Chapter Forty-Six: The Unyielding Elder

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Western Hunan, scorched by the fierce sun, the land shattered, mountains and rivers broken, city ruins lying silent and dead. Occasionally, birds flitted by, their cries echoing in the vast sky; withered grass swayed, barely clinging to life, leaves falling without a sound.

Long Shaoxian walked amidst the ruins, guided here by the fluctuations of the Corpse Dao. Between the remnants of the city, a canyon cleaved the earth, rivers of lava roiling below, terrifying as the depths of hell.

Stones dropped into the chasm, vanishing instantly, not even a ripple to mark their descent.

Long Shaoxian’s face was expressionless. She could sense the Corpse Dao’s turbulence emanating from beneath the lava—its depth unknown, but Luo Longyu was certainly down there.

The thought of Luo Longyu sent a surge of murderous intent through Long Shaoxian’s heart. She could not forget the bloody scenes from the day the Xuan Yi Center was attacked. She did not even know why Luo Longyu had come to this point—was it truly driven by resentment?

“Retreat!”

Just as Long Shaoxian prepared to storm into the lava, a sudden wild wind erupted. A gentle but commanding voice rode the gale, a force like mountains and seas crashed down, sand and dust swirling as if a sandstorm had descended, imposing a tremendous threat.

Long Shaoxian braced herself, swiftly retreating several hundred meters. At the same time, her Dragon Halberd manifested, transforming into a blood-red beam that pierced the sky, tearing through the sandstorm.

A clear metallic clang rang out—the Dragon Halberd spun out from the storm, and Long Shaoxian leapt to catch it, only to be thrown back by its force, sliding dozens of meters across the ground before regaining her stance.

When the chaos subsided, an old man sat amid the concrete rubble, calmly puffing on a dry pipe. Beside him, a large yellow dog crouched, growling low at Long Shaoxian.

“A young dragon, hmm. Too impulsive—easy prey for enemies. Calm your mind; what you see may not be real,” the old man said, his tone unruffled as he gazed at Long Shaoxian.

Long Shaoxian’s eyes glimmered with killing intent. “Your words are unnecessary. Hand over Luo Longyu—I do not wish to be your enemy.”

“I don’t wish to be your enemy either, but I truly cannot give the child to you. Go do what you must, don’t act rashly,” the old man replied, tapping his pipe.

“Luo Longyu has killed dozens—he has violated the national law—”

“So what if he killed a hundred? In fact, he didn’t kill those people. National law? Ha, the nation is almost gone—what use is the law?” The old man cut her off.

“I will investigate who is truly responsible once I capture him,” Long Shaoxian pressed.

The old man glanced at her. “You have no time to waste—Void Spirits threaten us, foreign races collude with them. Instead of investigating this Corpse Dao, you should be dealing with them. Foolish.”

“I don’t need your advice. Will you yield or not?” Long Shaoxian’s voice was steely, her Dragon Halberd raised high, thunder growling across the clear sky—a show of force, ready for battle.

The old man sat unmoved, murmuring, “It’s said the Dragon Clan is proud—today I see it’s true.” Then he spoke loudly, “Seems I must teach you a lesson before you leave. Come, let this old man see your clan’s divine powers.”

“Fine! Don’t blame me for what comes next!” Long Shaoxian’s gaze hardened. Her Dragon Halberd summoned thunder from the heavens, surging down like a reversed Milky Way, terrifying in its momentum.

The old man’s lips curled into a faint smile. He raised one hand, imprinting a seal upon the sky; lightning was caught in his palm, crushed to dust in an instant. The unleashed energy swept away all nearby ruins, its destructive power staggering.

Long Shaoxian pressed her attack with the Dragon Halberd, but the old man met it with his hand. His palm, dry as kindling, seemed forged of divine iron—no matter how Long Shaoxian strained, she could not harm him. Even more astonishing, the old man never once rose from his seat.

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“Dragon Clan’s Collapse-the-Heavens Hand!” Realizing the old man’s strength, Long Shaoxian held nothing back. She summoned the Dragon Claw, brimming with killing intent, striking for the old man’s face. The old man flicked aside the halberd and caught the Dragon Claw, trapping Long Shaoxian with a single move. Puffing his pipe leisurely, he said, “Collapse-the-Heavens is ruthless, but when faced with Dragon-Binding Hand, it’s nothing special.” With that, he tapped Long Shaoxian’s smooth forehead with his pipe and tossed her aside.

Long Shaoxian landed awkwardly, glaring at the old man, while the yellow dog barked furiously at her.

For a moment, the old man’s gaze sharpened. He muttered, “At last, they’ve arrived.” He pointed into the air, and a golden finger seal tore through the sky, whipping across the earth in a whirlwind.

The force gouged a trench dozens of meters deep into the ground, the energy waves driving Long Shaoxian back again. Watching the golden seal vanish into the distance, her face turned pale—she almost cried out, “Divine King’s Finger of Cangshan!”

The golden seal, unstoppable, skimmed the earth, shattering mountains and sending waves of dust sky-high. Its unparalleled killing power was beyond Long Shaoxian’s imagination.

A Z-9 helicopter had just flown over a mountain peak when its crew saw dust billowing below—a golden light pierced the mountains, speeding away, its force shaking the helicopter and triggering alarms.

“What the hell is that?!” Zuo Baixing, newly returned from injury, exclaimed.

Elder Ge glanced toward the source of the golden light. “Western Hunan.”

Before Long Shaoxian could recover from the shock of the Divine King’s Finger, a black figure erupted from the old man’s crown, nearly a hundred yards high, vanishing into the sky. Next, a giant black blade descended from above, like a mountain falling from heaven, raising a storm upon the distant earth.

“An external incarnation…” Long Shaoxian was almost numb with awe. The old man had unleashed two great divine arts in succession, and their earlier bout had been mere sport for him. This was his true strength. But what existed in the distance to merit such caution?

“Little dragon, stand behind me. These enemies are not yours to face.” The old man’s expression was grave; his tone carried a hint of authority as he finally rose to his feet.

It was clear now—the distant arrivals were the adversaries the old man meant to face in earnest.

Long Shaoxian did not hesitate, retreating behind him. Watching his frail silhouette, she felt almost as if in a dream. The old man’s presence was vast, like a reborn god or demon; she could hardly believe such power still existed on Earth. Even among the Dragon Clan, few could match him.

“Little dragon, I said before—what you see may not be real. The enemy who impersonated Luo Longyu will soon reveal himself. The real Luo Longyu has never left this place.” The old man spoke slowly, his back to Long Shaoxian.

She remained silent, stunned by the sudden turn of events.

The Z-9 soon appeared on the horizon. Elder Ge and his companions landed, gazing at the powerful old man and Long Shaoxian behind him. None dared act rashly—the enormous trench, dozens of meters deep, still gaped before them.

Eyes of Five focused his gaze on the distance, his tone grave. “Elder Ge, a powerful being approaches rapidly—there’s no Void Spirit fluctuation.”

Elder Ge nodded.

“All of you, get behind me,” the old man said, glancing at Elder Ge and his group.

Zuo Baixing and the others looked to Elder Ge, who nodded, leading them behind the old man.

“No matter what happens, guard this place. The enemy intends to kill Luo Longyu and the young dragon.”

“Why?” Zuo Baixing asked.

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“There is no why. Enemies with great potential are eliminated first,” the old man replied curtly.

A piercing whistle sounded from the horizon. As it faded, a colossal phantom appeared between heaven and earth, clad in a long robe, its face indistinct save for eyes shining with white light. Its presence was so faint it seemed almost nonexistent.

“Interstellar projection—a low-rank technique,” Long Shaoxian commented. The Dragon Clan’s technology far surpassed humanity’s; such communication methods were common among them.

The projection’s eyes were sharp, its gaze icy as it stared at the old man. “Do you think you alone can defy destiny’s tide?”

“Destiny needs no defiance. In the growth of the Corpse Dao, stopping you is enough,” the old man answered calmly.

The projection sneered. “The Void God descends—this is fate. You, an old man near death, cannot change it. Why not find a quiet place to enjoy your final years, instead of coming here to die?”

“To die? By your hand?” The old man’s tone was mild as spring breeze, yet his aura swept across the land, stirring Elder Ge and his companions.

He spoke no further, but slowly extended a hand toward the projection and intoned, “Demon-Suppressing: Bind!” His fist clenched, unleashing a tidal wave of force—the intent of his punch unmatched. Elder Ge and his group felt the old man’s power surge, a godlike might sweeping a hundred miles of sky. A black hand seal, as if forged of tungsten, spanned the horizon. Then the seal withdrew, racing across the earth, dragging a person within it, whose face was stricken with terror.

Smack!

The old man seized the person’s throat, his cloudy eyes flashing with sword-like brilliance. “You think you can stir even a small ripple?” With that, he slammed the figure to the ground.

A wail erupted as the devastating force scattered earth and mud—the man was crushed into the ground, blood spraying from his mouth.

Elder Ge and his companions were stunned. This was dominance in both power and presence: a moment ago, this figure had been untouchable via interstellar projection; now, he had been seized from a hundred miles away, utterly humiliated—the contrast was overwhelming.

The man had Western features, wore a black robe, and now lay barely alive, blood oozing from his mouth. The old man turned to Long Shaoxian and said, “You let yourself be deceived by a phantom demon—how arrogant can you be?” With that, he tossed the captive to Long Shaoxian.

Long Shaoxian pinned him underfoot, frowning. “At the Xuan Yi Center—were you the one impersonating Luo Longyu?”

The phantom demon’s eyes burned with fury, but he could not utter a word. Soul-Chaser knelt, grasped the demon’s crown, and invaded his consciousness. After a moment, he rose and said, “Yes. It was him.”

Long Shaoxian said nothing more, slicing down with her Dragon Halberd. The demon’s head rolled, blood splattering five paces.

As the demon fell, the old man leapt into the air, punching toward the distance. The fist mark tore the sky; deep in the mountains, peaks shattered and earth split. Eight figures exploded out, the yellow dog darted in a flash, instantly biting one of them. The chaotic energy was overwhelming. These eight were no ordinary foes—one swung his arm, forcing the yellow dog back, while the others launched streaks of light skyward.

The old man’s expression grew solemn. He unleashed seven hand seals in succession, clashing with the group—a thunderous roar erupted, the destructive force compressing every inch of space. He did not persist, but rolled back to the ground, saying, “After a thousand years of slumber, it’s time you saw the sun—Void Heaven’s Eight Sons.”

Only then did Elder Ge and his group realize—the old man was facing these eight, legendary figures of apocalyptic tales: the Eight Sons of Void Heaven, the ultimate sons of calamity!

Eyes of Five, descendant of the ancient Eye Clan, remembered the family legends. Void Heaven’s Eight Sons—could they truly exist? He stared, murmuring in disbelief, “The Eight Sons of Void Heaven… are they… real?”