Chaos sank into utter deathly silence.
The spatial rift Yang Mei had forcibly torn open had completely collapsed and been annihilated after the axe-light struck into it, unable to withstand that destructive power.
Even the Chaos for hundreds of millions of li around was swept into it, turning into a stretch of eternal nothingness.
Yang Mei's final roar, filled with endless venom and unwillingness, also vanished into that deathly silence.
Pangu's True Body hovered quietly at the center of the destructive storm.
The Chaos storm around them gradually subsided, leaving only the shattered space torn beyond recognition by the aftershocks of battle, and a blanket of dead silence.
They had won.
Hongjun, Luohu, Karma, Destiny—all had fallen.
Only Yang Mei had escaped, grievously wounded.
A moment later, the enormous Pangu's True Body, which towered between heaven and earth, began to slowly disperse.
Figure after figure separated from Pangu's True Body and appeared once more within Chaos.
Zhou Ming stood at the very front. Behind him were the Twelve Ancestor Witches, their auras somewhat unsteady, but their fighting spirit still blazing high.
"Brother!"
Zhurong, the most hot-tempered of them all, was the first to rush forward. He looked toward the direction where the rift had vanished, his eyes filled with unwillingness.
"We're not chasing him? Are we really just going to let him run?"
"Yang Mei took an axe from you. He's definitely badly injured. While he's sick, take his life—perfect chance to settle this once and for all, and cut off future trouble!"
Gonggong also spoke in his muffled, booming voice.
"That's right, Brother. Letting the tiger return to the mountain means endless future trouble."
"Yang Mei is Hunyuan Wuji, after all. If he doesn't die today, he'll become a great calamity in the future."
Zhou Ming did not look