Reason with the Wu Clan? No, I Only Speak with Fists and Self-Destruction!

Faced with Xing Tian's berserk battle intent, which threatened to tear the very heavens apart, Yang Chen's face showed not a trace of solemnity. Instead, a smile, almost joyful, appeared.

He laughed.

The smile made no sound, yet it sent a chill down people's spines more than Xing Tian's earth-shattering roar.

Excellent.

This is the feeling.

No hidden calculations like Houtu, no deep-seated malice like the Phoenix Ancestor and the others.

Only the purest, most primal urge to smash the opponent's bones one by one, to grind their flesh and blood into dust.

Dealing with an opponent like this, all brawn and no brain, why bother thinking?

Reasoning?

The Witch Clan's dictionary never contained those two words.

They believed in only one thing.

Fists!

BOOM!

A completely different, overbearing aura erupted from Yang Chen's body! It wasn't magic power, nor divine ability, but something purely, extremely, and savagely primal, originating from the most ancient form of life!

He didn't transform into a ten-thousand-foot-tall dragon; that was too ostentatious and would ruin the fun of toying with these brutes in his "human form."

He simply fully activated the Ancestral Dragon Essence Blood that had long merged with his limbs and bones, pushing this seemingly frail human Dao body towards its ultimate combat form, a pure, primal state!

CRACKLE! CRACKLE!

Dense, teeth-grinding cracking sounds emanated from his body!

He wasn't injured; his muscles and bones were stretching and reforging at a terrifying speed! His flesh and blood were tearing and regenerating, leaping towards a higher dimensional life form!

His body, meeting the storm of battle intent, advanced instead of retreating, growing rapidly!

In the blink of an eye, he transformed into a giant, a hundred feet tall.

The muscles of this body were no longer the color of mortal flesh but flowed with a layer of dazzling, deep, and abyssal dark golden divine light.

Beneath every inch of skin, countless tiny dragon shadows seemed to be swimming at high speed. Every heartbeat stirred up a mountain-collapsing, ocean-surging Blood Essence, emitting dull, thunderous roars.

He displayed no draconic features – no dragon horns, no dragon scales.

But the savage might and pressure, originating from the Primordial Era's foremost overlord, which transcended all things and viewed all beings as mere ants, was more ancient, deeper, and more unreasonable than Xing Tian's pure battle intent!

Although his physique still couldn't match Xing Tian's mountainous build.

The dark golden divine light that enveloped Yang Chen, along with his world-dominating aura, instantly pushed back the pressure released by Xing Tian, dividing the control of this space!

He floated in the air, his dark golden pupils looking down at the Great Witch whose battle intent was boiling below, and slowly raised his right hand.

He spread his five fingers, then, towards Xing Tian, gently beckoned.

An extremely provocative gesture.

The countless gazes in the clamoring Witch Clan tribe were fixed on this action.

"You want to fight?"

His voice was no longer indifferent but carried a playful smile. Every word resonated clearly in the ears of every Witch Person and within Xing Tian's Divine Soul.

"Alright, I'll play along."

The smile on his face widened, like a child who had found a novel toy.

"However, I need to make one thing clear beforehand."

His tone shifted, and the smile on Yang Chen's face turned somewhat eerie.

It was an expression that mixed innocence with extreme danger, causing Houtu in the distance to feel her heart clench violently.

"My fists, like me, are a bit unstable."

He said slowly, as if he weren't making a declaration before a life-or-death duel, but stating a trivial, albeit annoying, minor matter.

"Sometimes, while fighting, I might lose control..."

He paused, his lips parting slightly, forming a silent word.

"Bang."

This wasn't a sound.

It was more like a concept, a signal, an echo from the end of all things.

The moment his words fell, a trace of aura quietly leaked from his hundred-foot-tall dark golden divine body.

Not magic power.

Not Blood Essence.

Certainly not any Divine Soul power.

It was a destructive will potent enough to make even the high and mighty Saints' scalps tingle – pure to the extreme, and violent to the extreme.

Cold.

Dead silence.

Within it, there was no emotion of life, only the ultimate brutality that returned everything to nothingness, returning heaven and earth to Chaos.

The moment this aura appeared, the light and heat in the world seemed to be instantly sucked dry by an invisible black hole.

Xing Tian's fervent battle intent, capable of boiling mountains and seas, that blood-red smoke piercing through heaven and earth, under the erosion of this aura, actually showed visible stagnation!

Boiling magma, frozen by absolute void.

Even Houtu in the distance, her eyes, which had always been gentle and compassionate, as if carrying the entire great earth, her pupils suddenly contracted into a dangerous pinpoint.

This aura...

It was the Karma and Karmic Force of the Immeasurable Tribulation!

He could actually actively summon this power that even Saints retreated from, that even the Heavenly Dao cautiously sealed?!

He was not a vessel tormented by this power!

He was the master of this power!

Yang Chen completely ignored the stormy waves rising in Houtu's heart.

He extended that giant palm, flowing with dark golden divine light, and patted his chest, which was radiating light, with an "innocent" expression.

The movement was gentle, even carrying a hint of appeasement.

His posture was as if he were comforting a naughty child who might cry and throw a tantrum at any moment, flipping the entire world upside down.

"So, when we fight later, you have to be careful."

His voice, filled with "kind" reminders, clearly reached the ears of every Witch Person.

"If you hurt me, annoy me, and I accidentally lose control and self-destruct..."

As he spoke, he surveyed the magnificent Witch Clan tribe below.

His gaze lingered for an extra moment on the twelve towering stone statues of the Ancestral Witches, exuding an ancient, vast aura.

The meaning in his eyes was self-evident.

"I'll blow up these Twelve Ancestral Witches Stone Statues, along with the entire tribe, into the sky..."

A brilliant, apologetic smile spread across Yang Chen's face.

"Then I'll be very sorry."

These words, spoken lightly, without a trace of killing intent.

Yet, every word was like an invisible Chaos divine hammer, fiercely striking the hearts of all the Witch People, striking their faith.

Silence.

A deathly silence.

Xing Tian's violent battle intent storm stopped.

That blood-red smoke soaring into the sky dispersed inch by inch in mid-air, not defeated, but the source's master had lost the will to continue driving it.

His giant battle axe, raised above his head and poised to strike, froze in mid-air, as heavy as the eternal sky, yet it could no longer descend.

In his lava-burning eyes, that pure, reckless desire to fight was, for the first time, replaced by a completely different emotion.

It was a hint of bewilderment.

A hint of confusion.

And a hint of unprecedented... trouble.

Fighting?

The Witch Clan was not afraid.

They were born for battle, died in battle; battle was their innate destiny.

Death?

The Witch Clan feared death even less!

To die on the battlefield and return to the Father God's embrace was the highest honor for every Witch Person!

But this guy in front of them wasn't talking about fighting, nor about life and death.

He was talking about... flipping the table!

He had no intention of deciding the victor within the rules.

He wasn't just competing with Xing Tian to see whose fist was harder; he was clearly and undeniably placing the ultimate trump card on the table – self-destruction, capable of destroying everything and making Saints change color.

He used the gentlest tone to issue the most overbearing, most unreasonable threat.

Can you afford to fight this battle?