparably black pox could obliterate one hundred Buddhist celestial flowers.

Within the inky pillar of water reaching the heavens, there was also the third, the Malady of Civilization’s Pestilence. The extremity of the Five Plagues, all tending toward affliction, regardless of magnitude, with similar symptoms. The Malady of Civilization’s Pestilence was inscrutable and unpredictable, terrifying a billion times more than ordinary pestilence. A single speck spilled onto the ground held the effortless power to exterminate tens of billions of people.

And within the ink-like column of water reaching the heavens, there was the fourth, the Miasma of Civilization’s Fumes. These fumes manifested in five vibrant colors, laced internally with countless illusions. Amongst these illusions was something woven from the most pestilential, epidemic, venomous, and terrifying essence. This Miasma of Civilization’s Fumes had once trapped and killed a figure at the Civilization Realm alive.

Within the ink-like column of water, there was the fifth, the Frenzy of Civilization’s Ferocity. This Ferocity manifested as countless maddened beasts transformed into infinitely tiny particles, roaring and screaming for the annihilation of all things. Of course, within this inky pillar, there were not just these five, but thousands upon thousands, infinite civilization-level plagues coalescing into an absolutely terrifying killing aura.

In truth, this plague shared a certain similarity in methodology with the arts of the Medicine Civilization.

Plague: one of the Five Great Evil Paths. Medicine: one of the Five Great Righteous Paths.

One belonging to the Evil Paths, the other to the Righteous Paths; it was natural for their methods to be similar while their effects were diametrically opposed.

This incomparably black pillar of water stood beside the Deputy Master of the Desolate Warmth Civilization. He let out a booming laugh. He truly felt an aura of world-ending might. Here, "world-ending" naturally referred to the Minor Thousand World; beings who reached the Civilization Realm generally possessed the ability to utterly destroy a Minor Thousand World. As this immense, ink-black pillar of water was summoned, a great wind suddenly swept across the Artifact Civilization. This wind was no longer the World Wind from before, but a Wind of World Destruction. This was because the Artifact World sensed the real possibility of its own annihilation, causing the world to instinctively generate this gale. Simultaneously, the Artifact World began to instinctively expel the Deputy Master of the Desolate Warmth Civilization—a normal world’s rejection of a destroyer. But it was useless. Worldly expulsion was fatal to anyone below the Civilization Realm and placed enormous pressure on Deputy Masters of the First or Second Epochs, but what was it to the Deputy Master of the Sixth Epoch?

That world-destroying wind continued to blow, ruffling the Deputy Master of the Desolate Warmth Civilization’s hair. The usually refined and scholarly figure appeared somewhat unhinged. He laughed maniacally, “Lu Yuan, congratulations. You have forced out my final ultimate move: the Plague Evil Path, one of the Five Great Evil Paths.”

“Lu Yuan, first I will slay you, then I will execute all these clamoring ‘Desolate Ancients who ascend to Lu Yuan,’ and finally, I will use this pillar of water, this Plague Evil Path, to utterly erase this cosmos, leaving nothing behind!” the Deputy Master roared, launching the Plague Evil Path heavily toward Lu Yuan.

A giant, black torrent several million zhang long hurtled toward Lu Yuan, carrying thousands of terrifying civilization-level plagues seeking to infect him. These plagues were far, far more terrifying than the Gu insects wielded by the Deputy Master of the Miao Gu Civilization. The Gu insects back then had inflicted grave harm upon him, but these civilization-level plagues from the Sixth Epoch were far more terrifying now—more than a hundred times worse than the Miao Gu’s.

Lu Yuan was instantly struck by the colossal black torrent. He immediately felt his Fourth Epoch body undergoing a series of changes, faintly manifesting symptoms such as hair loss, sweating from the lower body, and soiled garments—the hallmarks of the Five Signs of Decline for Celestial Beings. He was faintly displaying characteristics of the Five Signs of Decline within his own body. This Plague Evil Path was truly terrifying. Lu Yuan dared not hold back any longer and instantly summoned the eyeball derived from the Eye Civilization. Once the inky black eyeball was activated, the Celestial Five Signs of Decline vanished instantly. However, this eyeball was merely an artifact from the Civilization Realm. The Plague Civilization and the Eye Civilization had only been adversaries, and the Eye Civilization held only a slight advantage. It was impossible for Lu Yuan to shatter the Deputy Master of the Desolate Warmth Civilization’s ultimate condensation of the Plague Evil Path using only this single eyeball.

Lu Yuan raised the eyeball, using it to ward off the colossal black torrent. The massive black water ceaselessly crashed against the artifact. The eyeball could only protect the three zhang radius around Lu Yuan; nowhere else was shielded. Where the inky stream struck, immediate annihilation occurred: the earth utterly destroyed, mountains and rivers annihilated, oceans drained—what terrifying power!

The Deputy Master of the Desolate Warmth Civilization couldn't help but exclaim, “Oh, you have good fortune, possessing the eyeball of a Deputy Master from the Eye Civilization. But even with the Eye Civilization’s eyeball, you are fated to perish today.” Upon receiving the inheritance of the Plague Civilization, he had also learned that the Eye Civilization was the mortal enemy of the Plague Civilization. It was rumored that the Eye Civilization could shoot divine light, and the light from the eyeball could easily dispel plagues. He had not expected Lu Yuan to possess one; it was a stroke of luck. But to think a mere eyeball from the Eye Civilization could block his attack was laughable. His assault intensified, and under its might, the three zhang protected by the eyeball around Lu Yuan were continuously compressed—smaller and smaller.

Without question, the Deputy Master of the Desolate Warmth Civilization currently held the clear upper hand.

Lu Yuan quietly let out a breath. No one at the Civilization Realm was easily provoked. Finding himself at a disadvantage, he needed to devise a method to shift the tide of the battle.

The countless spectators watching nearby saw Lu Yuan struggling. They knew they could only do one thing: shout!

Yes, shout!

A cry born from the depths of their hearts.

“Desolate Ancients ascend to Lu Yuan! Lu Yuan, you must win!”

“Desolate Ancients ascend to Lu Yuan! Lu Yuan, you must win!” These were cries born of desperation. They did not wish for annihilation, nor death. No, it was more than just shouting; some people charged forward. Their opponent, a figure at the Civilization Realm, was undeniably powerful, but in order to protect their homeland, they charged. Many people from the Artifact Civilization rushed out. But the ultimate outcome for those who charged was immediate death. Ordinary plagues might take time to kill, but civilization-level plagues killed with terrifying speed. Yet, even as some were slain, they charged forward without hesitation.

Lu Yuan was fighting with all his might, and everyone else was fighting with all their might, too.

Fighting desperately so that the Artifact Civilization would not be destroyed!

Death was undoubtedly terrifying, but to protect one's home—perhaps it was not such a momentous thing after all.