It seemed the Lord of the Dead had sensed the power surrounding Xu Zimo.
He frowned slightly.
The wishful lamp in his hand transformed once more.
Previously, the wishful lamp had become a shield, capable of blocking all attacks in the world.
But now, the wishful lamp took the shape of a spear.
Though the word "spear" did not sound particularly domineering,
this spear represented the sharpest spear in the world.
The Lord of the Dead controlled the spear and thrust it viciously at Xu Zimo.
Though the two were fighting, it was not a battle to the death.
Yet both of them were taking it very seriously.
The Lord of the Dead was serious because he needed to uphold his status as a ruler and would not permit Xu Zimo's offense.
He was also using his own Great Dao to test against Xu Zimo's, examining himself through it and filling in his shortcomings.
Xu Zimo's seriousness, meanwhile, was purely for the sake of his own Great Dao.
The myriad Great Daos were beyond reach.
But every battle against a powerful foe allowed him to take another step forward.
A journey of a thousand miles began beneath one's feet.
A nine-story tower rose from piled earth.
As long as something changed, it was good.
Even if this goal was immensely difficult, as long as he advanced step by steadfast step,
one day, Xu Zimo would realize his vision of the myriad Great Daos.
What never changed was stagnant water.
All things in the world were bound within change.
At this moment, when the sharpest spear in the world descended,
the spear tip condensed the strongest power of annihilation.
It was as though all power at its limits had been fused into that single point,
then erupted outward from that point