Desolate Devouring Art - Chapter 1344 - Ploy
Chapter 1344 – Ploy
Liu Wuxie gasped with every step and circulated the Desolate Devouring Art. Inside the Divine Sun-Shooting Tower, spiritual energy ran far denser than outside; it surged like a torrent and poured into his desolate world.
Though his true essence drained quickly, the Desolate Devouring Art kept him balanced, so he didn’t need pills or astral stones like the other humans struggling to keep pace.
“Look at Liu Wuxie! The spiritual energy is visible around him!” the followers cried, eyes wide. Its density was so high that anyone else would have burst under it.
“We can’t measure that brat’s physique through normal standards,” a pinnacle Primal Origin Realm cultivator said with a wry smile.
Liu Wuxie kept a steady pace as weaker competitors slipped from the first tier and fell out of the race. Only dozens of powerful demonic beasts and abyssal devils matched his speed, each still a threat for the champion’s spot.
……
Four days passed, and the eighth level of the Divine Sun-Shooting Tower lit up. Everyone tensed up; no one knew who would take first place.
“The competition this year is fierce,” murmured a Comet Temple elder.
In past years, participants would still be on the seventh level by now.
“I wonder where Liu Wuxie is—and if he’ll keep creating miracles,” whispered a Nine Dragon Palace elder.
People worried less about their own disciples than about Liu Wuxie, watching to see if he would shatter the Indigo Bamboo Astral Domain’s record and make history. No one had ever taken first in all four events.
The Heavenly Dragon Sect wore grave looks. They cared less about first place than about Liu Wuxie’s survival, knowing the Grand Unity Sect would set traps inside the tower to kill him.
……
After about two hours of travel, Liu Wuxie suddenly sat cross-legged.
“Why did he stop?” Everyone was puzzled as they followed him, wondering whether he had misjudged the gate’s timing.
“Let’s wait as well,” they murmured. Unsure of his intent, they sat with him.
Meanwhile, the second tier fell farther behind; many, completely drained, lay on the ground to rest.
Two hours later, Liu Wuxie’s eyes snapped open, and a cold ray burst forth. He had spent the time comprehending, and his mastery of the Great Spatial Mythical Art grew more exquisite. He had been using the environment to cultivate.
True essence in his desolate world swelled, coursing through him like a flood.
“That feels great!” Liu Wuxie rose, his body crackling like thunder. Those waiting nearby stood, stunned.
“What a terrifying physique!” They could tell his body had surpassed the scope of the Primal Origin Realm.
He punched, ripples spreading as the spatial suppression thinned—a sight that sent everyone stepping back.
Ignoring the stares, Liu Wuxie moved on and quickened his pace. He couldn’t fly, but he moved far faster than walking.
“Hurry! We have to keep up with him!” Many pushed to keep up with him, afraid of being left behind. They crested a hill, and a massive lake opened before them.
Liu Wuxie didn’t hesitate; he jumped into the water.
“The gate to the ninth level!” a Nine Dragon Palace disciple yelled, diving in after him.
As others followed, Liu Wuxie surfaced on the far shore and waved a hand to evaporate the water clinging to him. Watching everyone dive in, he looked genuinely puzzled.
“What are you all doing? I was washing up,” Liu Wuxie said innocently. He had only rinsed off the sweat and grime from cultivation.
Everyone’s foreheads wrinkled at once.
“Isn’t this the gate to the ninth level?” a Nine Dragon Palace disciple asked. They had followed him, hoping to reach the ninth level quickly, only to end up washing up on the lake.
“I’m not sure,” Liu Wuxie said with a shrug.
No one complained; they had followed of their own accord and could only use the true essence to dry their clothes. When the demonic beasts climbed out, hatred twisted their faces at being fooled.
A faint smile curved Liu Wuxie’s lips. After a pause, he dove back into the lake, leaving everyone baffled—did he want another bath?
No one followed, afraid of being tricked again. The demonic beasts kept their distance and resumed searching for the gate to the ninth level. Time trickled by, and Liu Wuxie had yet to reappear.
“This is weird. Liu Wuxie has been down there so long—why hasn’t he come back up?” Those on shore grew suspicious, but after the earlier embarrassment, none dared jump in.
Suddenly, light rippled across the lake, and a massive gate rose from the depths. Liu Wuxie was gone; he had already entered the ninth level.
“This is bad! Liu Wuxie has already entered the ninth level!” The realization came too late. He had dived first to make it look like a bath, so others would follow and become a joke; when he went in again, they were too embarrassed to chase.
Demonic beasts who had ranged far spat blood, realizing that they had fallen for Liu Wuxie’s trick again.
“He’s too cunning!” Grand Unity Sect disciples growled, gritting their teeth and cursing him.
“That’s not cunning but intelligence,” someone said. Many admired how Liu Wuxie had slipped past so many with a straightforward move to reach the ninth level first. He had outwitted them all.
Though the gate hadn’t fully risen, everyone rushed to enter.
When Liu Wuxie entered the ninth level, suppression crashed down on him like the weight of a star. The Heavenly Dao Book negated only a fraction; the rest hammered him in a constant tide.
The ninth level was different—a single giant mountain stood there, and at its depths sat a stone table. The stone table gave off a soft, distant glow, and he knew that it had to be what Elder Long had mentioned to him.
With a roar, Liu Wuxie summoned his desolate world. Dragon scales rippled across his body, and power brewed within. He had no choice—he had to seize the treasure and end the Myriad Race Ceremony.
The Myriad Race Ceremony had lasted nearly four months, and there wasn’t much time left on the three-year deadline. If he still couldn’t return to the True Martial Continent, Han Feizi might lose her life.
The ground trembled with each step like a deep drumbeat. Pressure crashed over him like a landslide; one misstep and it would sweep him away.
Several figures appeared behind him as others entered the ninth level. Two staggered the instant they arrived and collapsed, spitting blood under the suppression.
“Liu Wuxie really beat us to it,” someone murmured. The newcomers stared at his back and, refusing to yield, marched on.
A boundless surge of energy swept from the depths of the mountain, and after dozens of steps, the weight grew unbearable. His legs no longer obeyed, and his body creaked, threatening to come apart.
It felt no longer like a mountain on his back but a star—an ocean. Blood dripped from his lips, yet he stood firm; nothing would halt his advance.
Behind him, the demon clan, the abyssal race, the rakshasa clan, and others arrived. Most froze the moment they stepped onto the ninth level; the pressure here was ten times that of the eighth.
A powerful demonic beast roared and advanced, soon overtaking many humans with its far stronger physique. The abyssal race’s commander followed and quickly drew even with the demonic beast.
Compared to them, the humans moved much more slowly. In the past, humans rarely took first in the Divine Sun-Shooting Tower.
Liu Wuxie sensed everything behind him, but neither sped up nor slowed down. The powerful demonic beast and an abyssal devil closed rapidly and would soon reach him.
Had he not stepped onto the ninth level first, that demonic beast and abyssal devil might already have left him behind.
“Junior Brother Liu, go for it! You have to retrieve the treasure!” the Heavenly Dragon Sect disciples cheered for him, as they no longer stood a chance.
When the demonic beast drew close, it thrust a giant palm at Liu Wuxie, intent on killing him on the ninth level. No one knew whether he could survive the strike.
