The Tragic Thousand-Year War

Wei Wujiang's interlude quickly passed, and everyone's attention focused on the Thousand-Year War.

The teleportation lasted roughly the time it took to drink a cup of tea. The vast, barren island was now filled with figures everywhere.

Heavenly Immortals—an unimaginable number of Heavenly Immortals—had all been gathered there.

Battle broke out swiftly.

The Heavenly Immortals began hunting, slaughtering the prey at their sides.

Some powerhouses immediately launched pursuits, one person battling several alone. They wielded lightning, brimming with destructive force.

With a single bolt of lightning, an entire mountain range evaporated into nothingness.

From within the mountains, dozens of Heavenly Immortals staggered out, drenched in blood. Some had their shoulders shattered, some their lower bodies smashed apart, and some had their chests pierced clean through.

Immortals possessed formidable immortality, their life force beyond imagination.

Even when grievously wounded, they could survive for a long time and would not perish in a short while.

They screamed and wailed.

For the power that had destroyed their mighty bodies had not vanished. Like maggots clinging to bone, it continuously annihilated and mangled them.

Only after quite some time did death finally come for them.

It was far too brutal, like death by a thousand cuts. Before dying, their foundations and Great Dao were stripped away bit by bit. That pain was unimaginable; every second stretched as long as months or years. Even the toughest nerves could not withstand such agony.

Flames.

Ice.

Gales.

Torrential rain.

Countless Dao arts and divine abilities played out across the isolated island.

There were sword lights, arrow feathers, blades that tore through space, and flowers that froze time.

There was unseen karma, and there were silent curses.

Some Heavenly Immortals had already formed alliances, making life-binding vows outside, watching over one another and forbidding betrayal. Once inside, they