Destroying the Evil Immortal

In that instant, the Essence Blood seemed to be drawn by a powerful force, falling straight towards the "Fusion" pattern. The moment the Essence Blood touched the "Fusion" pattern, the entire Creation Chaos Cauldron seemed to be ignited, suddenly bursting forth with a dazzling golden light!

The golden light, like a dazzling sun, instantly illuminated the surrounding space. It was so brilliant and captivating that it was impossible to look directly at it, as if it contained endless mysteries and energy. The light was as sharp as a blade at dawn, piercing the eyes of the cultivators present, causing them to close their eyes, tears welling in their eyes. Even those with weaker cultivation couldn't help but raise their hands to shield their eyes, their palms turning red from the light. The thick, dark clouds in the sky seemed to have been sliced open by a sharp blade, tearing a gap ten feet wide, through which clear sunlight poured down, intertwining with the golden light of the cauldron to form a holy curtain of light. Wherever the light curtain reached, the lingering Evil Fiendish Qi in the air dissipated like snow meeting the sun. It hissed and dissolved into white steam, which carried a faint fragrance of grass and trees—the scent of the earth revitalized after being purified. The cauldron trembled violently, emitting a deep, ancient bell-like hum. The sound waves spread out, even causing the pebbles on the ground to tremble slightly. It broke free from the restraints of Ren Xiaoyao's dantian and hovered three feet in the air, mouth facing down. A golden beam of light as thick as a bucket poured down, penetrating all his meridians. The tiny Primordial Chaos light spots swirling around the edge of the beam were like Star Fragments, slowly flowing within it. Occasionally, a light spot would fall off and land on the ground, turning into tiny golden patterns before gradually dissipating.

Ren Xiaoyao felt a scorching power surge from his fingertips into his limbs and bones, forcibly stretching his meridians as if red-hot steel needles were piercing his flesh. Every inch of his bones groaned under the unbearable strain, even his marrow ached. His whole body convulsed, his back arched like a taut iron bow, his muscles trembling slightly from the extreme tension. Cold sweat slid down his cheeks, condensing into droplets on his chin, soaking his already tattered robes and creating dark stains. Blood and sweat were even visible intertwined on the fabric, forming mottled marks. His teeth clenched so tightly they rattled, his lower lip already bitten open to reveal the bone. The sweet, Fishy Sweet Blood Qi filled his mouth, sliding down his throat and into his stomach, causing a nauseating burning sensation, yet he... He refused to loosen his grip on the Creation Spear —his knuckles turned white from the force, even his fingernails were bluish-purple, and the old wound on his palm tore open again, blood flowing down the shaft and leaving dark red marks on the spear. But when it touched the three patterns of "Life-Annihilation-Devour," it was instantly absorbed by the golden light flowing within the patterns. The three patterns resonated strongly with the golden light of the cauldron, and the tiny golden rays leaping within the patterns were like three nimble golden snakes, moving up and down the spear. Wherever they passed, the Cold Iron luster of the spear was tinged with a layer of golden light. They forced the Black Venom spreading Ren Xiaoyao back half an inch, leaving a shallow Golden Barrier on the surface of his skin. As the barrier flickered, one could see the subtle ripples of the venom and the golden light clashing, each collision producing tiny Golden Light Spots.

"You fool who doesn't know what's good for him!" Seeing Ren Xiaoyao's willingness to sacrifice his own life force to resist, Ink Nightmare's eyes flashed with a violent red light. That red light was like a poisoned flame, scorching the surrounding air, and even the Evil Mist around him became thicker. The speed at which he formed hand seals suddenly increased, his fingertips flashing and drawing black trails in the air. After the trails dissipated, they still left a faint Sha Qi of evil. The Black Runes floating in the air, like ink stirred by a gale, instantly gathered into a ball, condensing into a weapon more than ten feet long. The Evil Baleful Spear, its tip entwined with dozens of vengeful phantoms: some were the remnants of a cultivator's soul, clad in tattered robes, hair disheveled, hands gripping the void, eyes filled with pain and resentment, as if yearning for release; others were the souls of birds and beasts, their fur charred black, wings incomplete, emitting mournful howls, dark red bloodstains on their fangs, as if struggling and tearing at each other before death. A viscous Black Blood Mist swirled around the phantoms, each struggle releasing a nauseating stench into the surrounding air, a stench of rotting flesh and blood that even those far away could smell. The vegetation withered and turned yellow, the edges of the leaves curling rapidly, turning a charred black. The spearhead gleamed with a greasy black sheen, like congealed pus and blood, tiny black droplets constantly seeping from its surface. These droplets, upon hitting the ground, corroded the soil, creating small pits and emitting black smoke. Even before it landed, the malevolent Sha Qi emanating from the spearhead caused the blood-soaked trench in the ground to widen several feet further, scalding blood seeping from the cracks, emitting white steam, and tiny fragments of bone could be seen floating in the blood. More vengeful spirits crawled out of the blood—some missing... Arms and legs severed, crawling on only one arm for support, fingernails digging deep into the soil, leaving trails of blood; some with ruptured abdomens, internal organs exposed, yet oblivious, still relying on their evil power to sustain their bodies, frantically attacking and biting the cultivators. Sharp fingernails slashed across the cultivators' armor, leaving ear-piercing scratches; some cultivators were even unable to dodge in time, their arms scratched by the vengeful spirits, the wounds instantly turning black, the poison spreading rapidly along their meridians, and in a flash, their arms lost all feeling, only able to watch helplessly as the black poison spread towards their hearts.

"Today I'll make you die with that old geezer!" Ink Nightmare roared, hurling his Evil Baleful Spear. His voice was filled with venom, like a sharp, icy blade, piercing the eardrums and echoing clearly even in the distant valleys, causing rocks to shatter and fall from the cliffs. The spear whistled through the air, seemingly tearing the heavens and earth apart. Wherever it passed, the folds in space became more pronounced, like crumpled pages of paper, even the light distorted within them. The remaining golden light of Cang Xuan was scattered, turning into specks of light that dissipated in the wind, carrying with them a faint glow as they fell. The Martial Dao aura he possessed could no longer withstand the invasion of the Baleful Evil Force. Ren Xiaoyao endured the excruciating pain of his meridians being torn apart, his forehead veins bulging like protruding earthworms. He suddenly raised his hand and gripped the floating Creation Chaos Cauldron tightly—the "fusion" pattern on the cauldron's body completely merged with the Essence Blood in his palm, and dazzling golden light burst forth from the pattern, like the rising sun at dawn, dispelling the surrounding darkness. A thick golden torrent surged down his arm into the Creation Spear, and where the torrent passed, the black toxins on his arm were temporarily suppressed, and a faint golden glow appeared on the surface of his skin.

In an instant, the gun's body erupted with a burst of golden, silver, and black light, shooting skyward to form a three-colored pillar of light that pierced the clouds, completely dispelling the remaining dark clouds. The vines nurtured by the "Life" rune were no longer the ordinary emerald green, but were edged with a thick layer of gold. The vines were as thick as arms, their surfaces covered with fine golden patterns. As they intertwined, layers upon layers of golden lotus petals bloomed, the edges of the petals shimmering with a faint Chaos Halo, emitting a fragrance like the sweet dew of early spring, capable of directly purifying Evil Mist —where the lotus petals fell, the vengeful spirits let out mournful screams, their bodies becoming transparent like paper burned by flames, ultimately turning to ashes without leaving a trace of resentment; the sharpness of the "Extinction" rune transformed into several Golden Sword Qi, several meters long Sword Qi edges sharp enough to Duan Kong, carved golden cracks in the sky. Within these cracks flowed the True Meaning of Martial Arts left behind by Cang Xuan, just like the sword intent he used to slay demons and monsters in the past. It carried an inviolable majesty and fiercely slashed at the trajectory of the Evil Baleful Spear. Wherever the Sword Qi passed, even the Evil Mist was split in two, unable to heal for a long time. The vortex with the "devouring" pattern was also stained with golden light. Its interior was no longer a dark abyss, but flowed with golden energy. Its suction force was several times stronger than before. Even the surrounding Evil Fiendish Qi was forcibly sucked into the vortex, turning into Golden Light Spots and dissipating. Even the rubble on the ground was swept into it and instantly crushed into powder, leaving not a trace, only a shallow pit in its place.

Ren Xiaoyao hurled the Creation Spear with all his might, his arm bulging with veins from the force, his muscles taut like a fully drawn bowstring. The golden spear shadow, carrying the force of a whirlwind, drew a dazzling arc in the air, dyeing the surrounding air gold, before colliding violently with the black Evil Baleful Spear —there was no earth-shattering roar as expected, only a silent clash of two extreme forces. The golden and black lights, like two balls of water and fire, devoured and tore at each other in mid-air, forming a distorted turbulent Energy Turbulence. Within this turbulent current... Tiny Space Cracks could be seen opening and closing continuously. Fine energy ripples spread through the air, and as the ripples spread, the blood-red grooves on the ground began to heal at a visible speed. The blood seeping from the cracks gradually dried, turning into dark red marks with a faint golden glow at the edges. The vengeful spirits, having lost the support of their Baleful Evil Force power, let out painful howls, their voices sharp as fingernails scratching wood. Their bodies, like ice and snow exposed to the scorching sun, gradually became transparent, eventually turning into ashes and dissipating, leaving not even a trace of resentment behind.

Upon seeing this, Ink Nightmare's pupils contracted sharply, and an expression of disbelief appeared on his face. He stared intently at the energy clash in mid-air, his eyes filled with madness—ignoring the backlash of the evil power, he suddenly opened his mouth and spat out a mouthful of blackish-red Essence Blood. The Essence Blood drew an arc in the air, carrying a strong fishy smell, and landed precisely on the Evil Baleful Spear. The spear instantly swelled several times in size, and the black light suddenly overwhelmed the gold, like a dark cloud that blotted out the sun, crushing towards Ren Xiaoyao. Wherever it passed, even the sunlight was completely blocked, and the ground fell into a brief darkness. The cultivators felt a strong sense of suffocation, as if a huge rock was pressing on their chests, making it difficult to even breathe.

"This land, protected by our predecessors for three thousand years, how dare you desecrate it!" A resolute light flashed in Ren Xiaoyao's eyes, a light like a burning flame that dispelled his fatigue and pain. He bit his tongue sharply, spitting a mouthful of bright Essence Blood onto the Creation Chaos Cauldron —the instant the Essence Blood touched the cauldron, it emitted a piercing hum, like an ancient bell on the verge of shattering. The sound waves made the eardrums of the surrounding cultivators ring. It then exploded in mid-air, turning into countless golden fragments. These fragments, as if alive, circled in the air, trailing golden tails, before merging into the golden spear shadow like shooting stars. The spear shadow swelled again, transforming into a Golden Giant Dragon tens of feet long: its Dragon Head held high, its golden scales shimmering in the sunlight. Dazzling Light; each scale resembled a meticulously forged golden armor, its edges shimmering with a faint Chaos Halo. Its horns were sharp as swords, their surfaces etched with intricate Primordial Chaos patterns, within which flowed golden energy. Its whiskers, fluttering, carried a rich Chaos Aura, erasing even the lingering traces of Baleful Evil Force, leaving only a refreshing scent of grass and trees. It opened its massive maw, unleashing a deafening roar that exploded across the battlefield like thunder, causing Ink Nightmare's blood to surge, his chest to feel as if struck by a boulder, and Black Blood to spill from his mouth. Even cultivators standing at a distance were shaken, their qi and blood unstable, retreating hastily; some even clutched their chests, coughing up blood that dripped to the ground, still carrying a faint Evil Fiendish Qi.

The Golden Giant Dragon swung its tail, the tip cutting through the wind and creating gusts of golden energy as it swooped down towards the Evil Baleful Spear. Its massive jaws snapped shut, gripping the Evil Baleful Spear's shaft. Golden energy surged into the spear through its teeth, instantly corroding the black surface. Dense cracks appeared on the spear's surface, spreading like a spiderweb. The vengeful spirits entwined around the spear tip were devoured by the dragon, dissipating into black mist. The spear began to shatter, cracking with a piercing sound like ice breaking. The fragments that fell to the ground turned into black mist, which the dragon then inhaled, purifying them into white vapor.

"No--!" Ink Nightmare roared in despair, his voice filled with resentment. He stretched out his hands, his nails digging deep into his palms, trying to retract the evil power within him. He found that the golden energy had already spread along the gun barrel to his meridians, burning his limbs and bones like a raging fire. Every inch of his meridians convulsed in excruciating pain. The evil power within him melted away rapidly, like ice and snow encountering a raging fire. Even his bluish-gray skin began to glow with Golden Light Spots, which grew denser and denser, spreading like wildfire. Wherever they passed, the black blood vessels beneath the skin became clearly visible. The Golden Giant Dragon released the gun barrel, its claws gripping Ink Nightmare's body. The sharp claws pierced his robes, and golden energy surged from the claws... Ink Nightmare's bluish-gray skin began to crack, blackish-red blood seeping from the fissures. The blood fell to the ground, instantly staining the soil black, and black toxins could even be seen spreading in the soil, only to be quickly purified by the Golden Light Spots. The twisted skull runes embroidered on his robe shattered one by one, the dark red threads turning into ashes and scattering. At the moment the runes shattered, faint wails of the dead could be heard, the sounds of souls bound by the runes being released. The remaining evil power within his body was forcibly extracted, turning into wisps of black mist, which were absorbed into the belly of the Golden Giant Dragon and purified into harmless white vapor. The vapor fell to the ground, nourishing tiny green sprouts, the sprouts topped with water droplets, shimmering faintly in the sunlight.

"I'm not reconciled! I'll make this continent pay with its life!" Ink Nightmare struggled frantically, his body twisted with rage, his bones creaking as if they were about to shatter. He tried to unleash the last vestiges of evil power within him, destroying the entire battlefield, but was relentlessly suppressed by the Golden Giant Dragon —the dragon's claws grew stronger, Ink Nightmare's ribs began to break with dull thuds, and more and more Black Blood spilled from the corners of his mouth, staining his clothes red and even dripping down his chin, corroding the soil and creating small pits. Ren Xiaoyao looked at Ink Nightmare's distorted face, mustered his last bit of strength, raised his hand, and hoarsely shouted at the Golden Giant Dragon, "Merge!" His voice was weak but firm, like a firefly in the darkness, carrying an undeniable determination. Every word exhausted his remaining strength, and after speaking, his body began to tremble slightly, and the scene before him became faintly blurred.

The dragon seemed to understand his command. The golden energy around it instantly compressed, enveloping Ink Nightmare within it to form a fist-sized golden sphere of light. The light on the surface of the sphere grew brighter and brighter, even revealing the figure of Ink Nightmare struggling frantically inside. His roars were blocked by the sphere, only faint muffled sounds could be heard. As the energy continued to compress, the evil power inside the sphere was completely purified, and Ink Nightmare's figure gradually became transparent. Finally, the sphere trembled slightly in mid-air and exploded with a bang. Ink Nightmare's body turned into dust, leaving not even a trace of Evil Fiendish Qi. Only a few fragments of black robes slowly drifted down, turning to ashes upon landing, and vanishing without a trace in the breeze, as if they had never existed.

As the crisis subsided, the Golden Giant Dragon's form gradually faded, dissipating like the receding tide, eventually transforming into specks of golden light that merged into the heavens and earth, becoming nourishment for this land. The Evil Mist in the world was completely purified, the dark clouds dispersed, and sunlight once again bathed the earth, its warm rays falling on every inch of land, as gentle as a mother's hand, soothing the wounds of war. The bloody trenches on the ground had completely healed, and new green shoots emerged from the soil, gleaming with a tender green, swaying gently in the wind. Tiny dewdrops clung to the leaves, reflecting the blue sky and white clouds, and even the afterimages of birds flying by. The shrubs previously corrupted by the Evil Mist sprouted new buds, their tender shoots a pale yellow, full of vitality, occasionally unfurling their leaves with a soft rustling sound. Several surviving gray sparrows perched on the branches, chirping melodiously, as if celebrating new life, occasionally pecking at the tender buds or preening their feathers, creating a scene of peace and tranquility.

Ren Xiaoyao could no longer hold on. His internal strength receded like a receding tide, his dantian was empty, and he couldn't even mobilize a trace of Chaos Energy. His body went limp, and he plummeted straight down from mid-air—his meridians were completely damaged, many were broken, and he could even feel his internal blood and qi colliding chaotically. He was covered in blood, his clothes were tattered, and his exposed skin was covered with hideous wounds. Some wounds were still bleeding, while others had scabbed over, but they ached faintly due to his weakness. His left arm hung limply, and the wound on his wrist was still oozing blood, which dripped into the air, forming tiny blood droplets. The blood droplets fell to the ground and were absorbed by the soil, nourishing tiny moss. He didn't even have the strength to open his eyes; his eyelids felt as heavy as lead. Only the faint rise and fall of his chest proved that he was still alive. His breaths were filled with the smell of blood and exhaustion, and each breath pulled at the wound in his chest, causing a sharp pain.

Before he lost consciousness, he vaguely saw the surviving cultivators running towards him: leading the group was a white-haired cultivator, his face filled with anxiety. Ignoring the rubble on the ground, he stumbled and rushed to the front, his boots torn by the stones, blood seeping from his exposed ankles, yet he seemed oblivious. Behind him, some carried simple wooden stretchers covered with clean burlap, others held porcelain bottles containing healing Pills, their faces full of concern, some even with tears in their eyes—tears of relief at surviving the ordeal, and gratitude towards Ren Xiaoyao. He also heard... The child, sheltered by his mother, stopped sobbing. His voice, still trembling with fear yet tinged with a sense of relief, stammered, "Mommy, the bad guy is gone. That big brother looks like he's about to fall." His mother's gentle, comforting voice followed, filled with the relief of surviving a close call. She whispered, "Don't be afraid, the cultivator uncles will save him. He protected us." He felt the warmth of the sunlight on his face, a warmth that dispelled the chill within him, like the gentle yet unwavering protection of Senior Cang Xuan, finally allowing his tense nerves to relax.

He knew that his predecessor had been protecting the Tianyan Continent for three thousand years. During this long period of time, his predecessor had experienced countless hardships and challenges, but he never gave up and always adhered to his duties and mission.

Now, he has finally succeeded in protecting this continent, keeping it free from external harm and threats. This is not only an honor for his predecessor, but also a blessing for the entire Tianyan Continent.

At this moment, he couldn't help but feel immense respect and gratitude for his predecessor. His predecessor's perseverance and tenacity taught him the true meaning of protection and responsibility. He resolved to take his predecessor as his role model and use his own strength to protect this continent, ensuring its eternal prosperity. However, his fingers could no longer grip the Creation Spear that had been his constant companion—the spear lay on the grass not far away, its tip gradually dimming like an extinguished flame, its former sharpness gone; the Creation Chaos Cauldron within his dantian had shattered into fragments, no longer usable, even its aura was gradually dissipating; from now on, he might only be an ordinary person watching this land revive, never again able to wield the spear, protect living beings, or follow in his predecessor's footsteps to reach the pinnacle of Martial Dao. But he had no regrets, for he had used his own strength to protect the vitality and stability of this world, to protect everything his predecessor had guarded for three thousand years, and to protect every vibrant life on this land.

Ren Xiaoyao's eyelids grew heavier and heavier, his vision blurring. The figures of the cultivators transformed into shimmering Light Spots of light, and the children's voices seemed distant, as if coming from the horizon. Finally, he closed his eyes completely and fell into a deep coma. Supported by the cultivators, his body slowly landed on the land he had protected with all his might—his cheek pressed against the damp earth, he could feel the vitality emanating from it, the subtle trembling of green shoots, the rustling of earthworms in the soil, proof of the earth's renewed life, and the meaning of his protection. The cultivators carefully tended to his wounds, first wiping away the blood with clean linen, then crushing Pills and applying them to the wounds. The fragrance of the Pills lingered in his nostrils, carrying a faint herbal scent. In the distance, the children had stopped sobbing and began chasing after the gray sparrows, their clear laughter echoing the sparrows' calls. In the world, only peace and the breath of new life remained, as if the previous catastrophe had never happened.