It... Evolved Again

Finally.

The New Emperor Sword pierced through the core of the Death Domain Ancient Corpse.

The black domain collapsed with a thunderous crash.

The remnants of the Death Domain Ancient Corpse were shredded by the sword light, shattering into countless fragments of death qi, all devoured by the blade.

The fourth half-step Transcendent Ancient Corpse, destroyed!

Rumble!

The Nine Coffin Altar shook violently.

All four directional array positions collapsed completely.

The crimson blood light in the cracks of the Emperor Fall Monument was forcibly pushed back a section.

The sky-covering black cage shattered entirely.

Light returned to the Abyss of Ten Thousand Ruins.

Though still cold, still desolate, it no longer felt as suffocating as moments before.

The crowd gazed at the New Emperor Sword hovering in midair.

For a moment, no one spoke.

It had truly done it.

Devoured four corpses.

Broke the killing formation.

With the body of a single strange weapon, it had forcibly reversed a desperate situation.

The New Emperor Sword hung in the air, its blade radiating light so intense it was almost blinding.

It remained silent for three breaths.

Then it could no longer hold it in.

"Hahahahaha!"

"This lord is invincible under heaven!"

"Wang Hao, from today onward, this lord—"

Wang Hao silently produced a memory jade.

From the jade came that humiliating sound: "Master."

The New Emperor Sword's laughter cut off abruptly.

It stiffly turned its blade.

"...This lord, from today onward, still holds you in great respect."

Wang Hao smiled.

"Continue."

The New Emperor Sword ground its teeth.

"Master."

Wang Hao nodded with satisfaction.

"Good boy."

The people of Great Xia could no longer hold back.

Someone lowered their head and coughed.

Someone looked at the sky.

Someone pretended to be healing their wounds.

But their shoulders shook more and more violently with each passing moment.

Ji Wushang stood at the highest point of the altar, his face as dark as water.

The four half-step Transcendent Ancient Corpses he had prepared.

The ancient killing formation he had used to suppress and slay Wang Hao.

All of it had been devoured clean by a single sword.

Even more absurdly.

That one man and one sword had been cursing at each other the entire time.

And while they cursed, they had broken his killing formation.

This feeling was even harder to bear than outright defeat.

Wang Hao looked up at Ji Wushang.

The smile on his face slowly faded.

He held the New Emperor Sword, stepping up the altar one step at a time.

Though his injuries were still severe.

Though his Wish Power shield had been consumed.

Though his true essence had not fully recovered.

At this moment, he had a sword by his side that had devoured four ancient corpses.

And a group of ministers still bathed in untired bloodshed.

Wang Hao's gaze was cold and deep.

"Ji Wushang."

"I have said it before."

"You'd better kill me in one go."

He took a single step forward.

The gravel beneath his feet turned to dust.

"Now, it's my turn to tear down your broken altar."

The New Emperor Sword immediately blazed with intense sword light.

"Master, should this lord go ahead and devour him too?"

Wang Hao glanced at it.

"Mind your address."

The New Emperor Sword gritted its teeth.

"Your Majesty."

Wang Hao nodded with satisfaction.

"That can be considered."

The New Emperor Sword once more transformed into a sword circling around Wang Hao.

Ji Wushang slowly raised his hand, and the remaining coffins among the nine trembled even harder.

The gloom on his face vanished, replaced by a strange, cold smile.

"Wang Hao."

"Do you think the four corpses were the only cards here?"

Wang Hao paused mid-step.

The system notification sounded abruptly at that very moment.

[Intel update.]

[Warning: The true core of the Nine Coffin Altar is not the four directional guardian corpses.]

[Detection: A higher-sequence anomaly is awakening.]

[Danger level: Unmeasurable.]

Boom!

At the very center of the altar, the main coffin that had never been opened suddenly split open with a crack.

A pale, jade-white hand slowly extended from within the coffin.

The light that had just returned to heaven and earth dimmed once more.

Wang Hao narrowed his eyes.

The New Emperor Sword, for once, refrained from its usual mockery.

Everyone felt a presence deeper, older, and closer to the origin of death itself than the four-corpse killing formation, awakening within that coffin.

Ji Wushang's smile turned sinister.

"Now."

"The third round begins."

The moment that hand emerged from the main coffin.

The Abyss of Ten Thousand Ruins fell silent.

Not ordinary silence.

It was as if the entire world had been gripped by an invisible giant hand around its throat.

The wind stopped.

Thunder died.

Even the broken formation patterns on the Nine Coffin Altar seemed to recognize their true master—all crimson blood light bowed low, like subjects kneeling before an emperor.

That hand was pale as jade.

Not rotted.

Not withered.

It didn't even look like an ancient corpse.

Five slender fingers, distinct knuckles, faint dark-gold veins flowing beneath the skin.

Yet precisely because it was so clean, so nearly perfect, every Martial God present felt an indescribable chill in their hearts.

As if that were not a hand.

But death itself reaching out from the coffin.

Wang Hao narrowed his eyes.

He did not move immediately.

Not because he didn't want to.

But because his body's instinct warned him.

Move, and you die.

Ji Wushang stood at the highest point of the altar, robes flapping in the wind, his smile growing colder.

"Four half-step Transcendent Ancient Corpses were merely the keys."

"The true object of veneration on the Nine Coffin Altar was never them."

"Wang Hao, breaking the four-corpse killing formation did surprise me."

"But that's where it ends."

With that, he slowly spread his arms wide.

The eight ancient coffins behind him trembled in unison.

The residual death qi, blood light, and corpse thoughts from within the coffins all surged toward the central main coffin.

That pale hand pressed against the coffin's edge.

Crack.

A second crack split open the coffin lid.

A wisp of black qi seeped out from within.

The qi was extremely faint.

So faint it was like a single strand of hair in the night.

Yet the moment it appeared, the entire Abyss of Ten Thousand Ruins sank.

Boom!

The earth collapsed.

Countless shattered stones were crushed to powder.

The soldiers of Great Xia, who had barely begun to cheer for the end, all let out muffled groans as their knees slammed into the ground.

"Pft!"

Han Shanyue spat out a mouthful of blood, arms bracing against the ground, his spine bending as if about to snap.

He was a veteran general of the army, iron-boned and unyielding.

But at this moment, he couldn't even lift his head.

It wasn't a failure of will.

It was that the pressure surpassed anything a Martial God realm cultivator could comprehend.

"What... what is this thing?"

A soldier's teeth chattered.

"Your Majesty..."

"Is Your Majesty still standing?"

No one could answer.

Because everyone was pressed so low they couldn't lift their heads.

The Demon Lord's face was deathly pale. Demonic qi churned wildly around him, but it was like being pinned by a mountain ten thousand fathoms tall—the moment it surged out of his body, it shattered inch by inch.

He gripped the ground with both hands, fingernails tearing through flesh, black blood seeping down his palms.

"Transcendent..."

The Demon Lord's voice was hoarse.

"This is the Transcendent realm..."

Ghost Granny lay flat on the ground, her aged face against the rubble, eyes bulging as if they might pop out.

"Ji Wushang, you madman."

"You actually dared to raise something like this!"

Yue Ji knelt on one knee, blood trickling from the corner of her mouth.

She tried to look up at Wang Hao.

But her neck felt like a giant hand was pressing down, impossible to move.

Yin Jiuyou fared even worse.

Already heavily injured, the pressure crushed him so hard he nearly embedded himself into the earth.

"I've lived this long..."

"And this is the first time I feel that lying down is pretty good too."

Xue Wuhen lay not far away, and said with difficulty: "You call this lying down?"

Yin Jiuyou replied: "What else would you call it?"

Xue Wuhen spat blood: "I call this being buried."

Shadow said nothing.

He pressed himself entirely into the shade.

But even that swath of shadow was twisted and deformed under the pressure, like a pool of ink stomped flat.

Wang Hao fared no better.

He stood on the altar's stone steps, closest to the main coffin.

When that pressure descended, his bones let out a dense series of pops.

His Martial God realm first-layer imperial true essence spun at full speed.

Nine imperial dragon qi roared around him.

The Thunder Abyss Town Demon Tower hovered overhead, its body humming as thunderbolts cascaded down.

But these powers still seemed insignificant before that transcendent pressure.

Like a mortal raising a torch, trying to illuminate the eternal night.

Boom!

Wang Hao’s knees sank.

The sacrificial platform steps beneath his feet shattered outright.

He did not kneel.

But half his body was driven into the stone steps.

Blood trickled from the corner of his mouth.

One drop.

Two drops.

Falling onto the broken altar.

Wang Hao slowly raised his eyes.

His face was pale, but his gaze was cold enough to freeze the soul.

“Ji Wushang.”

“You really are filthy.”

Ji Wushang looked down at him from on high.

“At death’s door, and still running your mouth?”

Wang Hao grinned.

“My mouth’s been sharp for generations.”

“Not something an impostor like you could ever copy.”

Ji Wushang’s eyes turned icy.

From within the main coffin, the transcendent pressure redoubled.

Rumble!

The entire stretch of sacrificial steps beneath Wang Hao collapsed.

His spine finally bent half an inch.

Just one inch.

But to the people of Great Xia, it felt like a crack had split open the heavens themselves.

“Your Majesty!”

Han Shanyue’s eyes burned red, struggling to rise.

But the moment he moved, the armor on his body split apart inch by inch.

He was pressed flat again, his forehead smashing into the ground.

The Demon Lord roared, attempting to burn his own vital blood.

But Wang Hao spoke coldly.

“Nobody move.”

“Move, and I dock your pay.”

Everyone: “...”

Even at a time like this, he was still deducting pay?

Your Majesty, you really would settle accounts even from the grave!

And yet, it was precisely these words that made many eyes burn with heat.

Because Wang Hao could still curse.

Could still tally accounts.

That meant he hadn’t fallen yet.

The main coffin finally opened halfway.

A figure slowly sat up inside.

It was the corpse of an ancient man.

Draped in a tattered imperial robe.

Wearing a fractured imperial crown.

His face was pale and handsome, eyes shut tight, with a vertical line at the center of his brow, like a sleeping third eye.

There was no stench of decay about him.

A sacred aura rolled off him.

But beneath that sacredness lay bottomless death.

Like an emperor who once ruled the heavens, slain by time, then dragged back from the grave by something unspeakable.

The moment he sat up.

Heaven and earth changed.

The single thread of light that had just reappeared above the abyss was swallowed in an instant.

Darkness surged back like a tide.

The Abyss of Ten Thousand Tombs once more became a graveyard.

No — worse than a graveyard.

It was the world of the living being devoured by the world of the dead.

A system notification suddenly rang out.

{Intelligence update.}

{Target detected: Emperor Corpse.}

{In life, likely touched the transcendent realm. After death, contaminated by the Emperor’s Fall Monument, transformed into a transcendent-level ancient corpse.}

{Current state: initial awakening.}

{Danger level: extremely high.}

{Suggestion: run.}

Wang Hao’s eyelid twitched.

“System.”

“I thought you’d have something more useful to say.”

{Suggestion supplementary: run faster.}

Wang Hao: “...”

He wanted to curse.

But his mouth was still bleeding.

Cursing would risk choking.

Ji Wushang, unaware of the system prompt echoing in Wang Hao’s mind, merely fixed his gaze on the Emperor Corpse, fanatical light flooding his eyes.

“Awaken.”

“Ancient imperial body.”

“Slay for me the one who should never have existed in this world.”

The Emperor Corpse gave no reply.

It simply opened its eyes slowly.

At that moment.

Everyone’s mind thundered.

There were no pupils.

No whites.

Only two dark vortexes inside those eyes.

Like twin abysses that could drag in souls, crush them, and sink them into eternal silence.

Pfft!

Yue Ji caught only a glimpse in her peripheral vision before spitting blood, her gaze dissolving into emptiness.

Ghost Granny slammed a hand on the back of her head.

“Don’t look!”

“That thing is not for our eyes!”

The Demon Lord also lowered his head, veins bulging across his forehead.

As a towering figure of the demonic path, he had seen countless horrors in his life.

But in this moment, he dared not look directly at the Emperor Corpse.

Because it wasn’t horror.

It was a pecking-order suppression.

Like an ant that cannot gaze upon the heavens.

Wang Hao saw it too.

He forcibly steadied his mind.

The Imperial Dragon Qi roared within his sea of consciousness.

The remnant golden light of the people’s prayer force vibrated once, just barely keeping him from being dragged into that silent abyss by those eyes.

But his body grew heavier and heavier.

The transcendent ancient corpse had merely opened its eyes.

And it pressed every single person into the ground.

What kind of gap was this?

The Martial God realm was already the peak in most factions.

But before the transcendent, it was merely a slightly stronger mortal.

Ji Wushang glanced at Wang Hao, his smile mocking.

“Now — still going to dismantle my altar?”

Wang Hao looked up at him.

“Yes.”

Ji Wushang froze.

Wang Hao coughed out another mouthful of blood, his smile turning even colder.

“The thing I hate most in life is someone pretending to be more imperial than I am.”

“You dug up a dead emperor.”

“And I don’t like looking at it.”

Ji Wushang’s face darkened.

“Courting death.”

The Emperor Corpse seemed to hear something.

It turned its head slowly, fixing its gaze on Wang Hao.

A single glance.

Boom!

Three of the nine Imperial Dragon Qi around Wang Hao exploded instantly.

The Thunder Abyss Town Demon Tower was pressed downward violently, its eighth and ninth floors lit up simultaneously, only to dim just as fast.

Wang Hao let out a muffled grunt as his chest caved in half an inch.

Finally, one knee slammed into the ground.

Spiderweb cracks raced across the entire altar.

The people of Great Xia stared in anguish.

“Your Majesty!”

“Stop shouting.”

Wang Hao’s voice was hoarse.

One hand steadying himself on his knee, the other gripping the New Emperor Sword.

“I’m not dead yet.”

The New Emperor Sword, however, was eerily quiet.

Too quiet.

It hovered beside Wang Hao, black-gold light churning wildly across its blade.

The power of the four half-step transcendent corpses it had just devoured, provoked by the Emperor Corpse’s transcendent pressure, erupted like a volcano set alight.

The Spirit Mockery Vein.

The Slaughter Spear Vein.

The Flesh Mountain Vein.

The Nether Sea Vein.

All four corpse-power brands blazed at once.

The blade vibrated.

Not in fear.

In excitement.

Wang Hao sensed something wrong and muttered, “Swordswine, you’d better not pick now to throw a tantrum.”

The New Emperor Sword made no reply.

The next instant.

Boom!

A pillar of black-gold light erupted from the blade, shooting into the sky.

The transcendent pressure pressing down from the Emperor Corpse was forced open a crack — just a thread.

Everyone suddenly felt a weight lift.

They were still pinned to the ground.

But they could finally breathe.

The Demon Lord struggled to raise his head, staring at the sword, his eyes shaking.

“It... evolved again?”

Ghost Granny murmured, “It devoured four half-step transcendent corpses. Evolving was inevitable.”

“But this fast...”