Desolate Devouring Art - Chapter 1296 - Spatial Storm
Chapter 1296 – Spatial Storm
The sight shattered their worldview. They couldn’t mount any resistance, and one of them was even an eighth-level Primal Origin Realm cultivator. Under Liu Wuxie’s oppressive aura, both men lost the will to fight. They wanted only to flee and carry the news out at once.
“Go all out! I don’t believe he can beat the two of us,” said the seventh-level Primal Origin Realm cultivator. They formed seals in unison, mustering a mythical art that swept the yellow desert into a horrific tide. For a single seventh-grade spiritual pill, they were willing to gamble their lives.
Pure Yang Pills were common, and astral stones weren’t what they lacked. However, the lure of a seventh-grade spiritual pill was immense.
“Fools,” Liu Wuxie said, murderous intent flashed in his eyes. He cast Dragon-Grasping Hand; a divine dragon’s aura erupted, and space trembled. Both men blanched, but there was no turning back now.
“Don’t hold back!” the eighth-level Primal Origin Realm cultivator shouted. A terrifying aura surged from him in rolling shockwaves. They split left and right, dodged Dragon-Grasping Hand, and charged straight at Liu Wuxie.
“Let me show you what true power looks like,” Liu Wuxie said with a mocking curl of his lips. His power spiked; his true essence condensed into a colossal peak that dropped from the sky and crushed their technique.
The duel turned one-sided; the gap was too vast.
The tattered runes he had absorbed multiplied the density of his true essence. As that weight descended, the ground split in a web of fissures, and a spatial abyss opened. Behind them, a massive vortex yawned wide, exuding terrible suction. Once drawn in, one could not possibly return.
The dragon claw pressed on. Its ferocity shattered their mythical arts and their dao hearts.
“Retreat! Fall back!” Panic finally flared. They broke and scrambled away, desperate to escape.
“Too late,” Liu Wuxie said, voice flat. His figure blurred as he performed Dragon Subduing Tiger and hammered down a terrifying dragon fist from above.
With a thunderous crash, the blow hurled the two straight into the spatial abyss.
“Argh! Save me!” the eighth-level Primal Origin Realm cultivator cried, pitching helplessly as he begged Liu Wuxie for mercy.
It was as if countless tendrils rose from the abyss and dragged them down. Their bodies sank as the vortex widened and swallowed everything.
Liu Wuxie flipped back and landed at a distance, watching the two sink into seemingly bottomless quicksand. Half a heartbeat later, they vanished, and the abyss closed.
Yet satisfaction didn’t touch his face; instead, he frowned. With the Grand Unity Sect’s bounty on his head, many would flock to hunt him. He wouldn’t face only the Grand Unity Sect; other races would join the siege. This was a neat tactic of killing with borrowed knives.
“I need to find more runes fast, best if I craft a single profound talisman to ensure my safety,” Liu Wuxie said. Runes lay scattered everywhere; luck determined whether he found them.
If he ran into a crowd of experts, his current cultivation would probably carry him through. With a profound talisman in hand, however, he could blast open a path.
Every rune here came from the ancestral talisman and carried unimaginable power.
He shot out like a meteor and vanished. He activated Ghost Eye to peer through layered space. With his comprehension of Spatial Dao Art, he could sense the folds pressing over one another; the ancestral talisman’s internal spaces were still multiplying.
One day, the ancestral talisman could birth countless lesser realms or fuse them into one massive world. When he spotted silhouettes in the distance, he slipped on the mask that He Yingwu had forged to hide his identity. So long as he didn’t fight, no one would see through the disguise.
“Any sign of Liu Wuxie?” several humans a hundred meters away asked, scanning the area.
“Nothing,” a companion said, shaking his head. They had searched for two days without finding even a trace.
“He’s probably not in this pocket. Let’s head to the next.”
Many cultivators here weren’t skilled with spiritual talismans; they had come for Liu Wuxie. First place in this event earned a seventh-grade spiritual talisman, hundreds of thousands of Pure Yang Pills, and millions of astral stones, but the Grand Unity Sect’s bounty matched that haul.
The human cultivators set off for the next pocket, unaware that he stood within reach.
Watching them leave, Liu Wuxie stayed impassive. He had already scoured this pocket, and soon, guided by Ghost Eye, he found another entrance. Each pocket had multiple gates, each leading to a different place.
He stepped through onto springy green turf, then realized he had arrived in a swamp.
“Looks like every world is different,” Liu Wuxie murmured. He searched the mire. Low trees dotted the marshland, and even here, there was no day or night.
Several razor-sharp whooshes sliced the air—high-level Primal Origin Realm cultivators moving with frightening speed.
“Quick! Several runes have appeared ahead!” People cried out as they streaked past Liu Wuxie, ignoring him and vanishing in a breath.
“Strange. If runes have truly appeared, why announce it instead of collecting them quietly?” Liu Wuxie remarked, watching their silhouettes disappear.
Runes weren’t like artifacts that could flee when threatened. Runes were the laws of heaven and earth; once found, one could just take them away.
Curiosity piqued, he unfurled his footwork and gave chase. He needed to stockpile runes as fast as possible to face the Grand Unity Sect’s experts. He had slain more than seventy of their Primal Origin Realm disciples, an unforgivable humiliation.
They would not rest while he lived.
He moved through the swamp, and soon, a violent storm churned ahead.
“A spatial storm!” Liu Wuxie said. He understood why no one had collected those runes—an active spatial storm barred the way.
At the storm’s heart, dozens of golden runes hung in the air. These runes markedly surpassed those he’d harvested. They were larger, carrying more complete laws.
The storm was terrifying, and its countless vortices stood ready to shred anyone daring enough to come close.
A crowd ringed the edge. Sweeping it, Liu Wuxie spotted dozens of races. Many were eager to try, yet the moment anyone drew near, their clothes were shredded to ribbons.
He wore the guise of a nondescript man in his thirties and blended into the onlookers. In the distance, several Heavenly Dragon Sect disciples whispered among themselves.
“What a pity. If someone collected them all, they could craft a complete profound talisman. Even if it didn’t place high, a top-ten finish would be likely,” one disciple remarked with obvious regret. Dozens of runes appearing together were a rare chance.
“Yeah,” the others agreed, sharing the same pity.
“Don’t be so sure. If you can counter the storm, you can walk into its eye and retrieve them,” someone nearby said. Plenty of spatial artifacts could ferry someone through such a storm.
The words struck a chord. A faint smile tugged at Liu Wuxie’s lips. With the Sky Devouring Divine Cauldron and Spatial Dao Art, he had a real shot at withstanding the storm and collecting the runes.
However, he wasn’t that reckless. So many experts were present, which meant charging in would only invite encirclement. Better to wait for chaos and seize an opening.
The abyssal devils stirred as a powerful figure in heavy armor strode toward the storm. Dozens of meters from the runes, his armor cracked, fell away in shards, and vanished into the spatial abyss.
Several divinekins moved as well. Though they had paused the hunt for Liu Wuxie, they had not abandoned the Myriad Race Ceremony. The rakshasa clan, the oceanic clan, and others tensed up, trying in turn.
“The giants are making a move!” someone exclaimed.
The giant clan’s physiques were famously formidable—tough as refined iron and near-impervious to powerful weapons. With sheer strength, they tore a rift in the storm and walked straight in.
“What a powerful physique,” many gasped as the giants braced their bodies against the storm’s crushing force.
Liu Wuxie’s face remained calm. True giants stood over three thousand meters tall, which was higher than common mountains. Compared to that, these giants were like ants; their bloodline had thinned far too much.
In the Astral Domain, the laws themselves limited what could exist; they couldn’t support true giants.
“Don’t let the giants take them!” The humans finally moved. Some with insight into spatial force slipped through the storm with ease and reached the core. The golden runes fluttered like willow leaves in the storm, releasing powerful shockwaves.
An abyssal devil edged closer to the storm’s heart, but the giants pressed faster and overtook him. The elven race, the faceless clan, the ghost clan, and several others didn’t move; physique wasn’t their strength, so they chose to watch instead.
The chaos snowballed as the storm grew more unstable. Small vortices blinked into being from nothing. If the storm were to detonate, it would become a spatial abyss, dragging everyone into its maw.
