Revealing His Edge

Yanbei Pass.

Within Lu Zhen's inner realm, the blazing sun and the coiling azure dragon slowly revolved in a strange rhythm.

Metal restrained wood; wood generated metal.

Previously, when he had used flying swords to clear the battlefield, he had dispersed metal's sharpness, turning it into flying birds and swimming fish.

But the insect ancestors' five hundred thousand dragon-force was concentration.

They tightly kneaded the blood qi of tens of thousands of insect soldiers into a single rope—brutal, yet invincible.

"Concentrate..."

Lu Zhen's thousand flying swords began to hum violently.

Dawn was approaching. On the distant horizon, the black tide of insects surged once more.

Four insect ancestors, each ten thousand meters tall, slowly advanced like four moving black mountains, carrying a suffocating pressure.

"Lu Zhen, prepare to withdraw." Nie Xingkong walked over from the side, his face pale and his aura somewhat unsteady.

After more than a dozen bloody battles in a single day, even his old bones were nearly unable to hold on.

"Another thirty li back is Horsefall Slope. The terrain there is dangerous. We can hold them off for another half day."

Lu Zhen rose to his feet.

"No retreat," he said calmly.

Nie Xingkong froze.

"No retreat? The combined attack of four insect ancestors—given our current condition, facing it head-on means death."

"We've retreated more than a dozen times. That's enough." Lu Zhen looked toward the four black mountains.

He took a step forward and stood at the very edge of the broken cliff.

"After making a racket all day, I gained some insight. I'll try cutting down an insect ancestor."

The moment his words fell.

A crimson-gold divine avatar twenty-five thousand meters tall rose from the ground with a thunderous roar.

All light converged at the tip of Lu Zhen's raised right index finger.