Yuan Wuxing's body halted in midair. He was covered in blood; everything below his left shoulder had completely vanished. His right arm hung at his side, and several gashes had split open across his right leg during the earlier battle.
His Five Elements Heavenly Bead had completely shattered. Even that cluster of five-colored light had dispersed.
All four of his Great Daos had gone dark. The cracks in his Dao foundation were so dense that even the foundation itself no longer remained.
His divine soul stood on the brink of collapse, his life on the verge of ebbing away.
Yet he did not fall.
He stood there, straight as a spear.
"Trash?"
His voice was soft, so soft that only he himself could hear it.
Yet the corners of his lips curled in the faintest arc. It was not a smile, but a kind of release.
"I was always trash. In your eyes, I had always been trash—trash with no background, no foundation, no one to stand behind me. Trash you could suppress at will, strip of everything at will, cast aside at will."
His voice grew louder and colder, like ice that had lain frozen for eternity shattering apart.
"But today, this piece of trash stopped all of you. Dozens of myths, over a hundred Emperor Venerables, hundreds of God Kings—all of you were stopped by one piece of trash."
"Where is that self-proclaimed nobility of yours now?"
The battlefield fell utterly silent.
Not one of those fossilized mythic elders, Emperor Venerables, or God Kings could answer him.
Because he spoke the truth. Dozens of myths, so many Emperor Venerables and God Kings, with top-tier formation inscriptions laid down—yet they had been kept outside the mountain by a piece of trash whose Five Elements Heavenly Bead had shattered, whose