"My Primordial Demonic Sect’s millennium of planning is nearing its climax. This is the crucial moment, and our manpower is already stretched thin.

Intervening in the affairs of the East Lin Cloud Continent now hardly seems appropriate?" "Then, Senior Brother Mi, are we simply supposed to endure the repeated humiliations inflicted upon our sect by that Gatekeeper?" Luo Ming let out a cold laugh. The one who had just spoken those words beside him was his Senior Brother, Mi Tuoluo.

Upon hearing this, the latter's breath hitched, and then he shook his head once more. "I have a bad feeling about that one; he might not be so easily taken down.

Junior Brother, if you act on personal desire, you might shatter your own teeth instead of swallowing him whole—" "With the combined might of the Three Great Sacred Lands, we have at least five Grand Masters of the Spirit Palace realm. I refuse to believe he can turn the heavens upside down!" A cold snort escaped Luo Ming, a hint of sneering disdain coloring his features.

"If not for this Dragon Hall legacy site, I could barely utilize two-tenths of my full power. Back then, I would have ensured his demise!

I wouldn't care about any 'Dragon Shadow'!" The small island ahead was now in sight, and they soon hovered above the city. At this point, Mi Tuoluo said no more.

Luo Ming let out a cold sneer and, without needing to do much, unleashed waves of demonic aura downwards. But in that very instant, Luo Ming's spirit alerted him sharply.

Those around him also spun to look in all directions. Hundreds of golden needles materialized simultaneously.

Streams of crimson flame erupted from thin air in every direction. "An ambush?" Luo Ming frowned, instinctively deploying his Dharma Altar.

His mind was filled with confusion—who dared to ambush them, the Primordial Demonic Sect? The Orthodox Sects?

The Spirit Tide was imminent; everyone should be focused on maintaining peace. Starting a major battle now would yield more losses than gains.

As this thought crossed his mind, countless bolts of lightning suddenly materialized as well. Merging with the blazing red flames, they instantly turned pure black and violently exploded.

The dozen or so Primordial Demonic Sect cultivators in the air all had grave expressions, already on high alert for defense. But when the black flames surged forward like a tide, instantly engulfing the sky, neither their Spirit Law Shields, nor their Vital Qi barriers, nor even their Spirit Artifacts could stop them; they were scorched through immediately.

A chorus of miserable cries erupted. Furthermore, numerous arcs of lightning danced and flashed between the silver needles.

In the brief time it took to register this, four Seventh-Rank cultivators were instantly reduced to ashes. Luo Ming felt his heart bleeding.

These were the true elites selected by the Sect for the Dragon Hall mission! However, he himself was struggling immensely at this moment.

Relying on the power of the Dharma Altar, he maintained the area around himself from being soaked by the black flames. The two Dharma Protectors beside him, both peak Martial Venerable experts at the Eighth Rank, also clung close to the Dharma Altar to survive.

With a subtle gesture of his Spirit Art, he summoned two Soul Beasts of the Ninth Rank, each strikingly different in appearance. Luo Ming poured all his spiritual sense into detecting the origin of this black flame Spirit Art.

Moments later, his eyes flashed with fierce determination. "You beasts!

Elephant Dragon, emerge for me!" As his voice sounded, a colossal spirit beast soared out of the Spirit Beast Pouch. It resembled a dragon, possessing a formidable draconic might, yet its body was three times the size of an ordinary Ninth-Rank True Dragon!

Mi Tuoluo also burst forth from the black flames, following close behind. A flash of crimson light enveloped him, and he lunged toward a spot near the foot of a mountain below.

Deep underground, Zong Shou ceased the 'Blazing Sky Flame' divine ability. Reciting an incantation, he instantly transformed two 'Puppet Spirit Descent Talismans' into silver-armored paper figures.

His nascent soul detached and slipped into the paper figure on the left. Then, wielding the 'Autumn Severing Sword,' the two figures, accompanied by seven points of white light, violently burst forth from the earth.

As soon as he broke the surface, Zong Shou's sword light condensed into a single beam. Maneuvering the paper figure, he charged directly towards the Elephant Dragon.

A massive surge of cold breath first issued from the dragon's maw. Everything within a thousand zhang instantly froze, the cold rapidly spreading outwards.

The giant claw of its forelimb then slammed down fiercely. Zong Shou let out a cold laugh, his figure swirling and flashing, effortlessly evading the massive claw.

Yet, he made no move to avoid the cold breath, his entire body blazing with fierce flames. "— of the Blazing Dragon, Flame!" "— of the Wind Cloud Dragon, Wind!" "— of the Thunder Dragon, Thunder!" The intent of the three True Dragon Swords instantly stacked together.

The tip of Zong Shou's sword, initially a single point of flame light, suddenly turned black. Leveraging the power of the Ninth-Rank puppet figure, the tens of millions of pounds of immense force made the sword light even more dazzling.

The nine-hundred-and-ninety-nine zhang long scarlet sword light, with a mere twist and stir, pulverized the cold breath entirely! Fear immediately surfaced in the Elephant Dragon's eyes.

Zong Shou, however, remained cold and impassive. With a flash of his sword light, he violently plunged it into the dragon's skull.

Crushing everything like rotten wood, he completely shredded the pinnacle Ninth-Rank spirit beast into dust. "Zong Shou!

It's you?" Luo Ming watched, his eyes splitting with rage. Without hesitation, he flung a black, iron-like token down from his Dharma Altar.

In mid-air, it abruptly transformed into a black bolt of lightning, plummeting toward the silver-armored paper figure Zong Shou inhabited. As this electric light flashed, even Mi Tuoluo’s eyes narrowed.

Zong Shou uttered a soft 'Yi,' and without hesitation, his nascent soul left its vessel, transferring into the other paper figure. In the exact instant he shifted bodies, the silver-armored paper figure he had just vacated was violently detonated to pieces by the black lightning!

Zong Shou did not even blink. His sword light flashed again, and he clashed fiercely with Mi Tuoluo!

Clang! With a ringing sword cry, the two collided and were instantly repelled.

Just as the silver-armored paper figure was forced back several zhang by the dragon’s impact, Zong Shou’s nascent soul once again broke free. Guiding his sword with his soul, he pursued and struck Mi Tuoluo again!

The latter was clearly caught off guard, struggling to resist. A hundred strikes flashed between them in an instant, the air filled with the sound of clashing swords.

But after just three breaths, Zong Shou’s sword finally pierced through the dense sword light, cleanly splitting Mi Tuoluo’s head in two. At that very moment, the second black lightning bolt struck down from the Dharma Altar.

Zong Shou frowned slightly, finally guiding his mind to summon several Eighth-Rank spirit artifacts sequentially from his Qiankun Pouch to intercept it. As expected, they were instantly shattered into fine ash!

By now, a brief lull had fallen over the battle in this patch of clouds. Of the dozen or so Primordial Demonic Sect cultivators who had barely escaped the black flames, the majority had been slain by the Holy Fire Silver Ants, and two were dispatched by Weak Water leaping into the air and slaying them with a single sword strike.

The remaining disciples of the Primordial Demonic Sect had all hidden within the Dharma Altar. Luo Ming stared daggers at Zong Shou, who was still holding a black token in his hand.

Zong Shou’s spirit alerted him. He glanced at the item in the man's hand and surmised it was indeed a Tribulation Thunder Token.

He showed no concern, simply gesturing with his hand. His physical body flew out from underground and merged with his nascent soul.

Then, he stepped forward into the empty air, walking up to the Dharma Altar. The last remaining silver-armored paper figure guarded his back.

"This Tribulation Thunder Token should be the last one? Do you wish to end yourselves, or shall I do the deed?

If you commit suicide, I can grant you rebirth!" As these words fell, the expressions of the remaining Primordial Demonic Sect cultivators varied. Most showed enraged eyes, but some showed signs of wavering.

Luo Ming, however, trembled with anger, letting out a laugh instead of raging: "Does your Zong Shou think he has surely won? To dare oppose my Primordial Demonic Sect, Zong Shou, you have incredible gall?" Zong Shou looked back with an indifferent expression, showing no reaction.

Yet, for some reason, Luo Ming felt a sudden palpitation throughout his body, feeling utterly drained of strength. He felt as though the youth before him was like a mountain, immovable and unshakable.

The boastful words he had spoken earlier seemed utterly laughable now. The thought flashed, and Luo Ming unhesitatingly flung the token in his hand away.

This time, it did not coalesce into a single mass but instead scattered into countless black lightning arcs that filled the sky. Several Ninth-Rank Soul Beasts suddenly flew out from within the Dharma Altar.

Luo Ming himself suddenly fled upwards, transforming into a streak of swift light, soaring into the distance. Zong Shou let out a light scoff and slashed out with his sword.

Faintly visible at the tip of the blade was a single black dot. Instantly, the entire expanse of the sky darkened, shrouded in a black curtain.

Where the dark shadow passed, not only the surrounding black lightning but also the Dharma Altar, the Soul Beasts, and the several Eighth-Rank cultivators upon it were all devoured by this single sword strike. Then came a blinding white light—the Autumn Severing Sword spectacularly expelled a vast expanse of white radiance!

Only then did sound finally return to the sky. Luo Ming's figure, having escaped several hundred zhang, was engulfed by this white light.

Then came a resounding "Boom!"—he was blasted into dust, all his blood and moisture vaporized, falling as fine sand. Zong Shou casually summoned a Qiankun Pouch, whose edge was already damaged, drawing it into his grasp.

He had intentionally controlled his power just enough to prevent the Qiankun Pouch from being destroyed. Exploring it with his spiritual sense, he confirmed it was indeed inside.

He then paused, feeling an incomparably pure surge of vital essence, one that was no less potent than the essence returned by Zhao Yanran's Dao Embryo, suddenly surging back into him from the sword in his hand. This influx of vital essence caused his inner breath within the Wheel Meridian and his Soul Sea to significantly expand in an instant.

Zong Shou paused. What was happening?

The purity of this vital essence far surpassed the absorption capabilities of his previous 'Heaven Swallowing Primordial Transformation.' It required no purification and was purer than his own internal breath and soul power. Could this also be a divine ability manifestation of the Black and White Twin Caves?

But why hadn't this occurred when he slaughtered the Ninth-Rank spirit beast before? Was it because his true power had already transformed into Yin and Yang primal energies?

Or was it because both his Martial Dao and Spirit Arts had reached the Ninth Rank? Just as he was pondering his confusion, his thoughts were interrupted by Ye Feishuang, who arrived riding an artifact.

"You actually won? What was the deal with those two sword strikes just now?

Even a Ninth-Rank couldn't resist—" Her eyes were filled with astonishment. She had guessed Zong Shou might win, but she hadn't expected him to win so cleanly and decisively, suffering almost no losses apart from expending one Puppet Spirit Descent Talisman.

Especially during the projection of those two sword strikes, Ye Feishuang could feel her own bloodline trembling with fear and submission! Zong Shou did not reply but squinted toward the west.

It seemed there were two people there; one of them possessed an aura reaching the Ninth Rank. Whether they harbored ill intentions, Zong Shou did not know, but one of them was an acquaintance, and indeed, one of his subordinates.

While he was hesitating on whether to eliminate potential witnesses, Zong Shou's spiritual sense once again issued a warning. "What a surprise!

Someone who can rival the unparalleled Jueyu is already so anticipated. I never expected that upon just returning to the Cloud Realm, I would encounter such a swordsman—" Zong Shou turned back in shock to see a figure suddenly appear behind him.

Around twenty years old, his demeanor was wild and arrogant, his eyes filled with madness and an eager anticipation for a fight. Zong Shou raised an eyebrow, then immediately returned to a calm expression.

"Sword Maniac, Yuan Wushang?"