Yuan’s Ascension

Chapter 1220: Fall Of The Holy Emperor

The vast headquarters of the Qian Yang Holy Sect stretched out endlessly, with numerous Saints residing within their respective halls.

“Shang Yue, come here!”

“Fei Hua, hurry over at once.”

A series of urgent, harsh commands suddenly resonated deep within the minds of over ten Saints. Moreover, these voices seemed to trigger some deeply buried power, causing the eyes of Saint Shang Yue, Saint Fei Hua, and the other Saints to flicker with a faint red glow.

“It’s an order from the Holy Emperor!”

“There are enemies.”

“Quick, head to the forbidden zone to aid the Holy Emperor.” The ten-odd Saints reached an instant consensus, each bursting out of their hall and charging into the depths of the forbidden zone.

Rumble~ Above the immense forbidden zone, layer upon layer of arrays activated. The central array transformed into a sea of fire that stretched for over a hundred million li, engulfing the heavens and earth like an apocalyptic inferno.

The sheer power emanating from it shook the entire Qian Yang Holy Sect headquarters, instantly alarming the numerous Perennial elders and Overlord disciples of the sect.

“What’s that?”

“It’s coming from the direction of the forbidden zone. The Saints seem to have gone there.”

“The arrays of the forbidden zone have been triggered. Has a powerful enemy invaded us?” The many Perennials of the Qian Yang Holy Sect watched as streaks of light cut across the sky. It was unmistakably the aura of Saints.

“So many Saints from our Qian Yang Holy Sects are all heading over? What kind of enemy could it be? Perhaps the Holy Emperor of another holy sect has infiltrated?” The hearts of the Perennial powerhouses were filled with unease.

The Overlords’ perceptions were not as keen, leaving them both shocked and puzzled.

The core of the forbidden zone? Calculating the time, isn’t Wu Ji still in there? I hope he’s not in danger. And Father? It seems he’s gone there too. Overlord Shang Cai, who had a far sharper perception than most Overlords, felt extremely worried at this moment.

The blood contract oath only took effect when activated. To Holy Emperor Qian Yang, the various Overlords and Perennials of the holy sect weren’t qualified to join the fight. Summoning them? They would be mere cannon fodder.

…

Within the forbidden zone of the holy sect.

“Wu Ji, cease this madness at once!” Saint Jiu Xing’s voice cut through the air like shards of ice as he lunged forth. “How dare you offend the Holy Emperor…”

Though Saint Jiu Xing and Wu Yuan shared a deep bond—one that Saint Jiu Xing treasured greatly—the blood contract oath that bound him left no room for independent thought. Under the compelling influence of the blood droplet, his loyalty to Holy Emperor Qian Yang remained absolute and unquestioning. When the Holy Emperor issued his command, Saint Jiu Xing attacked without pause, despite the flicker of surprise that crossed his face.

At that moment, Wu Yuan’s mana body materialized.

“Another Overlord?” Saint Jiu Xing faltered, his brow furrowing. He was unable to perceive that it was Wu Yuan’s mana body, merely recognizing the newcomer as an unfamiliar, formidable Overlord.

“Die!” he swept his palms outward.

With each palm movement, the space around them transformed into a colossal expanse of celestial bodies. Countless streams of energy twisted and intertwined, radiating an eternal aura that enveloped Wu Yuan like a shroud of destruction.

“Saint Jiu Xing, I don’t want to kill you.” Wu Yuan’s voice resonated with cold clarity and underlying reluctance. He understood all too well that Saint Jiu Xing was merely a puppet, his will subservient to the blood contract’s commands.

Yet, even if the contract’s hold were somehow broken, would Saint Jiu Xing truly stand with him? Nothing was certain.

Wu Yuan weighed his options carefully. If possible, he would show mercy and spare Saint Jiu Xing’s life. But survival came first—and if pushed to the edge, he would not hesitate to deliver a fatal blow.

Whoosh! A blinding blade ray flashed from Wu Yuan’s ether body, its trajectory perfect. This saber strike carried terrifying power, slicing through heaven and earth. In a heartbeat, it shattered Saint Jiu Xing’s celestial body projection into fragments of dissipating light.

What? Saint Jiu Xing’s eyes widened in shock. This saber technique—how can it be so swift? I cannot even perceive the afterimages of the blade! Panic flooded through him as he desperately swung both palms to counter the attack.

Rumble~ After dispersing the celestial body projection, the blade still retained over eighty percent of its power as it crashed against Saint Jiu Xing’s defense. He barely managed to block the strike, but the terrifying impact force sent him hurtling backward. Crimson droplets trickled from the corner of his mouth.

The strength of a Standard Saint? How weak! Wu Yuan sighed inwardly. This strike from his ether body hadn’t even approached full power. Had he unleashed his true strength, Saint Jiu Xing would have been utterly annihilated.

During his millions of years of exploration throughout the Nine Realms, Wu Yuan had encountered numerous Saints, giving him a clear gauge of their capabilities. Two things had become evident during his travels: first, high-grade Xiantian artifacts seemed nonexistent in the Nine Realms—none of the Saints he’d encountered possessed such treasures; second, the Daos pioneered by the Saints of the Nine Realms were comparatively underdeveloped.

It makes perfect sense when I consider it carefully. Wu Yuan reflected.

Though the Nine Realms appeared vast—surpassing an Eternal Realm—they remained too isolated. Throughout countless ages, perhaps fewer than a hundred Saints had emerged from these lands. The rise of true powerhouses required more than natural talent; it demanded the right environment—abundant cultivation resources, ultimate techniques, and most crucially, rivals to compete against.

Wu Yuan’s own journey had been shaped by endless battles against formidable opponents, each trial pushing him to evolve until he became a Legend of the River.

Without any special opportunities, eternal powerhouses who pioneered ordinary self-created Daos would struggle to surpass the level of a Standard Saint. Reaching the level of a Peak Saint would prove exceptionally difficult. Full Saint power required Dao comprehension at the limit of the Saint stage, powerful artifacts, and mastery of top-tier ultimate secret arts.

The Nine Realms are nothing extraordinary. Wu Yuan concluded, his earlier wariness dissolving. Previously, the mysterious nature of the Holy Emperors had led him to suspect that they were True Saints, but having faced one in reality, his fear had evaporated. Full Saint level power, though formidable, remained an acceptable challenge.

What appeared to be a lengthy assessment had occurred in mere instants. As soon as Wu Yuan’s mana body had materialized, Saint Jiu Xing had charged forward—only to be immediately sent flying with a single saber strike from Wu Yuan’s ether body. The other Saints of the holy sect were still rushing toward the forbidden zone.

“How can you fail to capture a single Overlord? Useless fool!” Holy Emperor Qian Yang roared, his form bathed in endless flames.” His gaze narrowed as he assessed the battlefield. “Two Overlords? Wu Ji, could it be that this Overlord possesses power equal to yours?

“Subdue!” The Holy Emperor waved his hand with imperious confidence. Instantly, space itself distorted around them. The flames that stretched for ten million li across the void suddenly converged, transforming into searing chains of fire that radiated a terrifying aura. They extended like lightning toward Wu Yuan, seeking to entrap his mana body and ether body simultaneously.

Yet before these fiery chains could descend fully, a flash of fear crossed Holy Emperor Qian Yang’s eyes. “No!”

Psyche Annihilation! Wu Yuan’s mana body activated the Dream World, which held the mysterious Netherworld Sword. The weapon transformed into something formless and shapeless—a conceptual blade that followed the threads of destiny and karma, instantly striking at Holy Emperor Qian Yang’s core. Destroy!

This technique of the Psyche Arsenal class unleashed its full might.

Sizzle~ Formed from a strand of the Samsara Sword’s essence, the Netherworld Sword was technically a high-grade Xiantian artifact. Yet as a psyche weapon, it rivaled many soul-type Xiantian Instruments. In a heartbeat, it tore into Holy Emperor Qian Yang’s soul essence. Like countless brilliant swords, an uncompromising, destructive aura exerted its full might to obliterate his being.

“Destroy!!” This primal command, echoing as if from the dawn of creation, carried the profound principles of the Great Dao. It exploded within the depths of Holy Emperor Qian Yang’s spirit, causing his entire mind to blank momentarily before endless waves of agony assaulted his consciousness.

This was no ordinary pain—this was torment born from the depths of his soul and spirit, an absolute nightmare. The psyche weapon struck directly at his soul, crushing spirit and will—the most domineering of all possible attacks.

Psyche Arsenal class? Holy Emperor Qian Yang trembled with disbelief. How is this possible! How could a sempiternal lifeform of the Psyche Arsenal class be born within the Nine Realms? It’s absolutely impossible. The realization of his opponent’s power filled him with mounting dread.

The enemy was far too formidable! First an Overlord with Peak Saint level power, and now a soul class powerhouse? And not just any soul class practitioner, but the Psyche Arsenal class—a specialization that struck fear into the hearts of all powerhouses! Once a psyche weapon was deployed, only two outcomes existed: either success or death. Either the enemy perished, or they withstood the attack and turned the tables to annihilate the caster. Rarely did a third option present itself.

Wake up! Wake up! Holy Emperor Qian Yang roared within the confines of his mind. This incarnation of mine absolutely cannot die here—it must not!

Such powerful resistance. Wu Yuan observed, surprised as he felt the psychic power of his mana body deplete rapidly. What incredibly strong spirit and will!

Years earlier, on the Path of Ancients, Wu Yuan’s qi refiner self had struck down three Legends of the River. The difficulty of annihilating a Legend of the River with a psyche weapon was no less than killing a Standard Saint.

Typically, Standard Saints and Full Saints without specialized soul-type treasures showed similar resistance to soul attacks, as they were comparable in the fundamental order of life.

Over six million years had passed since then, and both his qi refiner self and mana body had progressed significantly, approaching the threshold of the third step. From Wu Yuan’s perspective, his mana body’s attack should have easily annihilated Holy Emperor Qian Yang—yet success proved elusive.

Could he possess a soul-type high-grade Xiantian artifact? The thought flashed through Wu Yuan’s mind as the Netherworld Sword that had penetrated Holy Emperor Qian Yang’s spirit suddenly dispersed into countless motes of light.

What a terrifying technique. Holy Emperor Qian Yang finally regained his senses, his form instantly retreating. He understood with perfect clarity—if he didn’t flee now, he might truly die at the hands of this fearsome Psyche Arsenal class powerhouse. His strategy simplified to a single desperate plan: order his subordinate Saints to keep the opponent occupied, regardless of whether they all perished in the attempt.

“Fleeing?” Wu Yuan’s gaze hardened to ice as his ether body transformed into a streak of brilliant light, hurtling forward with murderous intent. A terrifying aura exploded outward as his speed surpassed Holy Emperor Qian Yang’s by a slim margin.

“I may fear the Psyche Arsenal class powerhouse, but I’ve no reason to fear you.” Holy Emperor Qian Yang’s face contorted with rage as he lashed out with a vicious punch. His fist, wreathed in endless flames, resembled a dazzling star.

In the next breath, Wu Yuan’s ether body drew his saber once more. Though still wielding the high-grade Xiantian artifact Mo Yuan Sabers, his technique transformed, unleashing a myriad of blade rays that saturated the space between them.

As the blade rays manifested in their full glory, Holy Emperor Qian Yang’s expression of fierce confidence faltered. In the distance, Saint Jiu Xing and Saint Shang Yue, along with the other arriving Saints who had just reached the forbidden zone, all registered shock on their faces. As Saints with exceptionally keen perception, they immediately recognized the terrifying nature of this saber technique.

Impossible. Holy Emperor Qian Yang paled. This saber technique? Desperate now, he attempted to mount a defense.

Whoosh! Whoosh! Whoosh! Nine blade rays blossomed forth, instantly drawing vast amounts of spiritual qi from heaven and earth, coalescing to form a miniature chaotic spacetime. In the next moment, as if chaos itself had shattered—birthing primordial gods and devils at the dawn of heaven and earth—a blade ray sliced through, striking Holy Emperor Qian Yang’s fist.

Boom! The impact sent Holy Emperor Qian Yang flying backward, the flames surrounding his fist completely extinguished. His body crashed violently into the earth, sending huge boulders and clouds of dust billowing into the air.

This saber strike was none other than the sixth form of Wu Yuan’s ultimate technique, created by his body refiner self after over six million years of secluded cultivation—Worldforge! Vast as chaos, power limitless, converging to a single point before erupting in an instant—this was the essence of Worldforge.

With this move, Wu Yuan’s ether body’s combat prowess soared to new heights. Though not quite reaching the level of a True Saint, it was now comparable to the Full Saint level, enabling him to overpower Holy Emperor Qian Yang.

“What? Impossible!” Holy Emperor Qian Yang could hardly believe his senses. In their first clash, he had maintained the upper hand—yet in the blink of an eye, he found himself at an absolute disadvantage.

“Nothing is impossible,” Wu Yuan responded, his voice cold as he struck again with lightning speed.

“This!” Saint Jiu Xing, Saint Shang Yue, and the others hesitated momentarily despite being driven forward by their blood contract oaths. “Can an Overlord truly defeat a Holy Emperor?” The very thought left them utterly astounded.

This development was earth-shattering! Throughout their lives, the Holy Emperors had been invincible in their minds, not merely due to the influence of their oaths, but from witnessing the repeated displays of overwhelming might by the Holy Emperors. Yet today, this myth of invincibility was shattered before their eyes.

“You still can’t kill me,” Holy Emperor Qian Yang roared in fury, preparing to swing his fist to meet the next attack.

Suddenly, an invisible fluctuation descended once more, instantly invading his mind with a soft hum.

Ultimate technique—Myriad Rebirths Tribulation!

In that moment, Holy Emperor Qian Yang felt his consciousness plummet into endless darkness. Everything around him transformed into dream bubbles, countless events and eons rapidly flowing past, leaving him unable to distinguish between dream and reality.

He had succumbed. Wu Yuan’s mana body still possessed over sixty percent of his psychic power. While insufficient to eliminate him directly with his psyche weapon, he could influence Holy Emperor Qian Yang’s mind with a Psyche Dream class technique.

Whoosh! Once again, blade rays blossomed forth, covering the sky like a tapestry of destruction. The blade rays unleashed overwhelming might, engulfing Holy Emperor Qian Yang completely. Trapped in a sunken consciousness, he offered virtually no resistance, simply enduring the onslaught of attacks against his physical form.

Boom! Holy Emperor Qian Yang’s vital aura plummeted drastically. In battles between powerhouses, most of the impact from clashes was deflected with weapons. To withstand attacks purely with one’s body? No being, however powerful their defense, could endure for long.

“This is bad,” Saint Jiu Xing called out, panic evident in his voice. Saint Shang Yue and the others shared his alarm as they finally approached at full speed. “We must save the Holy Emperor!”

“A grand dream of a thousand autumns, what year is it now?” Wu Yuan’s mana body intoned, diverting part of his psyche power as his pupils grew hazy with concentration.

Hum~ An intangible force spread outward, affecting the dozen or so Saints who had just entered the forbidden zone. One by one, their eyes grew bewildered, and their movements slowed dramatically as they became ensnared in the illusion.

Such a large-scale psyche dream illusion art consumed tremendous psychic power, yet its effectiveness proved undeniable.

“An illusion art? A dreamscape!” One of the Saints muttered, struggling to maintain clarity.

“Rebirth, cycle after cycle.”

As the ten-odd Saints gradually awakened, their hearts were filled with shock and awe. Never before had they encountered such terrifying illusion art. The Nine Realms had never produced such a formidable being in all of history.

“Attack!” The moment the Saints regained clarity, they moved as one, brandishing weapons and unleashing arcane arts as they renewed their attack on Wu Yuan.

Whoosh! In the distance, amidst the broken earth and swirling debris, Wu Yuan’s ether body remained locked in fierce combat with Holy Emperor Qian Yang. The Holy Emperor would occasionally regain moments of clarity and struggle violently, only to fall victim to the psyche attack again, forced to endure Wu Yuan’s onslaught passively.

Countless chaotic qi streams enveloped the combatants, blade rays crisscrossing in patterns too complex for observers to follow with their eyes.

Then suddenly, everything fell silent.

Hm? The ten-odd Saints halted abruptly, the crimson in their eyes beginning to fade as their consciousness fully cleared.

At that moment, Saint Shang Yue, Saint Jiu Xing, and the others understood – Holy Emperor Qian Yang had fallen. He had died within the holy sect’s forbidden zone under the joint assault of two frighteningly powerful Overlords.