The Crushing of Moyu

A crushing defeat in both opening rounds—and defeats so clean that there had been no room for resistance. The enemy’s strength and strangeness far exceeded all expectations.

A gloomy atmosphere, like an icy tide, engulfed the present-day demon race’s camp.

The Ancient Imperial Prince swept his indifferent gaze across the opposing side, as though looking at a flock of lambs waiting to be slaughtered.

“Hanchuan.” His voice was cold and utterly devoid of emotion. “Freeze them.”

“Rooooar—!”

A sharp dragon’s roar tore through the sky, carrying a bone-chilling cold that instantly swept across the entire martial arena!

From the Ancient Demon Court’s camp, a long, slender figure slowly glided forward.

He had a human torso and a flood-dragon’s tail. His entire body was covered in scales as dark blue as profound ice, while visible mists of ice crystals swirled around him.

He was none other than the powerhouse of the Blackwater Flood Dragon Clan—Hanchuan!

His eyes were narrow and elongated, his pupils ice-blue. Wherever his gaze fell, it seemed capable of freezing even the soul.

A terrifying pressure, far deeper than Shi Kui’s and much closer to the origin of the laws, spread through the arena. He was, astonishingly, at the peak of the Saint Realm!

“Bugs, who will become a wraith beneath my ice?”

Hanchuan’s voice was like ten-thousand-year-old ice grinding against itself, carrying a lofty and indifferent arrogance.

He was actually at the peak of the Saint Realm. Could they really be beaten three to zero?

Just as the suffocating oppression reached its absolute limit—

“Roar—!!!”

Crimson-gold qilin flames erupted with a thunderous boom. A blazing and awe-inspiring bloodline pressure swept outward, instantly dispersing part of the atmosphere of despair.

Mo Yu, his eyes glowing scarlet, stepped forward and fixed his gaze upon the Ancient Demon Court’s camp.

“I’ll take this round!”

“Qilinzi Mo Yu requests battle!”

A flash of anger sparked in Hanchuan’s ice-blue pupils. A mere mid-Saint actually dared to act so arrogantly before him?

“How presumptuous! Freeze for ten thousand ages!”

He formed hand seals, and the dark-blue scales covering his body shone brilliantly as a terrifying law of extreme cold erupted!

The arena beneath his feet was instantly covered by ten thousand zhang of profound ice. Even space itself froze solid. Countless currents of cold, each powerful enough to freeze a Saint’s soul, transformed into nine ferocious ice dragons that roared as they twisted toward Mo Yu in a deadly assault!

This was the Blackwater Flood Dragon Clan’s ultimate killing art. Hanchuan intended to seal this qilin—and the glory of his bloodline—away forever.

Yet in the face of an attack powerful enough to freeze an entire world, Mo Yu neither dodged nor retreated.

The scarlet glow in his eyes had already transformed into pure gold. An inviolable majesty originating from the primordial ancestral bloodline erupted like a dormant volcano!

“Roar—!!!”

A qilin’s bellow, seemingly originating from the primordial wilderness of ancient times, shook the heavens!

The crimson-gold qilin flames around Mo Yu no longer merely flickered around him. They were burning and boiling with all their might.

Within those flames, faint violet-gold divine radiance circulated, emanating a supreme imperial aura that stood above all demons!

His imperial bloodline was surging!

“Burn the Heavens.”

Mo Yu calmly uttered those two words and stepped forward.

The nine ice dragons roaring toward him evaporated soundlessly the moment they touched the violet-gold imperial flames, like snowflakes beneath the blazing sun.

They could not put up even the slightest resistance!

“What?!”

The cold indifference and arrogance on Hanchuan’s face instantly froze, replaced by utter terror!

His law of extreme cold was as fragile as paper before those imperial flames.

He wanted to retreat, but it was already too late.

Mo Yu’s figure seemed to merge with the flames. With a single step, he crossed the molten void and appeared before Hanchuan.

A qilin claw wrapped in violet-gold divine radiance pressed against Hanchuan’s chest.

“No—!”

Hanchuan only had time to let out a despairing howl.

In the next instant, the dark-blue scales covering his body shattered piece by piece. His entire chest collapsed, and the terrifying imperial flames bored straight through him!

“Pfft…”

Hanchuan’s enormous flood-dragon body fell from the sky like a puppet with its strings cut. Trailing wisps of smoke, it crashed heavily onto the arena floor.

His aura was completely gone.

Instant defeat!

A true, overwhelming instant kill!

The entire world fell silent.

Everyone stared wide-eyed at the figure standing on the arena, bathed in violet-gold divine flames like an emperor descended into the mortal world. None of them could believe what they were seeing.

Several breaths later, the present-day demon race’s camp finally erupted into thunderous cheers. Despair was completely replaced by wild joy.

Yuan Tiangang let out a long breath, his eyes filled with shock. Xiao Ruobai and the others also showed slight changes in expression, their gazes filled with approval.

The Ancient Demon Court’s camp, meanwhile, had fallen into complete stillness.

For the first time, the Ancient Imperial Prince’s indifferent expression changed. His brows drew tightly together, while killing intent and suspicion intermingled in his golden eyes.

“Qilin imperial bloodline… Such a pure bloodline still exists in this age?”

The ancient demon prodigies around him turned deathly pale. Their earlier arrogance had vanished without a trace, leaving behind only disbelief and terror.

The most eye-catching figures were the three mysterious people hidden within the mist.

One of the hazy figures leaned forward slightly, and its aura fluctuated by a rare degree.

One of them spoke, his voice passing through the mist and reaching only his companions.

“What pure imperial blood. He would make a rather worthy opponent.”

The aura of another mist-shrouded figure was obscure and unfathomable. Clearly, that person had also taken an interest in Mo Yu.

This subtle abnormality happened to be caught by the divine sense observing from the shadows, adding yet another layer of mystery to the situation.

On the branch of an ancient tree not far away, Little Black, who had been curled up there all this time, suddenly opened his eyes.

He glanced carelessly toward the silent bronze ancient city in the sky, as if he had sensed something.

Little Black stared for a moment before slowly closing his eyes again and returning to his lazy resting posture, as though opening them had merely been a momentary lapse of attention.

But an invisible strand of divine sense had already spread out like a web and had not withdrawn in the slightest.

Only then did the old demon sage of the present-day demon race break the silence in a deep voice.

“Third round—the present-day demon race wins!”

Mo Yu gradually reined in his true flames. The qilin seal on his body glimmered faintly, but the majesty of an emperor still lingered around him. His cold gaze swept across the Ancient Demon Court, displaying his overwhelming dominance.

Before long, the fourth round began.

Xiao Pang, Qin Yuechen, stepped onto the arena to fight.

Facing the prodigy of the Wind Eagle Clan sent out by the Ancient Demon Court, Fatty Wang still wore that honest, simple expression. Yet talismanic radiance continuously flickered from his fingertips, mysterious and ever-changing.

His exquisite technique of forming talismans directly in the void, combined with an array of talismans that balanced offense and defense, kept his opponent completely at his mercy. At times, he used Thick Earth Talismans to withstand attacks head-on; at others, he employed Binding Spirit Talismans to lock down his opponent’s movements.

In the blink of an eye, he would launch a surprise attack with composite explosive talismans.

The Wind Eagle prodigy possessed astonishing speed, but he was constantly restrained by the talismans. In the end, he was forced into such a sorry state that he could only admit defeat.

“Fourth round—the present-day demon race wins!”

As the announcement rang out, thunderous cheers erupted from the present-day demon race’s camp. After four rounds, the two sides were tied at two victories apiece, and the situation had returned to equilibrium.

The atmosphere in the Ancient Demon Court’s camp grew increasingly oppressive. The Ancient Imperial Prince’s expression darkened as he waved his hand and sent out the next combatant.

In the fifth round, the Golden Lion Clan’s Shi Kuang took the field.

Clad in golden armor, with a mane blazing like the sun, he unleashed the full might of his Golden Lion bloodline. His attacks were ferocious and unstoppable, yet he faced a prodigy of the Ancient Demon Court’s Stone Demon Clan.

His opponent possessed an innate stone hide that rendered him impervious to myriad arts, and he could even draw upon the power of the primordial stone veins.

He relied on his defenses to drain Shi Kuang’s vital energy. Once Shi Kuang’s strength was exhausted, he seized the opportunity to send him flying from the arena with a single punch.

“Fifth round—the Ancient Demon Court wins!”

In the sixth round, Wu Xuan of the Black Tortoise Clan stepped forward.

Earth-elemental spiritual light swirled around him. His defenses were steady and weighty, and he had originally intended to await his opponent’s attack and wear him down through defense.

Unexpectedly, however, he encountered a prodigy of the Ancient Demon Court’s Poison Scorpion Clan.

The opponent’s poison laws were strange and treacherous, somehow capable of penetrating the power of earth. They slowly and silently corroded Wu Xuan’s meridians and divine soul.

Though Wu Xuan fought with everything he had, the damage to his divine soul ultimately forced him to stagger and concede.

“Sixth match—the Ancient Demon Court wins!”

The icy voice rang across the silent arena like a final verdict, striking the hearts of every supporter of the current-era demon clans.

Four to two.

That score was like a red-hot brand searing Demon Emperor Yuan Tiangang’s chest.

His fists clenched tightly within his sleeves, the veins on the backs of his hands bulging like writhing dragons.

A turbid breath tinged with the taste of blood was held forcefully in his throat before he swallowed it back down.

They had lost. Again.

After suffering two consecutive defeats at the start, Mo Yu and Xiao Pang had won back two matches, and just as the first glimmer of hope appeared, Shi Kuang and Wu Xuan had fallen one after another before the unfathomable foundations of the Ancient Demon Court.

Six matches had ended. The opposing side already held four victories—only two more wins away from satisfying the condition for victory: winning more than half the matches.

His gaze slowly swept over the four people who remained beside him.

Cang You of the Skyhawk Clan still possessed a sharp and formidable aura, but Yuan Tiangang could tell that this prodigy, renowned for his speed, had been shaken after witnessing the stone demon’s absolute defense and the Scorpion Clan’s bizarre laws.

A solemn look—and a faint, barely perceptible trace of wavering—had appeared in his eyes.

Against any one of the opposing fighters, he could hardly claim certain victory.

The true hope rested entirely on the remaining three: Xiao Ruobai, Fang Hanyu, and Ling Xi.

Even knowing how powerful they were, Yuan Tiangang could not help but feel a fissure of doubt form in his heart as they faced those four figures that seemed as bottomless as an abyss.