Breaking Through to the Twelfth Realm, Star Domain Master Realm, Shocking an Entire Realm
Moreover, he looked down at the divine sword in his hand and poured the power of his Self Star into it.
Dark golden light surged from the sword, and the tribulation patterns lit up one by one. A very thin and dark light condensed on the sword's edge, and within that light surged four powers: Calamity Qi, Eternal Night, imprisonment, and incineration.
With a thought, the dark light suddenly exploded, transforming into nine thin, dark golden swords.
The small swords naturally dispersed and floated around him, the tribulation patterns and Eternal Night patterns on the swords intertwined to form a faint net of light.
Each small sword was shrouded in a very faint dark golden halo, making its physical form indistinct. Only nine blurry light shadows could be seen slowly moving in the void, like nine swimming fish or nine wisps of green smoke.
The moment those nine small swords appeared, the sky over the entire back mountain darkened for a moment.
Even the loose rocks on the cliff were suspended in mid-air, motionless.
The sharp aura emanating from the nine small swords enveloped an area of several miles, cutting the air into countless tiny facets that refracted fragments of light.
What's even more chilling is that there's an invisible vein flowing between the nine small swords, like nine stars strung together by an invisible thread, echoing and leveraging each other to form a killing field.
He raised his hand and gently pointed towards the desolate, uninhabited mountain in the distance. Nine small swords flew out simultaneously, and nine blurry lights drew nine arcs in the void, like nine drops of ink falling into clear water, spreading rapidly.
The area it covered harbored an extremely strong killing intent.
He looked down at the divine sword in his hand. The nine small swords had re-entered the blade, the dark golden light on the edge had faded, and the tribulation patterns had dimmed slightly.
But he could sense that a new vein had appeared in the sword.
He named this move "Heavenly Tribulation Kill, First Form: Nine Tribulations Descend," a supernatural killing move that he could not use.
The power of this move is in no way inferior to the tenth level of Soul Devouring's Wrath.
The Soul Devouring's Wrath seems to have reached its limit.
The Ancestral God Realm, Eastern Wasteland.
Inside an ancient palace suspended above a sea of clouds, an elderly man with white hair is meditating with his eyes closed.
A half-finished chessboard lay before him, the pieces alternating between black and white, but he hadn't made a move in a long time.
Suddenly, he opened his eyes. A sharp light flashed in his cloudy old eyes, as if something had been startled awake from its slumber.
He raised his head, looking westward, his lips trembling slightly. "Another person has broken through to the Twelfth Realm."
The white-haired old man muttered to himself, his voice hoarse and solemn, "Who is it? Which old bastard has been hiding for so many years, finally taking this step?"
He tried to trace the source of that aura with his Spiritual Power, but the aura came and went quickly, as if it had been deliberately concealed by something.
The white-haired old man searched the Eastern Wasteland but found nothing.
He slowly stood up, hands behind his back, his gaze piercing through the sea of clouds, looking towards the distant west.
"The Ancestral God Realm is about to undergo another upheaval."
The Southern Wasteland is a cluster of volcanoes that burn year-round.
A shirtless, muscular man emerged from the lava. He was over ten feet tall, with bulging muscles all over his body and flame-like patterns on his skin.
He wiped the lava from his face, squinted at the north, and said, "The Twelfth Realm?"
He grinned, revealing a set of gleaming white teeth. "I've been squatting in this godforsaken place for three thousand years, just waiting for someone to break through to a higher realm so we can have a fight. It's better than playing with these rocks."
He clenched his fist, the air in his palm crackling. "Don't be a coward, afraid to even show your face after breaking through to a higher realm. That would be so boring."
The Western Desert, deep within an ancient city buried by yellow sand.
A gaunt old monk sat cross-legged atop the pagoda, his body covered in dust, as if he had been dead for hundreds of years.
But as that aura swept across the sky above the Western Desert, he slowly opened his eyes. His eyes had no pupils, only a murky white.
He "looked" eastward, his withered lips twitching slightly. "Twelfth Realms, well done. Another one added."
The monk murmured a Buddhist chant and then slowly closed his eyes.
But the moment he closed his eyes, the yellow sand surrounding the stupa suddenly and silently sank in, forming a huge vortex.
His breath went out of control for a moment, but he managed to suppress it back down.
The Northern Border, atop a frozen, snow-capped mountain.
A woman dressed in thin white clothes stood on the mountaintop, letting the wind and snow fill her robes.
An ice sword floated in front of her, its blade enveloped in a faint blue light.
As that aura swept across the Northern Border, she reached out and grasped the ice sword.
The blue light within the sword flashed, as if in response to something.
"Another one at the Twelfth Realm, also a swordsman?"
At the same time, within a radius of 100,000 li, Chen Du broke through.
Everyone felt it; their souls were shaken beyond measure.
In a small village in the southern border of Lingchao, an old farmer was hoeing the field.
He suddenly stopped, the hoe hanging in mid-air, his whole body frozen in place, his lips trembling, his knees going weak, an indescribable fear seeping from the very marrow of his bones.
He opened his mouth, looked up, and saw the sky.
There were clouds and light in the sky, but something seemed to be watching him from between the clouds and the light.
That thing was indescribably huge, and its indifference was suffocating.
He felt like an ant being watched by an unseen pair of eyes.
His knees finally gave way, and he collapsed to his knees on the edge of the field, his forehead pressed against the mud, his whole body trembling like a withered leaf in the wind.
In a small town in the Southern Border, an old woman selling vegetables on the street suddenly dropped her scales.
Tears streamed down her face without warning as she murmured, "May the Bodhisattva protect me, may the Bodhisattva protect me," and then she knelt down.
One by one, pedestrians on the street stopped in their tracks and knelt down.
Some people huddled in the corner with their heads in their hands, while others dragged their children into the house, but their legs gave way after only a few steps.
The entire city fell silent for a moment, with only the sounds of sobbing and kowtowing.
The cultivators reacted even more strongly. A Tenth Realm cultivator who was in seclusion suddenly opened his eyes and spat out a mouthful of blood.
His power of laws was running wildly and chaotically within his body, as if it were being suppressed by something, completely out of his control.
He struggled to his feet, stumbled out of the cave, and looked up at the sky.
Then, he saw a gigantic, indescribably large phantom of a god appear between heaven and earth.
The statue stood tall and imposing, its entire body enveloped in a dark golden light. Its face was blurred, but its eyes were terrifyingly clear, cold, and calm, like the Heavenly Dao looking down upon ants.
Before this statue of a god, he felt like a speck of dust.
His legs buckled involuntarily, and he knelt down, trembling all over, blood gushing from his mouth.
Further away, an elderly man at the Peak Stage the Eleventh Realm was hurrying along.
He suddenly stopped in his tracks, his expression changing drastically. He sensed an aura emanating from an extremely distant place, an aura far surpassing the level of any powerful figure he had ever encountered in his life.
He looked up at the sky and saw the statue. His pupils contracted sharply, and he froze on the spot.
The statue exuded an extremely powerful and formidable aura, a pure and unquestionable presence.
It was as if the entire world was making way for that statue, as if the statue itself was the very essence of the Heavenly Dao.
He had lived for hundreds of thousands of years and had never felt such an aura.
He slowly knelt down, not out of necessity, but out of instinct.
Standing before that statue of a god, he realized that the Eleventh Realm Peak Stage he had pursued his entire life was nothing at all.
Birds and beasts also stopped at that moment.
In the dense forest, thousands of birds took flight from the treetops, but they stopped after flying only a short distance, as if they were frozen in mid-air by something.
They didn't cry out, nor did they flee; they simply hung there, their wings stiffly outstretched, as if frozen in place.
The beasts on the ground all lowered their bodies, lying down in the grass, at the entrance of the cave, and by the stream, not daring to move.
Even the fish in the water sank to the bottom, clinging to the mud, no longer swimming.
The illusory image of the deity appeared for only a few breaths before vanishing.
Like clouds scattered by the wind, like mist melted by the light.
The world returned to calm; the clouds still drifted, the wind still blew, and the sun still shone.
But everyone knows that something has just happened.
The old farmer climbed up from the edge of the field, covered in mud, his legs still trembling.
The Tenth Realm cultivator slumped at the entrance of the cave, blood still dripping from the corner of his mouth, but his eyes shone with a frightening light.
He knew that the Ancestral God Realm had gained an extraordinary being.
The old man, at the Peak Stage of the Eleventh Realm, slowly stood up from the ground, patted the dirt off his knees, and looked into the distance.
He remained silent for a long time, then said, "The Twelfth Realms, so that's what the Twelfth Realms are like."
The back mountain of Qingfeng Temple.
Chen Du stood on the cliff, slowly concealing his aura.
He could sense that at the moment of his breakthrough, several extremely distant Divine Thoughts swept across this area.
Those Divine Thought were all extremely strong, all above the Twelfth Realm, and one even faintly touched the threshold of the Thirteenth Realm.
But they just flew by, without locking on.
Because he restrained himself too quickly.
Moreover, it seems that when he broke through to the Twelfth Realm, the power spread too strongly, directly affecting the surrounding hundreds of thousands of miles.
The Self Star slowly rotated in the sea of consciousness, enveloping the aura layer by layer, like a star that had sunk into the deep sea.