Desolate Devouring Art - Chapter 1269 - Battle Between Various Races
Chapter 1269 – Battle Between Various Races
Liu Wuxie walked the mountain range, scanning every ridge and ravine. He searched for blacksmithing materials and stayed alert for ambushes.
Above White Moon Valley, quasi-immortal artifacts hovered in the sky, tracking everything that unfolded within.
“Planet Lord, he’s dead.” On a warship a few hundred miles from the Heavenly Dragon Sect, the Tranquil Meteor Star’s planet lord, Shen Tian, who looked forty-something but had lived for centuries and doted on a daughter he had late in life, heard the report with barely contained fury. When he learned of his daughter’s experience, he nearly stormed the Heavenly Dragon Sect himself, but reason kept his rage in check.
“Why are there no words from the experts we sent?” Shen Tian asked, face grim. He had dispatched several experts to Mount Dragon City. Not only did they fail to kill Liu Wuxie, but they even vanished mysteriously.
“Perhaps they couldn’t find his exact location and are embarrassed to contact us,” said a servant at his side. None of them imagined someone had killed those experts.
“Brother Shen, long time no see!” Space rippled, and a middle-aged man stepped onto the Tranquil Meteor Star’s warship.
“Brother Mu Ye!” Shen Tian greeted.
The visitor, Mu Ye, was Mu Heng’s father and planet lord of the Sky Cloud Star, similar in age to Shen Tian. Their two worlds lay close and had long been allies. They had planned an alliance marriage between Mu Heng and Shen Yue, intending to wed the pair once they secured standing in the Heavenly Dragon Sect. No one foresaw the disasters that followed.
Both families suffered significant setbacks in the Heavenly Dragon Sect, and they could reclaim their pride only by killing Liu Wuxie.
“What are you discussing?” Mu Ye asked; with their familiarity, pleasantries were unnecessary.
“That brat,” Shen Tian said without concealment. The Tranquil Meteor Star experts behind him stepped forward and greeted Mu Ye.
“I heard that he registered for every event. He’s simply courting death,” Mu Ye said, venom glinting in his eyes. Everyone understood they were speaking of Liu Wuxie. During the Heavenly Dragon Sect’s wilderness training, Liu Wuxie had caused Shen Yue to lose control of her bowls and humiliated Mu Heng, indirectly shaming both planets and turning the two planet lords into laughingstocks among their peers.
“We can’t be careless. There’s something off about that kid,” Shen Yue said, still cautious—the lack of news from the experts they had dispatched gnawed at her as an ominous sign.
“Brother Shen, you worry too much. He won’t leave this place alive,” Mu Ye replied with confidence. With their two planets, they couldn’t protect the rewarded planet even if they won first. Historically, superpowers of the Indigo Bamboo Star and first-tier planets monopolized the top ten. Second-tier planets like theirs mostly came to make up the numbers. Their true purpose this time was to kill Liu Wuxie.
“This is strange… The divine race hasn’t participated in the Myriad Race Ceremony for years. Why did they show up now?” Shen Tian frowned. The divine race was a bane to humans, weakening their combat strength upon contact; their sudden appearance this year shrouded the festival in uncertainty.
Large crowds gathered across many pseudo- and quasi-immortal artifacts and discussed this year’s Myriad Race Ceremony.
Deep in the mountains, Liu Wuxie suddenly halted. Two abyssal devils appeared ahead, staring in his direction. Since ancient times, the abyssal race and the human race had stood at odds, and the energy radiating from Liu Wuxie stirred them.
“Puny humans, crawl over here!” they roared. Both far exceeded Liu Wuxie’s cultivation, standing at the pinnacle of the Origin Conversion Realm. At the same cultivation level, humans couldn’t match the abyssals’ physiques; only the giant clan could rival them.
“I don’t wish to kill anyone. Move along,” Liu Wuxie said. He wanted to gather blacksmithing materials, not start a slaughter.
However, his reply enraged the two abyssal devils. Offended, they unleashed abyssal energy that rumbled across the ridge.
“You’re courting death! We’ll eat you!” they howled, fangs bared, and surged in like twin black hurricanes from both flanks. Across the mountains, skirmishes already flared wherever blacksmithing materials surfaced, and the abyssal devils, who believed consuming humans would fortify their physiques, were eager to make him prey.
Liu Wuxie’s gaze went flat and cold. A tide of murderous intent rolled off him.
Outside White Moon Valley, the quasi-immortal artifacts still tracked everything within, and the Heavenly Dragon Sect’s upper echelons watched their disciples on a sky-spanning screen. Elder Long combed the image for Liu Wuxie, praying inwardly for the boy’s safety.
“Dragon-Grasping Hand!” Liu Wuxie roared.
Two golden dragon claws tore into being and streaked for the abyssal devils at blinding speed. The instant they appeared, a wash of gold rippled through the projection, and Elder Long locked onto Liu Wuxie’s position.
“His mastery already matches mine,” Elder Long murmured with a wry smile. He had spent centuries perfecting the Dragon-Grasping Hand; Liu Wuxie had bridged the gap in a single month.
The claws crashed down. The abyssal devils seized up, immobile, as talons cinched their throats and hoisted them into the air. Gasps rose, not only at Liu Wuxie’s power, but at the technique itself. Everyone knew the Heavenly Dragon Sect guarded the Dragon-Grasping Hand as a dragon-clan secret, and here a human wielded it.
The abyssal devils’ expressions twisted. They thrashed, but the claws held like iron.
“Human, release us at once, or face the consequences!” they snarled.
“Still stubborn at death’s door?” Liu Wuxie sneered.
He clenched his fists. Both abyssal devils burst into bloody mist. Slaying two ninth-level Origin Conversion Realm foes cost him nothing; he hadn’t even mobilized his true essence.
Shen Tian and Mu Ye exchanged a look, grimness hardening both gazes. They had long known Liu Wuxie fought ferociously, but they hadn’t expected power like this. Each month, Shen Yue and Mu Heng sent out reports—updates that included information on Liu Wuxie’s combat strength.
Unmoved by the kill, Liu Wuxie drew in the abyssal laws lingering in the blood-mist. They came at the perfect time; the abyssal realm within his desolate world hungered to expand.
He pressed deeper into the mountains, where blacksmithing materials were most likely to surface. He opened the Ghost Eye and swept a hundred-meter radius. Even under suppression, he searched faster than most contestants; the stone-smothered range turned transparent to his sight like panes of glass.
Three days passed in a blink. Many participants had already discovered suitable materials.
On the third day, he reached a bowl-shaped valley and halted before an exposed vein that gleamed like molten sunlight.
“Earth Gold. An excellent material for blacksmithing,” he murmured, smiling. He would need to purify it to strip out impurities, but enough remained to forge a single artifact. Someone mined here during the previous festival, and in the ten years since, the vein slowly replenished itself.
He drew the Heretic Blade to harvest.
An arrow screamed from behind, slicing the air as if through open space. An ambush—someone lurked nearby.
Liu Wuxie slipped aside. The shaft bored into a distant boulder. With his physique, even a direct hit would have caused only superficial wounds, but the intent was unmistakable.
“Who is it? Come out!” he shouted. He had spread his divine sense on approach and detected nothing. Had his senses failed him?
When he turned and looked toward the source of the arrow, he saw three rakshasas step out from hiding.
“The rakshasa clan!” Liu Wuxie murmured. He immediately understood why he hadn’t sensed them.
The Rakshasa clan mastered concealment; with their unique constitutions, they could even disguise themselves as stone.
“This Earth Gold belongs to us,” one of the rakshasas said. They looked strange—triangular heads with a sharp, protruding horn; slender, serpent-like bodies that could change shape at will; and they favored bows as weapons.
Their voices were piercing, needling the ear. The Rakshasa clan hailed from a planet far from Indigo Bamboo Star and rarely appeared here.
“Die!” Liu Wuxie roared. Even without the Earth Gold at stake, their sneak attack alone condemned them.
Among the various races, the rakshasas had a notorious brutality, second only to the ghost clan and the undead clan, a ferocity born of the dark-attributed energy they cultivated.
Liu Wuxie struck, conjuring three dragon claws that slashed at the rakshasas with blinding speed.
The three had not expected a fourth-level Origin Conversion Realm human to attack so decisively.
Watching from afar, Elder Long’s worry spiked. He could sense that the trio was not weak, and their racial agility let them move like thunderbolts.
As Elder Long feared, the rakshasas slipped easily past the first sweep of the Dragon-Grasping Hand.
But Liu Wuxie was not ignorant of rakshasa speed.
The oceanic clan ruled underwater; the divine race was the bane of human true essence; the faceless clan could manipulate souls; the ghost clan’s combat strength surged at night; the dwarf race excelled at ambushes; and the giant clan possessed unimaginable raw strength. Each race had its traits, and humanity’s most significant advantage was balance.
Though the rakshasas excelled in speed, Liu Wuxie matched them. His Dragon-Grasping Hand kept evolving—angles folding, pursuit lines tightening. No matter how the rakshasas darted and twisted, they could not shake the hunting claws. Alarm crept across their faces. This seemingly unremarkable human was far more troublesome than they had imagined.
