Within the void's interlayer, deep and lightless, lay a deathly silence that seemed eternal and unchanging.
Cheng Buzheng stood quietly behind the void barrier, his figure seeming to meld into the endless darkness.
His gaze pierced through the barrier and fell upon the shadows outside, which blotted out the sky as demonic aura surged to the heavens—
It was the army of the Black Spirit Tiger Shark Clan, its ranks grim and orderly, baleful qi filling the air as it advanced mightily toward the Golden Flood Dragon Clan's territory.
The corners of his lips curved slightly, revealing an expression that was almost a smile, yet not quite.
"This grand spectacle of forcing the ruler from power is truly a rare sight in the Cultivation World!"
He patted the nonexistent melon-seed shells in his hand, his movements leisurely, as though he truly were watching a fine show.
Then he gave a light chuckle, his tone carrying a touch of amusement and a touch of cold indifference.
Afterward, he put away his mood for watching the show, his expression gradually turning solemn as he carefully reviewed the farce that had just unfolded.
One doubt after another silently surfaced in his mind like undercurrents.
First was the secret art Ao Yuan had used before his death...
The power it ultimately unleashed was in no way inferior to a full-force strike from an early Spirit Transformation Mortal Cultivator.
It even seemed to surpass it slightly.
This simply shattered the ironclad understanding that had prevailed in the Cultivation World for countless years.
Even Cheng Buzheng himself had been shaken by the terrifying power contained within Ao Yuan's final strike.
He asked himself: if he were still in the Half-Venerable Realm, there was absolutely no way he could unleash such a heaven-destroying, earth-shattering blow.
Escaping alive