Heaven-Locking Array Shattered, Immortal Sword Broken; Dog Paws Crushed in the Supreme Forbidden Zone

At the outskirts of the deep valley of Immortal-Breaking Mountain, strange phenomena filled the sky.

High in the clouds, the pale blue light curtain of the Heaven-Locking Array that had once sealed off the entire mountain range let out teeth-grinding cracks. The complete collapse of the array core in Black Mud City's inner city had triggered an irreversible chain of destruction.

Thick, twisted black fissures spread wildly downward from the dome of the light curtain, crawling across half the sky in the blink of an eye. Great chunks of array runes lost their support and shattered away, turning into glittering fragments that rained down upon the ground.

The immense spiritual energy sustaining this world-sealing barrier now poured out through those massive cracks hundreds and thousands of times faster. Without the array's protection, the grasses and trees around the deep valley, which had still retained a trace of life, visibly withered and yellowed. Their bark peeled away, and they crumbled into powder across the ground.

The entire valley sank into utter decay and desolation.

Song Que carried that top-grade flying sword and strode at the very front. A blood-red lifespan talisman was stuck to the center of his chest, strange red smoke curling from its surface. The spiritual energy around them had run dry, and Song Que could only burn away his own lifespan, forcefully squeezing out the vitality within his body to maintain the true essence in his nearly depleted dantian.

With every step he took, a few more white hairs appeared at his temples, and the wrinkles on his face deepened.

"Keep up! No stopping!"

Song Que sharply berated the group behind him. He suddenly swung his right arm, and the blade rolled forth a broken streak of azure sword qi, forcibly cleaving apart the thick poisonous miasma blocking their path.

Behind him, the dozen or so elite disciples of the Azure Firmament Sword Sect were pale as clay, their chests heaving violently as they crawled through the rotten mud on hands and feet. Passing through layer after layer of poison gas, they finally stepped into this vile land, where even the lowest-ranked demon beasts did not dare approach.

At the entrance to the deep valley, rotten mud flowed everywhere.

A massive City-Guarding Stele weighing thirty thousand jin stood ramrod straight in the center of the valley mouth. The stele was pitch-black from top to bottom, without a single adornment, its surface covered in rough rock patterns. It firmly suppressed the most vital earth-vein aperture below, its immense weight crushing the surrounding rock layers into a web of cracks.

With this black stone as its center, a savage, tyrannical spirit-nullifying force field that rejected every law of the immortal path spread outward without restraint, violently crushing the surrounding air.

Song Que led the group across that invisible boundary without any precautions.

They stepped into the area within fifteen zhang of the stele.

Disaster descended.

A series of muffled explosions erupted in unison from the chests of the dozen elite disciples behind Song Que. The last traces of spiritual energy remaining in this space were forcibly sucked dry and ground to pieces by the force field.

The array patterns on the flying swords they had controlled with their thoughts, hovering at their waists or above their palms as a warning, flickered twice before completely dimming. The azure true light on the blades scattered on the spot.

Clang!

Clang, clang, clang!

Without true essence to sustain them, the mental connection between the flying swords and their sword cultivators was brutally severed. One immortal artifact after another, which could usually slice through iron like mud, fell into the foul-smelling sludge and became a heap of useless scrap metal.

That was not all. Ancient, desolate pressure bore directly down upon every body.

Any heavy object forged from metal suddenly became more than ten times heavier within this force field.

On the right side of the group, a burly outer sect sword cultivator had a Black-Iron broadsword weighing a full hundred jin slung across his back. With true essence supporting it, that hundred jin was usually as light as nothing on his back.

But the instant he stepped within fifteen zhang, his true essence completely scattered. The hundred-jin broadsword on his back abruptly became a thousand-jun warhammer.

Its massive weight smashed into his back without the slightest cushioning. The sword cultivator's legs buckled violently, his knees smashing the bluestone beneath him to pieces. He pitched forward uncontrollably and plunged straight into a mud pit.

Crack!

The heavy sword guard pinned down his shoulder, and the crisp crack of breaking bones rang clearly through the valley. His fragile collarbone snapped on the spot, jagged white bone piercing through his daoist robe and turning up scarlet flesh.

"Save me! It's too heavy! Pull me up!"

The sword cultivator was nailed to the muddy ground beneath the thousand-jun sword, his limbs twitching wildly as he vomited mouthful after mouthful of black mud and blood, letting out shrieks of utter agony. Several disciples beside him were so frightened that they tried to reach out and pull him free, only to find that the gravity pressing on their own legs made it impossible even to bend at the waist.

Song Que's face changed dramatically.

The immense pressure crashed down along his shoulders, forcing his back to bend. Without hesitation, he opened his mouth and bit down hard on the tip of his tongue.

A strong taste of rust surged into his nose. Borrowing the stimulation of that piercing pain, Song Que clenched the hilt of the top-grade flying sword with both hands and used all his strength to drive its tip into a crack in the hard rock.

Panting heavily, the foundation of his Foundation Establishment Realm cultivation finally showed its worth. Supported by his flying sword, he barely managed to straighten his back instead of falling to his knees on the spot. Yet his legs trembled without cease, unbearably heavy; even lifting a heel and shifting half an inch had become a distant dream.

"You demon cultivator who hides behind tricks! Get out here!"

Cold sweat streamed down Song Que's forehead as he let out a fierce but hollow roar. Unwilling to be at another's mercy, he forcibly wrung out the last shred of mental power in his sea of consciousness, trying to release his divine sense and probe for the enemy lurking in the darkness.

His invisible mental power had barely extended less than half a chi beyond his brow.

Boom!

The omnipresent spirit-nullifying force field surged back like a tide and, with the force of rotting wood collapsing, crushed Song Que's divine sense into dust on the spot.

An explosion rang out inside Song Que's head. His eardrums swelled, and two streams of blood flowed straight from his nostrils and the corners of his eyes. He had completely become blind, losing all sense of movement even one zhang away.

Deep within the cave, all was pitch-black.

A-Nan crouched beside the Netherwind Wolf pelt, her two tender little hands tightly gripping that rag doll with one ear missing. The little girl tilted her head. Though the white film over her eyes prevented her from seeing, her sense of smell was sharp to an extreme.

She lifted her head slightly, her little nose twitching hard twice in the air.

"Lu Chen, dirty things came in from outside."

The little girl leaned toward the edge of the boulder. Her voice was soft and sweet as she frowned and warned in a low voice, "The blood on them smells especially bad."

"Be good. Close your eyes and sleep. I'll go clear away the dirty things."

In the darkness, Lu Chen straightened his massive body. His voice was deep and hoarse, without the slightest excess emotion. His broad palm rubbed A-Nan's head once, then he turned toward the cave entrance.

Bare from the waist up, Lu Chen drove the supreme qi and blood of the twelfth layer of Iron Cloth Shirt to its utmost limit without holding back.

A thick iron-gray hide completely emerged over his body, while massive knots of muscle bulged high. Beneath those muscles, dark golden patterns crazily crept and intertwined. Scalding pure-yang qi and blood raced endlessly through his veins, making his entire body radiate the savage aura of an ancient primordial beast.

His overflowing qi and blood scorched the surrounding air, sending up waves of white smoke.

He took heavy steps and walked out of the cave one step at a time.

Barefoot, Lu Chen's thick soles stepped onto the hard granite at the cave entrance.

Bang!

Without using even a trace of true essence, pure physical brute force crushed the stones underfoot into powder. Chips of rock and dust scattered outward.

Every step he took made the ground of the entire deep valley tremble. This wild destructive power, belonging solely to mortal martial artists, brought devastating psychological oppression to those immortal sect disciples who had lost the support of their spells in this land where all laws were empty.

The heavy footsteps stopped ten paces away.

Song Que stared straight ahead. At last, he saw his enemy clearly.

The other man's face was cold and expressionless. No true essence rippled from his body, nor did he wear any immortal artifact capable of warding off disaster. Aside from the Black-Iron Chain wrapped around his right arm, this body possessed only a savage physical form of utter purity, furiously spewing violent heat waves outward.

Song Que's pupils instantly shrank to pinpoints.

His proud Foundation Establishment Realm cultivation gave him not the slightest sense of security at this moment. A terror that only a lowly prey animal felt when facing an apex predator pierced through his chest in an instant and clutched his heart tightly.

Song Que even stopped breathing.

Beside him, an inner sect disciple completely broke down.

"Kill him! He's just a mortal without spiritual roots!"

The disciple let out a shrill, distorted scream and scrambled backward. His right hand frantically searched through his robes, pulling out an offensive spirit talisman stained with mud. He disregarded everything and squeezed out the last drop of true essence in his dantian, desperately channeling it toward his fingertips, trying to forcibly activate the talisman and save his life.

A faint light had only just appeared on the talisman's surface.

Lu Chen gave him no chance at all.

The thick muscles in his thighs abruptly contracted and released. Terrifying explosive force detonated beneath his feet, blasting a half-chi-deep crater into the ground.

In the span of a breath, Lu Chen's massive body crossed the distance of ten paces, shrinking the earth to an inch. Carrying a wave of scalding heat that rushed head-on, he appeared directly before the disciple's face.

He neither drew a blade nor formed a hand seal.

Lu Chen extended that large hand covered in calluses and dark golden patterns, clamping down on the disciple's right hand as he cast his spell. His five fingers suddenly tightened inward, exerting force with savage violence.

"Ah—!"

A miserable scream tore through the valley once more.

There were no dazzling lights of any spell. The hand clutching the spirit talisman, along with the finger bones and wrist within it, was crushed apart by Lu Chen's unreasonable brute force.

Shattered bones pierced through flesh, and the talisman was soaked in blood. The entire right hand instantly became a mangled heap of flesh, black blood dripping down from it in a steady patter.

In this supreme dead land that forbade every immortal art, he did not even have the right to form a hand seal.

Lu Chen casually flung away the blood and gore between his fingers, then exerted force beneath his feet again. Borrowing the terrifying momentum of his forward charge and carrying incomparably violent killing intent, he rammed his shoulder directly into the dim, tottering Azure Firmament Sword Formation ahead.