Dare to Fight

In the Central Plains of the Divine Land, the Great Zhou Dynasty reigned.

Nearly all righteous sects gathered here, and the entire Great Zhou Dynasty was encircled by three layers of Saint-grade protective formations.

Within those three Saint-grade formations lay a quasi-Emperor-grade formation brought in by the Supreme Dao Sect.

Further inside was a defense arranged by the Great Zhou's destiny treasure, jointly maintained around the clock by dozens of righteous Saint-stage cultivators, enveloping the entire dynasty.

Behind those five layers of defense, the headquarters of the Floating Cloud Merchant Association stood guard, a solid bastion arranged with nearly three Emperor-grade treasures—yet even this now trembled on the verge of collapse.

Boom!!

The three outer Saint-grade formations had been completely breached, and over a million cultivators perished before they could retreat.

Eight alien quasi-Emperors, nearly forty Saint-stage cultivators, and a million-strong army of rebellious human soldiers—nearly every force the aliens could muster—had all converged to attack the Central Plains.

"Molu, Mo Ye is already dead, faster than expected."

Moke stared ahead as seven quasi-Emperors of the Shamo tribe, along with dozens of Saint-stage cultivators, had already broken through the quasi-Emperor formation and were reaping the lives of countless cultivators.

The seven quasi-Emperors each wielded Emperor artifacts, furiously assaulting the defenses of the Great Zhou's destiny treasure.

The moment this defense fell, the Central Plains would be completely lost. Though the Floating Cloud headquarters was itself an Emperor artifact, it could not protect too many people, nor could it hold out for long.

Moke sensed that the two men he had sent to the Demon Sect had died, earlier than he had anticipated.

"So, aside from that woman's hidden trump card, the Demon Sect has nothing else worth mentioning."

Moke clutched the necklace at his chest and tore it off—a pendant bearing a small iron hammer.

"Since that's the case, let's settle the Central Plains first, then wipe out the Western Regions, and finally handle the Demon Province."

The hammer in his hand suddenly expanded, crackling with thunder patterns etched across its surface. Its appearance was extraordinary, hardly an ordinary treasure.

Moke glanced at the protective barrier ahead. "Though it's an ordinary treasure, it's a rare destiny treasure—a fine piece indeed."

"But in the end, it's just an ordinary treasure. Before my superior-grade treasure, the Xuantian Iron Hammer, it still falls short."

The Emperor artifacts of the Xuanhuang Realm—what Moke called treasures—were divided into three grades: ordinary, superior, and top-grade.

The national seal of the Great Zhou Dynasty was a rare destiny treasure. Though only ordinary grade, it was far more formidable than most ordinary treasures.

Moke's Xuantian Iron Hammer, however, was a superior-grade treasure. Whether in power or durability, it was on an entirely different level from ordinary ones.

After all, even ordinary cultivators at the Dao-Entry realm would be lucky to possess a treasure of this grade.

If Moke were not the young lord of the Shamo tribe, he would never have owned such a treasure.

As for the Earth-Law treasure that Yue Liuli had shattered with a single sword stroke—that was an artifact of an even higher class than a treasure, and for the Shamo tribe, it ranked among their heirloom relics.

It had been given to Moke and his companions for protection, but its destruction meant that unless the tribe completely conquered the Xuanhuang Realm, this campaign would be a crushing loss.

"Go!"

Moke's body arched like a drawn bow, all his power surging into his arm. Terrifying holy essence flooded into the hammer. He hurled it with all his might—the Xuantian Iron Hammer spun wildly, growing larger as it flew, carrying crackling thunder. With a tremendous roar, it slammed into the protective barrier.

Bang!!

In an instant, the shield conjured by the destiny treasure was riddled with dense cracks. The many Saint-stage cultivators maintaining the formation were struck simultaneously, spitting out blood.

Zhou Muxi furrowed her brow, wiping a trace of blood from her lips. Her gaze held a sharp edge. "Aliens... I, Zhou Muxi, will remember you. You'd best kill me here."

She had always held a grudge. The aliens had humiliated her Great Zhou and oppressed the cultivators of the Xuanhuang Realm—this hatred was etched into her heart.

"Muxi, what should we do now? We're no match for them. If this continues, things don't look good."

Yun Sangyi's face was filled with worry. She had thought that fleeing with the Yun family to the Central Plains would let them withstand the alien offensive—but she never imagined the aliens would throw their full force at the Central Plains.

"Don't worry. I've already sent word to the Demon Province and the Western Regions. They should be on their way," Zhou Muxi reassured her.

"Will they really come? And even if they do, against eight quasi-Emperors... can we really hold?" Yun Sangyi murmured, her brow knotted with anxiety. If she could have her way, she would rather they not come—or rather, she would rather he not come.

"They will definitely come. This is a calamity for the entire Xuanhuang Realm, not just one region. Every land will be dragged into it."

"Child, do not panic. It is not yet time for despair."

At that moment, a figure appeared before them, stroking his long beard, his aura unfathomable.

"Senior... Elder Liao? Your cultivation—it's restored!"

Zhou Muxi recognized the man—a quasi-Emperor of the Floating Cloud Merchant Association, who had previously severed his own cultivation. Clearly, he had recovered it now.

Elder Liao nodded. "Zhou girl, it's thanks to all of you for buying me time. Now let this old man hold them off."

"Elder Liao! Just maintain the formation! Even with your cultivation restored, you cannot contend with eight quasi-Emperors. As long as we stall until reinforcements arrive, we still have a chance to strike back!"

Zhou Muxi quickly spoke, afraid that Elder Liao would rush out and do something reckless.

In this situation, a single quasi-Emperor could not turn the tide. Only by stalling until the two quasi-Emperors who had gone to the Demon Province returned—along with the Demon Sect's quasi-Emperor—could they possibly fight the aliens on equal footing.

Elder Liao looked at the shield, now riddled with holes, and a faint smile crept across his face. "It's already too late. If they break through the formation, everything will be lost."

Once eight quasi-Emperors broke through, it would be a slaughter without any chance of resistance.

"This old man is a cultivator of the Central Plains. I cannot stand by and watch the Central Plains be invaded and broken by aliens. Nor can I bear to see it turned into a hell on earth."

Elder Liao's gaze turned beyond the formation. Ruins everywhere, limbs and blood scattered across the ground, countless Central Plains cultivators lying in pools of their own blood. Sorrow swelled in his heart.

The vast Central Plains now held less than half its original population. Such was the brutality of the aliens.

"Old folks of the Central Plains—do you have the courage to ride out with me!"

Elder Liao's voice carried to every surviving cultivator within the formation.

The voice echoed through the air. A moment of silence. Then a voice rang out: "What is there to fear!"

"Damn aliens, bullying us Xuanhuang Realm like this—then let's fight them to the death!"

Several aged figures stepped forward, each radiating the aura of peak Saint Kings—elders from the top righteous sects.

Zhang Wudao gripped a Taiji sword, casting a grave look at Zhang Qingyu beside him. "Qingyu, do not let the legacy of the Supreme Dao Sect end with you."

With that, Zhang Wudao took a step forward, joining Elder Liao's side. "We cultivators of the Xuanhuang Realm—what battle do we fear? How can we let aliens bully us to this extent!"

"Uncle!" Zhang Qingyu's face changed, his gaze heavy with sorrow.