Desperate Survival

Three fine cracks appeared on the blade of Wang Hao's Heavenly Sword, its radiance dimmed by at least half.

The ninth floor of the Thunder Abyss Demon-Suppressing Tower had already closed its doors after releasing the thunder dragon, and the lightning coiling around the tower had weakened considerably.

Across from him, Li Cangming had only taken a single step back.

He glanced down at his chest—a shallow sword mark now marred his crimson robe.

The mark was only three inches long, not even cutting the skin, but he was Li Cangming, a half-step transcendent. For seven thousand years, no one had left so much as a scratch on his robe.

Wang Hao had done it.

"The Ninth Sword of the Heaven-Opening Nine Swords." Li Cangming raised his eyes. For the first time, genuine killing intent flickered in his blood-red, flame-like eyes. "That this strike could damage my robe is enough for you to be proud. Unfortunately, you won't get a second chance."

He raised both hands. Crimson Sacred Flame coalesced around him into ninety-nine fire dragons, each a hundred zhang long.

Every single dragon exuded the aura of an early-stage Martial God.

The ninety-nine dragons spiraled and danced, staining the night sky for dozens of li crimson red. This was no formation's power—this was Li Cangming's own strength.

Half-step transcendent. One man, a formation unto himself.

Wang Hao wiped the blood from the corner of his mouth and glanced at the cracks on the Heavenly Sword. A grin spread across his face.

"Sword-bitch, can you still hold?"

"Even if I can't, I must." The Heavenly Sword's voice carried gritted teeth. "Three cracks. My spiritual energy loss has increased by thirty percent. At most, I can strike three more times—after that, the blade shatters, and I'm done for."

"Three strikes are enough." Wang Hao took a deep breath. The defensive energy within him was already sixty percent depleted, but the smile on his face remained bright. "First strike, cut down his dragons. Second strike, break his formation disk. Third strike—"

He paused, looking past Li Cangming at the thirty-nine Martial Gods and eight hundred Flight-Realm cultivators behind him.

"—third strike, break their nerve."

"What do you mean?"

"I want these old bastards from the Central Plains to know that the Emperor of Great Xia from the Eastern Wasteland isn't some soft target they can squeeze whenever they want. Even if I can't win today, I'll make sure they remember one thing: messing with the Eastern Wasteland comes with a price."

With those words, he charged again.

Not toward the formation this time—straight at Li Cangming.

A head-on confrontation.

All ninety-nine fire dragons opened their massive jaws at once. Ninety-nine crimson pillars of flame shot at Wang Hao from every direction, weaving into an impenetrable net of fire that sealed off all possible escape routes.

Wang Hao did not dodge.

With his left hand, he unleashed the fifth palm strike of the Heaven-Imprisoning Earth-Covering Palm. With his right, he executed the eighth sword of the Heaven-Opening Nine Swords. Palm force and sword aura merged before him, forming a golden-and-white shield. The shield slammed into the fire net, producing a sizzling sound—the violent clash of two opposing forces.

A tear opened in the fire net.

Wang Hao shot through the gap, thrusting the Heavenly Sword straight at Li Cangming's face.

Expressionless, Li Cangming raised his hand. Crimson Sacred Flame gathered at his fingertip, condensing into a small palm-sized shield of fire. The shield met the tip of the Heavenly Sword with perfect precision. Flame and sword aura collided, producing a grating metallic screech.

The tip of the Heavenly Sword pierced half an inch into the fire shield but could advance no further.

"Break." Li Cangming uttered the single word calmly.

The fire shield expanded abruptly, blasting both sword and man away. Wang Hao flipped through the air several times before dissipating the recoil. The moment he steadied himself, the second wave of attacks from the ninety-nine fire dragons was already upon him.

Not pillars of flame this time—chains of fire.

Ninety-nine chains shot from the dragons' mouths, weaving into a flaming net that covered ten li. Its purpose: to trap Wang Hao and crush him within.

In that instant, a black figure burst in from an angle.

Two palms struck out together. A dark imprint, reeking of decay, slammed into the flaming net.

The net tore open.

"Demon Lord?!" Wang Hao turned to see the Demon Lord's form, blazing with purple-black fire, tearing through the sky. The hem of his black robe had already been reduced to ashes, and his legs were starting to burn. "How did you get out?"

"My Eternal Night can't contain me forever," the Demon Lord said, madness swirling in his pitch-black vortex-like eyes. "Listen, Wang Hao—I've burned my entire lifespan to gain power that lasts only one incense stick's time. After that, I'll be ash. In that time, I'll hold off Li Cangming. Break the formation. Don't worry about me."

"Demon Lord, I—"

"No more words!" the Demon Lord cut him off, clasping his hands in a seal. Purple-black demonic energy surged before him, condensing into nine massive hundred-zhang demonic statues, each radiating the power of a mid-stage Martial God. "I've lived three thousand eight hundred years. My greatest regret is staying in seclusion for three hundred years. Now I've seen the light—better to die on the battlefield than in bed."

He let out a long howl, and the nine demonic statues charged at Li Cangming's ninety-nine fire dragons.

The statues and dragons tangled together. Every collision exploded with earth-shaking thunder.

Meanwhile, another figure soared in from Dark City.

Yue Ji.

In her hands, the Phantom Moon Wheel transformed into a thousand-zhang-wide, deep-green moon. Wherever the moonlight fell, the dragons' bodies froze briefly—not from ice, but from time itself coming to a halt. Yue Ji was burning her life force to activate the Phantom Moon Wheel's ultimate ability, "Moonlit Time Stop," slowing everything caught in its light a hundredfold.

"Your Majesty." Yue Ji's lifeless gray eyes met Wang Hao's. "We stand with you."

Then came Feng Wanli, Ghost Granny, Yin Jiuyou, and Xue Wuhen—all six guild leaders broke through the sky and arrived.

Beneath each of them burned the fire of their lives. They had used their forbidden arts to force their way past the Eternal Night's blockade, sacrificing their remaining years for one fleeting surge of power.

Wang Hao looked at them, opening his mouth, and finally spoke.

"You idiots. I haven't even collected my interest yet, and you want to die?"

But in his eyes, something unspeakable glistened.

Xue Wuhen flashed a grin, the palm print on his chest still aching. "Your Majesty, I still don't like you. But I hate those ancient bastards even more. After this fight, I'll settle accounts with you."

Wang Hao took a deep breath, forcing whatever was in his eyes back down.

"Fine," he said, gripping the Heavenly Sword. His voice regained its usual ease. "After this battle, I'll buy you all a drink."

He looked up at Li Cangming again.

The Demon Lord, Yue Ji, Feng Wanli, Ghost Granny, Yin Jiuyou, Xue Wuhen—six Martial Gods burning their lives, plus himself. Seven in total.

Opposing them stood Li Cangming, a half-step to sainthood, thirty-nine Martial Gods, and eight hundred Flight-Realm cultivators.

Still a stone striking an egg.

But at least, he was no longer alone.

"Li Cangming." Wang Hao raised the Heavenly Sword, its tip pointing at the blood-red figure. "I've changed my mind. I won't just break their nerve—I'll cut you down."

Li Cangming's blood-red flame-like eyes held no ripple of emotion. He replied with only two words.

"In your dreams."

Ninety-nine fire dragons were held back for thirty breaths by the Demon Lord's demonic statues and Yue Ji's Time-Freezing Moonlight.

Thirty breaths—to mortal eyes, no more than a few blinks—but on a battlefield at the martial god level, it was enough time to make countless life-or-death decisions.

Wang Hao seized those thirty breaths and broke through three formation positions in succession.

At the sixth breath, he shattered the eastern formation of the Danxia Sacred Land. The three martial gods of Danxia had their seven-colored alchemy cauldrons cracked open with a single palm strike, and the alchemical fire that erupted from within rebounded upon its masters, sending all three reeling back as they coughed blood.

At the fifteenth breath, he tore open the northern formation of the Taixu Temple. Taixu's Grand Dao-Nature Formation was as flimsy as paper before the Heavenly Sword. Jian Wuchen's sword-dao nodes had been child's play to see through, but the Taixu Temple's law-dao nodes were equally transparent to the Heavenly Sword. Three slashes of sword-light later, two of Taixu's martial gods were forced back hundreds of zhang.

At the twenty-eighth breath, he directly shattered the southern formation of the Starry Hall. The three martial gods of Starry Hall had barely begun to unfold their All-Encompassing Stellar Grand Formation before Wang Hao struck six consecutive times with his Heaven-Sealing Earth-Crushing Palm. The combined force of those six strikes smashed a gaping hole in the stellar array disc.

With three positions breached, the operation of the Sixteen Heavenly Net Formation visibly stalled. The formation disc's rotation slowed from one cycle every three breaths to one every six breaths, and the rate of pressure amplification dropped by fifty percent.

But the cost was brutal.

Only thirty percent of Wang Hao's internal true qi remained.

The cracks on the Heavenly Sword had increased from three to seven, its vibrations growing more violent with each passing moment, on the verge of shattering.

The Thunder Abyss Demon-Suppressing Tower had already unleashed its eighth and ninth layers; only the lightning power of the seventh layer and below could still be called upon.

As for the Demon Lord, six of his nine demonic statues had been destroyed by Li Cangming. The remaining three were covered with cracks. Yue Ji's Time-Freezing Moonlight had drained a vast amount of her life force, a weariness appearing for the first time in her deathly gray eyes. Feng Wanli's legs had completely burned away to nothing, his broken body held aloft by sheer qi. Ghost Granny's ten blood swords were down to eight shattered, and a hole had been burned through Yin Jiuyou's Soul-Taking Banner by Li Cangming's Crimson Dawn Holy Flame.

Xue Wuhen was in the worst state—the majority of his blood-colored mist had been dispersed by a single palm strike from Li Cangming, and a new palm-print scar marked his chest. Old wounds piled on top of new ones: even standing steady was a struggle.

“Is it worth it?” Li Cangming’s voice floated out from among the fire dragons, his tone as indifferent as if stating a fact. “The power you gain by burning your lives only buys you a few more moments before me. In a quarter of an hour, you will all turn to ash, while I remain alive.”

A trace of purple-black blood seeped from the corner of the Demon Lord’s mouth as he smiled.

“It’s worth it. Seeing you this pissed off makes dying worth it.”

A flicker of gloom passed through Li Cangming’s blood-red flame-like eyes.

He raised his right hand, his five fingers clenching into an empty fist. All ninety-nine fire dragons contracted at once, the flaming chains snapping taut as they crushed the Demon Lord’s three remaining statues and shattered Yue Ji’s frozen moonlight. The dragons’ tails swept sideways, flinging Feng Wanli, Ghost Granny, Yin Jiuyou, and Xue Wuhen flying in four directions.

Then he turned to look at Wang Hao.

“Your turn now.”

A pressure at least fifty percent fiercer than before exploded from Li Cangming’s body. Behind him, the ninety-nine fire dragons converged anew, fusing into nine transparent, void-like dragons—that was the “Void Dragon Flame” that could only be condensed when Crimson Dawn Holy Flame had been cultivated to its ultimate state. Each tongue of that flame could burn the very fabric of space itself.

Wang Hao gripped the Heavenly Sword tighter. The seven cracks along its blade trembled incessantly.

Only twenty percent of his internal true qi remained; most of his Nation’s Fortune Protective Golden Light was shattered; the lightning glow of the Thunder Abyss Demon-Suppressing Tower had dimmed to near invisibility.

He had already exhausted all his methods.

But he was Wang Hao.

He was the man who could still smile while hacking off heads when surrounded by Heaven’s Chosen. He was the man who, having just stepped into the martial god realm on Tianxu Peak, had held his ground against eight other martial gods. He was the man who had swallowed the Dark City in just three days.

He had spent his entire life struggling—fighting his way back from the brink of death—and his greatest skill was turning a corner in the face of despair.

“Sword-bitch. One last thing.”

“Speak.”

“If I can’t hold on, you take the Thunder Abyss Demon-Suppressing Tower and get out,” Wang Hao said, his voice audible only to the Heavenly Sword. “There’s still two full Ninth Realm attacks left inside the tower. It’ll be enough for you to protect the Eastern Wastes for a while. You are my sword, and you are also the guardian for my heir. The Eastern Wastes can survive without Wang Hao, but they cannot do without the Heavenly Sword.”

The Heavenly Sword fell silent for a full three breaths.

Then, in a tone it had never used before, it spoke.

“Wang Hao, you’re insulting me.”

“Do you think I would abandon you and run away?”

“In this whole life, I’ve only acknowledged one master, and that’s you. If you die, I break alongside you. If you live, I kill alongside you. Don’t give me that nonsense about your ‘heir.’ I was born from your dark side. I never learned any of your ‘Sovereign’s Rules’—not a single one. But there’s one thing I learned damn well.”

It paused, its golden pupils blazing with a defiant fire.

“You once said, ‘The Eastern Wastes can live on its knees, but it cannot die on its knees.’ I am the Heavenly Sword of the Eastern Wastes. And the sword of the Eastern Wastes does not bend—it breaks.”

Wang Hao stood frozen.

“Good. Then come with me, and let’s go crazy one last time—together.”