The Void Devouring Flame's face was blurred, unreadable—but the unstable surge of pitch-black fire around its body made clear just how foul its mood was.
"Damn it!"
The curse boomed like thunder. The restrained fury in its voice sent shivers through the nearby Hun Clan Dou Saint, who trembled uncontrollably, terrified of being caught in its wrath.
Boom!
The Void Devouring Flame moved. Its body turned into a bolt of black lightning, streaking toward the other battlefield. Though its condition was far from ideal—its soul seared with agony, its strength diminished—its fury drove it onward.
The Death World Formation had been broken. With a gap opened, the dense Death Qi now had a vent through which it poured out violently, worsening the Void Devouring Flame's burden.
After all, it had used its own body to devour and seal this realm. The rupture meant its power had to bear even greater strain. One misstep, and the Lei and Yan Clans might truly break free.
Elsewhere, Lei Ying and Yan Jin had finally annihilated Hun Yuantian and the Deathly Silence Gate he guarded. The endless tide of Death Qi that had smothered the skies at last began to dissipate.
The two exhaled in relief. Though three 8-Star Dou Saints and three gates remained, the formation was no longer whole. And once unity was broken—there was hope for survival.
Their formations, however, had reached their limits. The Ten Thousand Lightning Prison Formation and the Flame Abyss Demon-Sealing Formation dimmed rapidly, their supporting elders drained and weak, many forced to swallow pills to stay standing.
"Clan Leader, what should we do now?"
The elders gathered close, faces etched with fear. Their earlier confidence had long vanished.
Everyone understood: this had begun as a plan to hunt the Hun Clan.
Yet in the end, the tables turned—the hidden might of the Hun Clan had crushed their alliance instead, leaving them trapped and surrounded.
Lei Ying met Yan Jin's gaze, each seeing the same grim resolve reflected in the other's eyes. They exchanged words swiftly and gave their commands.
"Abandon the Yao Clan. Break through immediately."
The plan had failed. But at least they had gained something: they now knew the depth of the Hun Clan's hidden strength, and one of the four Deathly Silence Gates was destroyed. Without another to replace it, the Death World Formation was crippled.
"This defeat isn't our fault!" Lei Ying roared, his voice echoing across the skies. "The Hun Clan's hidden strength was simply too great! Follow me—if they won't let us live, then we'll make them die!"
"Yes!" The soldiers' shout rolled like thunder. In this hopeless situation, Lei Ying's words were a spark that reignited their fighting spirit. Despair gave way to a fierce will to survive.
Then, an icy, mocking voice swept through the air:
"You came here and still dream of leaving alive? Foolish."
The Void Devouring Flame materialized in the distance, its figure warped in the wavering black fire. Facing the rallying Lei and Yan Clans, it sneered coldly.
"Hun Tiansheng, Hun Yao, Hun Feng—stop hiding and come out. Kill the Lei Clan. Leave none alive. I'll handle Yan Jin myself."
"Yes, my lord!"
Three figures emerged as the thinning Death Qi rolled away—three 8-Star Dou Saints, each guarding a remaining Deathly Silence Gate. Their eyes glowed with obedience and awe.
The Void Devouring Flame's authority in the Hun Clan was second only to Hun Tiandi himself. Even these ancient elders dared not defy its will.
Lei Ying and Yan Jin's expressions turned grave. Both were late-stage 8-Star Dou Saints, but against a being who had once stood at 9-Star… they were like ants before a storm.
Then, something caught their attention.
Though the Void Devouring Flame's aura was still terrifyingly oppressive, its strength seemed diminished—its energy no longer overwhelming. It felt… weaker.
Not invincible.
Perhaps Emperor Yao's sacrifice had indeed left it with irreversible damage.
But they had no time to dwell on it. With a surge of killing intent, the Void Devouring Flame lunged toward Yan Jin. The sky trembled beneath its murderous will.
Boom! Boom!
Yan Jin met the attack head-on, flames roaring to life. Lei Ying darted forward to assist but was blocked by Hun Tiansheng and Hun Yao, while the other clan elders were intercepted by Hun Feng's group.
The heavens quaked. Space shattered and reformed. Shockwaves rippled across the battlefield, heavy and suffocating, pressing down on every soul present.
The fog of Death Qi thinned. The world above was still dim, but no longer the impenetrable abyss it once was—sight and Spiritual Perception returned, though faintly.
Watching the chaos, Liu Xi's eyes held a trace of regret. Now that the Death Qi had dispersed, his opportunity to strike unseen was gone. Any future move would have to be made in full view of the world.
Elder Shen Nong looked across the desolation, his wrinkled face filled with sorrow. "The Hun Clan's cruelty knows no bounds," he murmured. "If they become masters of the continent, it will be its doom."
His words were not without reason. The Yao Clan's Spatial Realm—once rich and vibrant—was now a true land of death.
Endless mountains stretched into the horizon, the once-flourishing medicinal fields now withered and grey. No life remained. On the mountainsides and plazas below—everywhere lay bones.
From their tattered robes, most were clearly of the Yao Clan, though a few belonged to the Hun, Lei, and Yan Clans.
The Lei and Yan Clans had fared better—their elites protected by their formations—but the Yao Clan had suffered a massacre.
Their warriors, elders, and even their younger generations—all gone.
Yao Dan stood amid the ruin, eyes lifeless, heart twisted in agony. It felt as if an invisible hand had crushed his chest. Coldness spread through his limbs. The once-proud Yao Clan was gone.
Pfft!
Yao Dan's dazed body staggered. His opponent, far less distracted, struck mercilessly. A violent blast of Dou Qi slammed into him, tearing his chest open—flesh split, organs shattered, blood spurting out.
"Hahaha…"
He laughed—broken, hollow, and despairing. His bloodless face and crimson eyes made him look more ghost than man, laughter twisting into a wail of anguish.
Blood tears streamed down his cheeks as he glared across the battlefield—at the Void Devouring Flame, at Lei Ying, at Yan Jin… even at Zhu Bei.
Hatred burned in his eyes.
Hatred for the Void Devouring Flame's cruelty.
Hatred for Lei Ying and Yan Jin's powerlessness.
Hatred for Zhu Bei's indifference.
Because of them all, the Yao Clan had perished.
"Then die with us!"
Yao Dan's voice was cold, his body trembling as he gathered the last of his power. His broken form flared with a desperate light—and then, he exploded.
Boom!
The heavens darkened. Gales howled, carrying waves of Dou Qi in all directions, sweeping across the battlefield in an endless storm.
(End of Chapter)
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