Chapter 512 - 433: High Tier 6, The Bell’s Shockwave

Chapter 512: Chapter 433: High Tier 6, The Bell’s Shockwave

At that moment, the Changkong Heavenly Bow couldn’t help but compare Fang Yang to the Thunder Saint Venerable.

It even mentioned him in the same breath as the Venerables of the Primeval Era.

The Primeval Era gave rise to the first peerlessly brilliant Demon Venerable: the Heaven-Devouring Demon Emperor!

The distinction between a Taoist Venerable and a Demon Venerable wasn’t merely in the Dao Fruits they condensed, but more fundamentally in their philosophy of longevity.

The former sought to extend the upper limits of their lifespans, and their ambitions were not confined to the Eight Domains of Heaven and Earth.

The latter, however, wished to pummel and coerce the Eight Domains of Heaven and Earth until the world itself amended the upper limit of one’s lifespan, or even removed the restriction for them entirely.

The first path still had the Immortal Realm to aspire to.

The second path, however, was a complete, all-or-nothing gamble.

Without a demonic nature that would rather die than yield, it was simply impossible to walk that latter path.

Now, the Changkong Heavenly Bow saw in Fang Yang a glimpse of that very demonic nature.

For it believed that with Fang Yang’s methods, he would undoubtedly pursue both paths!

And Fang Yang was qualified to do so!

"My lifespan is approaching the ten-thousand-year mark." Fang Yang smiled faintly, lightly clenching his fist.

In an instant, an immense sense of satisfaction welled up in his heart, coursing through his entire body and filling him with vitality.

In his youth, he had worried over whether he could even obtain a two-hundred-year lifespan.

Yet now, he had undergone a dramatic metamorphosis, becoming like a true dragon in the mortal world—proud and peerless.

After a moment, Fang Yang’s gaze turned calm.

He said calmly, "Let’s go. We’re moving on."

.........

The Vermilion Bird—a legendary Flame Spirit, and one of the Four Celestial Spirits.

It is the God of the South, representing the Flame Emperor and the Seven Mansions of the South. In the Eight Trigrams, it is associated with Li, and in the Five Elements, it governs Fire.

Within the Four Symbols, it also symbolizes the season of summer, making it profoundly mysterious.

Without a doubt, this was an incredibly powerful Flame Spirit.

The legacy ruins it left behind were enough to capture the attention of all living beings, stirring their hearts and making them burn with envy.

At this very moment, within the Vermilion Bird ruins, the sky was a hazy expanse, obscuring the sun.

Across the land, fierce flames raged. All sorts of Anomalous Flames sprung up, evolving into Fire Realms that isolated one area from the next.

Without a doubt, the Vermilion Bird ruins were an exceedingly treacherous legacy ground.

What made it even more treacherous was that Cultivators were suppressed by the Laws of Heaven and Earth within the ruins.

Here, even if one were a Saint or a Great Saint, their rank would be suppressed down to the Mortal Realm.

This added yet another layer of danger.

By now, it was common knowledge that despite having support from the Golden Clan, Emperor Wushuang remained besieged within the Vermilion Bird ruins.

Within the Vermilion Bird ruins, a host of prodigies from the Red Flame Demon Country had appeared in droves.

Even the young Great Saints, led by the Pumo Tree and the Crocodile Flood Dragon, had organized a formidable demon army to hunt down Emperor Wushuang.

Anyone could see that as time dragged on, no matter how peerlessly talented Emperor Wushuang might be, he was doomed to perish here, turning to a handful of dust in a tragic end.

Still, falling within the Vermilion Bird Saint Palace was no insult to Emperor Wushuang’s years of invincibility.

"DONG—"

Suddenly, outside the Saint Palace, a bell chimed, its resonant vibrations spreading out.

The Pumo Tree and the other young Great Saints turned to look. On the horizon, a figure as straight as a spear and as sharp as a sword had appeared, an ancient bell hovering above his head.

Beneath the blazing sun, he was perfectly calm, like an exiled immortal descending to the mortal world, exuding an ineffable tranquility.

He was breathtakingly handsome, his features flawless, and his body radiated a divine light.

The moment he appeared, he captured the gaze of every living being. Even heaven and earth seemed to rejoice, celebrating his arrival.

"The toll of the bell shall be a grave for heroes."

A faint smile touched his lips. As he strolled forward with the ease of walking through a courtyard, the ancient bell began to vibrate wildly. A soul-shattering sound, as if rising from the netherworld, caused heaven and earth to rumble.

Before the Saint Palace, many of the demon prodigies screamed in agony as a shower of brilliant, crystalline golden feathers rained down from the sky. The feathers set them ablaze, burning them to death in excruciating pain.

It was a scene of beautiful terror: resplendent golden feathers dancing and drifting down under the blazing sun, all to the serene tolling of the bell.

The result was that one expert after another withered like grass, their blood staining the sky as they died helpless.

"AHH!"

"Who—who in the world are you?!"

"No, no, I can’t die, I can’t die..."

Screams of pain, sobs of despair, pleas for mercy, shouts of anger, and bitter curses.

Each cry was hysterical, filled with a pain worse than death.

But ultimately, nothing could change their fate: to perish beneath the tolling bell and consuming flames.

Behind him, Yu Zither Immortal watched Fang Yang unleash his divine power, her mouth slightly agape and her expression stunned.

She had, of course, known of Fang Yang’s capabilities.

But she had never imagined he had already transformed to such a degree.

The Demon Race army Fang Yang now confronted was even more massive than the combined forces of the young Great Saints she’d seen him face before—the likes of the White Tiger Demon Lord, Xiao Sanxuan, and Zhong Zunyang.

And yet, Fang Yang seemed to be handling it with even greater ease.

"Whew..." Yu Zither Immortal took a deep breath.

At the same time, she activated her Fusang Immortal Zither. A dense thicket of Fire Runes materialized, transforming into crimson sound waves that formed a domain, continuously amplifying the tolling of the bell.

In essence, she was using the unique properties of the Fusang Divine Tree to play a support role for Fang Yang.

"This aura... it’s those brutes from the Golden Clan. It might even be the direct heir of a Saint Venerable," the Pumo Tree deduced.

"Kill him!" the Crocodile Flood Dragon roared.

Wielding the Golden Flood Dragon Scissors, the Crocodile Flood Dragon tore open a patch of the void and surged forward in a counterattack.

Inspired by its charge, many of the Demon Race prodigies chose to use their final moments to launch one last desperate attack, determined to annihilate Fang Yang.

In an instant, endless roars filled the air as runes surged like a cataclysmic tide.

But their attacks were crushed midway by the billowing sound waves emanating from the bell.

BOOM! A crowd of creatures shrieked. Before the Fierce Flame could even finish incinerating them, they were struck squarely and instantly pulverized into a bloody paste.

In the midst of this, the Crocodile Flood Dragon’s face flushed crimson as it retreated in a frantic rush, blood streaming from its body.

Originally, the Crocodile Flood Dragon was a silver-white beast with the head of a flood dragon and the body of a crocodile. Its long, clawed arms allowed it to walk upright, and its massive frame naturally exuded an oppressive aura.

The Golden Flood Dragon Scissors in its hands were a renowned Sacred Artifact, famed for their offensive might.

But now, as the waves of sound surged forward, the Golden Flood Dragon Scissors seemed to cry out in pain as they split in two, utterly destroyed.

Even more horrifically, the Crocodile Flood Dragon’s entire body shattered, dissolving into a bloody mist. It had been utterly annihilated.

This scene utterly terrified the Pumo Tree and the other young Great Saints.

"Everyone, get out of my way!" the Pumo Tree roared. It spat out a cluster of cyan willow branches that transformed into a great gust of wind. WHOOSH! The wind prepared to carry it away.

Not to be outdone, the other young Great Saints also deployed their own life-saving techniques.

In that instant, it was as if wind had sprouted from the feet of every young Great Saint.

Burning their very life essence, they scrambled in different directions, desperate to retreat.

But...

It was useless!

Years ago, Fang Yang had brooded over the escape of Grand Princess Da Xuan and her companions, reflecting on it endlessly.

That was why, when it came to cleaning up, he had developed a method of using talismans to create formations—a true Talisman Array.

And that was before he became what he was now: a Young Venerable!

"NO!!!"

The Pumo Tree let out one last, unwilling roar.

The other young Great Saints also fell, one after another, until not a single one remained.

Now, between heaven and earth, only the tidal waves of sound and the surging golden flames remained.

’Compared to before, the difference is like that between heaven and earth,’ Yu Zither Immortal thought in awe.

She gazed at Fang Yang, her eyes shimmering like water.

When she was a girl, she had also longed for a man who would shelter her from the storms of life.

But after her Enlightenment, once she began to cultivate, she found the men of her generation to be weak and their talents dull. Not a single one was worthy of her attention.

At times, she found she had few peers with whom she could even hold a proper conversation.

That was why she had developed such intense curiosity after hearing of Fang Yang’s rise to prominence.

Now, it seemed the surprise he had given her was simply too immense.

It had turned out to be the other way around: she was the one struggling to keep up with his pace!

If not for the connection between the Fusang Divine Tree and the Great Sun Golden Crow, she wouldn’t even know how she could possibly be of use to him.

"The celestial tides of fate have shifted. So this is a young sovereign... truly extraordinary," the Changkong Heavenly Bow mused from outside the ruins, its thoughts filled with awe.

"How can this be?! Why have the threads of fate for prodigies like the Pumo Tree and the Crocodile Flood Dragon been extinguished?!" The Demon Race Saints were utterly baffled, unable to comprehend what had happened.

At that moment, a great commotion erupted outside the ruins.

But within the ruins, Fang Yang merely flicked his sleeves. With the powerful gait of a dragon and the stride of a tiger, he marched forward.

Emperor Wushuang, the legendary Ten Thousand Flames Saint Venerable.

I have come!