The gray-white light spot was only half an inch away from Yang Jian's eyebrows.
From a distance of half an inch, Yang Jian can see every twisted Destruction regular pattern inside the Pure Light point, as if something is crawling inside, swallowing up all the concepts of "existence" around it.
His body could no longer move.
The meridians dried up, Divine Elephant Particles burned out, and the shadow of Dominion Body completely dissipated. Even Three-Pointed Double-Edged Divine Saber couldn't hold it, and it was stuck diagonally in the void and slowly slid down.
Jade Pendant was broken, Pangu Axe Fragment was useless, Heavenly Dipper Battle Armor was broken into pieces and hung on the body, like tattered iron sheets.
All he could do was open his eyes and watch the dot of light float over.
"Junior Brother Yang--"
Yin Jiao's voice came from very far away, and his throat was broken. Chaos Ancestral Dragon sprinted with all his strength, and the scales on the dragon's body rubbed away sparks because of the speed.
But another gray-white light spot was already blocking his way.
Chaos Ancestral Dragon's pupils met the bean-sized light spot, and the entire dragon's body swayed uncontrollably, its head deflected, and it refused to rush forward.
Not timid.
It's instinctive.
Chaos Ancestral Dragon, who is quasi-Immortal Emperor Level, is not even qualified to get close to Destruction rules of the Sacrificial Dao Realm.
"Get out of the way!" Yin Jiao slapped the dragon's head with his palm.
Chaos Ancestral Dragon let out a low whine, turned his head back and hit the light spot.
The old man glanced at it and moved his index finger again.
The third gray-white light spot floated out, slowly and leisurely, drifting towards Yin Jiao.
Three light spots, three directions.
There is one in front of Yang Jian, one in front of Yin Jiao, and one that is floating towards the array behind the Twenty Million Army.
Daji's Heaven-Swallowing Demonic Jar trembled crazily, and the mouth of the jar faced the third point of light, trying to swallow it.
Gray-white light spots floated to the edge of the jar mouth, and a sharp hissing came from inside Demon Jar. The entire magic weapon shook violently three times, and the swallowing power of the jar mouth collapsed.
Daji turned pale and took several steps back.
"Can't swallow..."
Her voice was filled with panic that she had never heard before.
"This thing is not power, but rules. Heaven-Swallowing Demonic Jar cannot swallow the rules themselves."
The old man stood in the void, his hands behind his back, his cloudy eyes scanning the entire battlefield, as if looking at a group of ants.
"Who else wants to try?"
No one answered.
Tongtian was lying on a piece of broken Stars wreckage. The cracks on Qingping Sword were expanding. The corners of his mouth were full of blood. He tried his best to stand up, but his knees could not be straightened.
Nezha was half-kneeling on the other side. The tip of Fire-Tipped Spear's gun was broken. His right arm was hanging by his side, and the bones were misplaced. The flames on Wind-Fire Wheels flickered on and off.
Kong Xuan stood further away, Five Colors had two feathers broken, and the remaining three were dim. Five-Colored Divine Light could barely protect itself and could no longer spread.
Four people, plus Yin Jiao and Daji, six Primordial World Temple's strongest combatants were pinned to the ground with a few fingers by an old man who had just crawled out of Abyss.
"Yang Jian."
The old man's eyes fell on Yang Jian again, or in other words, on the piece of Pangu Axe Fragment that was as dim as scrap metal in his hand.
"Hand that thing over and I can spare your life."
Yang Jian's lips moved.
The sound was very soft, so soft that even Nezha couldn't hear it.
But the old man heard it.
"What did you say?"
"I said..." Yang Jian raised his head, his face covered in blood and Dust, but his eyes were so bright, "Have your spring and autumn dream."
The old man's expression did not change, and there was no emotion or anger in his cloudy eyes.
"Then go to hell."
The index finger flicks again.
Yang Jian The gray-white light spot in front of him accelerated.
It changed from floating to shooting out, going straight to the center of his eyebrows.
The half-inch distance, at this speed, doesn't even take a moment.
Tongtian roared, with blood foam in his throat.
"Yang Jian!"
Nezha's Fire-Tipped Spear came out and threw the last A Trace Samadhi True Fire towards the light spot. The gun body was crushed into powder by the power of rules before it even touched the light spot.
Kong Xuan The last Five-Colored Divine Light shot out a ray of light, which collapsed on its own halfway.
Yin Jiao's eyes are red.
He watched the light spot hit Yang Jian's eyebrows. Chaos Ancestral Dragon was also roaring, and Twenty Million Army was also roaring, but all the sounds became distant at this moment.
Yang Jian closed his eyes.
It's not acceptance of fate.
It's waiting.
He didn't know what he was waiting for.
Master said that living is more important than anything else.
But Master also said something else.
Temple disciple, don't kneel to heaven, don't kneel to the ground, don't kneel to anyone.
The light spot touched his eyebrows.
At that moment, Yang Jian felt A Trace coldness on his forehead.
Not burning pain, not tearing, but a kind of coldness that has been erased from the root of existence.
His consciousness began to blur.
Dominion Body's last remaining thoughts sent out the last faint hum in his body.
"Master..."
His lips moved silently.
In the distance, Yin Jiao's roar has turned into hoarse choking.
Daji's hands were shaking, Heaven-Swallowing Demonic Jar fell to the ground, and she even forgot to pick it up.
Tongtian's Qingping Sword inserted into the fragments of the void. His hand gripped the hilt of the sword tightly, and the bones of his knuckles creaked.
The old man looked at this scene and shook his head.
"It's a pity, it's a good seedling."
He turned around and cast his cloudy eyes in the direction of the Twenty Million Army in the distance.
"Next, it's your turn."
The third gray-white light spot is still floating towards the big Battle Formation column.
The second light spot approaches the face of Yin Jiao.
And the light spot in front of Yang Jian had already sunk half into the center of his eyebrows.
Right at this moment.
I don't know how far away in a certain direction, in a piece of void where even the coordinates cannot be defined, something moved.
Yang Jian The gray-white light spot on his forehead stopped.
It's not blocked, it's not rebounded.
It's stopped.
It was as if some indescribable force had pressed pause on a rule level.
In the old man's cloudy eyes, A Trace Transformation finally appeared.
He turned his head and looked in a direction too far away to be measured.
"This breath..."