The battlefield fell into a stunned, suffocating silence for a breath and two.

The disciples of the Tang Family and the Heaven-Slaughtering Demonic Sect froze, their eyes wide with disbelief at the words of their fellow Daoists. Balls ache? I am Barbara so for that reason I am out? An imaginary jade maiden got impregnated by a senior brother? Sword always standing? What kind of utter nonsense is that? At least come up with logical excuses.

They had expected a one sided slaughter. After all, it was to be.

They had expected the Devil to be dragged down, torn apart by the combined might of the True Sage and the Holy Saint ancestors. They had expected a victory bathed in honor and glory, with the very heavens singing a song of victory for them.

Instead, they watched their comrades run away. What kind of concept was this? They have the numbers, the might, the powerhouse so, why run away?

"Stop! Cowards! Do you not fear the punishment of the sect?" An elder of the Tang Family roared, his face turning the color of a pig's liver. "Return to your positions! The enemy is injured! He is pierced by swords! He is bleeding! We can kill him!"

But his words fell on deaf ears. The fear in the hearts of the disciples was a cold, hard stone that no amount of shouting could dislodge. They had seen the lotus bloom, they had had seen the reality shatter into pixels with their made eyes.

They were not cowards; they were realists. Someone else's problem is not your problem, don't try to be a hero.

Liu Xiu, hovering in the sky with his one remaining arm, looked down at the fleeing disciples with a gaze that could freeze lava.

"Trash, all trash," he spat, the word carrying the weight of a death sentence.

The True Sage realm powerhouse once again returned to the first later, stroking his long beard, his eyes narrowing as he looked at the injured Tianmo. It would be highly beneficial if he could extract both the conceptual arts however, it is very unlikely for him to succeed. Alas. It is what it is.

"You have a conceptual technique, but your cultivation base is too low. You are like a child holding a divine sword; you may cut yourself before you cut the enemy..."

The old man's voice was calm, devoid of the earlier mockery. He now recognized the threat however, just how much Qi reserve does a Soul Lord hold? Atbest he can use conceptual techniques twice or thrice, afterward he is but a pig awaiting to be slaughtered.

The old man's assessment was precise, cold, and utterly devoid of arrogance. To a True Sage, a Soul Lord was no different from a mortal infant clutching a thunderbolt—dangerous for a fleeting instant, yet fated to exhaust itself and perish.

What others might mistake for arrogance or carelessness was, in truth, nothing more than a statement of fact. If someone is trash, then THEY ARE TRASH. If someone is useless then THEY ARE USELESS.

The gap between a Soul Lord and a True Sage was not one that could be bridged by talent, nor by rare treasures. It was not a difference of strength, but of existence itself—a chasm so vast that even comprehension could not span it.

What is the concept of True sage realm? Oneust understand how the world works, for such an existence, making a rookie mistake is unlikely to befall.

The old man's gaze shifted to the Tang Ancestor, a silent command passing between them.

The Tang Ancestor nodded, his expression grave. He raised the staff high, the Imperial Artifact humming with a sound that seemed to come from the dawn of time.

"Suppress!"

The staff slammed down.

Boom!

A wave of invisible force, heavy as a mountain range, descended upon Tianmo. It was not an attack on the flesh, but on the being itself. The spiritual energy in his meridians froze, the Supreme Dao Bones in his body hummed in protest, and the Dragon Bloodline in his veins roared in defiance but was forced into submission...

Tinamo was pushed into his knees, his eyes bleeding.

Woosh!

A massive sickle materialized of pure golden aura glowing with complex runes, the blade humming with a sound that seemed to be the weeping of the heavens. It was the weapon of the True Sage, a manifestation of his comprehension of the Law of Severance.

"The end."

The sickle descended.

It was slow, like agonizingly slow, full of glory and hope, as if the air itself had turned into quicksand. Yet, the intent behind it was absolute. It aimed not just to kill, but to sever the very thread of Tianmo's existence from the tapestry of the world.

Was this the end?

The long journey of life and cultivation, was it really going to end just like this?

Pity, there was no flashback to see or a secret story of childhood. What was there an inevitable death.

The sickle was inches away from his neck.

Just then,

Well, nothing happened Young Master's neck, slicing through his flesh like a hot knife through butter.

Blood sprayed, painting the ground a deep crimson.

The head rolled, and the body collapsed.

The silence that followed was absolute.

"It is done!"

"Whoa! The devil is dead."

"Good heavens! No matter how dark the night is, the light descends breaking apart the darkness."

The Tang Ancestor exhaled a breath he didn't know he was holding, his shoulders slumping slightly. The tension that had coiled around his heart like a viper finally loosened.

The True Sage powerhouse nodded, his expression unreadable. "A pity about the conceptual technique. It was wasted on such a lowly cultivator. But it is better this way. Such power should not be in the hands of the wicked."

Liu Xiu, however, did not cheer. He had hoped to kill that bastard with his very own hands to avenge his lovers, yet failed.

***

"Elder Gu... I-Is gongzi Wang really dead?" Servant Zhang asked, his voice trembling, his eyes wide with disbelief.

Elder Gu stared at the headless body in the distance, his face pale. "I... I don't know. The head is severed. The soul is scattered. By all rights, he should be dead. But..."

But what?

"But what? I don't know..."

The happiness on the faces of others paused, as the sky tore apart and a dark miasma spread across everywhere.

Just what was going on? Nobody could comprehend.

The headless body of Young Master Wang began to twitch.

The blood that had sprayed onto the ground did not soak into the earth. Instead, it began to flow backward, defying gravity, returning to the neck of the corpse.

The head, which had rolled several feet away, began to float.

"Impossible! This is Impossible... His Immortal Dao body should have been suppressed, what's going on?" That's right, artifact, he quickly checked the Dao suppressing pagoda but it was damaged.

Damaged? How?

How could it be? How can his Dao Supressing Pagoda be damaged? How could he not sense anything?

"Not good! Without Dao supressing artifact we can't kill the Devil." Tang's ancestor said, sweat forming on his head. Someone could damage his imperial artifact and he couldn't even sense it? What's going on?

Even the old man of the True Sage realm was momentarily shocked. He had seen many things in his long life, but he had never seen a corpse reassemble itself, like this. What a beautiful art of necromancy.

The head reattached itself to the neck, the flesh knitting together with a sickening squelch. The skin smoothed over, the color returning to the pale cheeks.

A dark sinister Aura covering his entire figure.

"Junior Zhang, Seven minutes... Seven minutes all I need to complete my formation, with Dao suppressing the pagoda suppressed, I can sacrifice five supreme Dao bones to create a Supreme Dao Domain."

"Seven minutes? Senior Gu, you must be joking, how can I last seven minutes? It's too long." Zhang replied.

"You don't have to fight the True Sage realm, you just have to handle the small fries, Young Master Wang will handle the big fish... As long as seven minutes are brought, we can win this battle..."

Sacrifice five supreme Dao bones to win the fight? Elder didn't even think twice, given that, he could safely run away from the battle.

Servant Zhang's face turned the color of ash, his knees knocking together like dry branches in a winter gale. He took a deep breath to calm himself before nodding his head.

"Alright! Let's do this... Fortune favors the bold. We need to be bold."