A Little More Each Year: From Mountain Villager to Dao Ancestor of the Immortal Realm
Chapter 1872

Ultimate Dao

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Myriad Profound Eastern Land frontier, Heavenly Palace garrison.

Ten thousand layers of tribulation clouds twisted into a blood-colored vortex across the Immortal Firmament. Every bolt of lightning that struck carried shattered Dao Artifact fragments, broken halberds and ruined swords whirling madly in the air, carving hundreds of millions of violet-black fissures through the sky. What seeped from those cracks was not heavenly light, but viscous waterfalls of immortal blood—

Those were the remains of Immortals who had died in battle three thousand years ago, their undying battle intent still steaming through the void to this day!

Across a hundred thousand miles of scorched earth, severed Immortal Mountains jutted diagonally into the ground like the broken halberds of colossal spirits.

The mountainsides were covered in spiderweb-like Dao-Shattering Wounds. Boiling Hunyuan immortal qi erupted from the rifts—when a Half-Immortal Realm expert had self-detonated, he had actually refined an entire earth vein into an eternally burning Dao-incinerating furnace!

Twelve battered Dao-Annihilating War Flags billowed amid the immortal astral storm, their banners bearing the Zhoutian Star-Dome Diagram already soaked through with bloodstains.

Glazed Dao bones lay piled beneath the flagpoles. Every skeleton remained frozen in the posture of forming hand seals and casting arts, the lingering Dao techniques around their fingers detonating amid the dead silence.

A bloody rain poured down from the Immortal Firmament, its droplets condensing into sword shapes in midair.

This was no ordinary rain. It was the phenomenon of Heaven's Weeping, formed from the Origin blood essence scattered by Tribulation Transcendence Realm cultivators. Every blood-sword bore the most frenzied battle intent its master had possessed in life.

The ground's original color had long since become impossible to distinguish. Layer upon layer of immortal blood had pooled into crimson crystal swamps.

This was merely one corner of the battlefield—bloody and crazed.

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