The River of Ti flowed endlessly as monts slipped away.
Chen Feng stood before the vast expanse, sword box in hand, his gaze calm and steady as he faced the angelic army relentlessly bombarding the temporal stream.
Gu Lan had warned him ti and again—don't act recklessly, don't let anger cloud your judgnt. Survival was the ultimate truth.
In a world where only life and death truly mattered, Chen Feng had agreed wholeheartedly. With his talent and fortune, as long as he stayed patient, the day would co when he could rise again and crush every foe who had once humiliated him.
But not today.
"Master, I think I've found sothing worth protecting!" Chen Feng declared, planting the sword box firmly in front of him. Dressed in black, he looked resolute in the wind. Though he was only at the Imperial Realm, his imposing aura caught the attention of the Divine Realm experts present.
"If he survives, he will undoubtedly beco a great figure in the future!" one remarked. "It's a sha he chose to stay and confront Bright Clan; survival seems like a wishful thinking."
A series of sighs echoed as one after another, the Divine Realm experts stepped forward, aligning themselves behind Chen Feng.
They were mbers of the Nine Heavens Alliance. Perhaps at the beginning, they had joined to grow stronger under the leadership of Elder Ye Ming. But by today, their reasons had evolved beyond such simple aspirations.
To stand firm against the Bright Clan in a battle to the death—this kind of courage wasn't sothing that ca rely from profound cultivation.
Even within the Nine Heavens Alliance, not everyone was fearless in the face of death.
Yet they chose to stand here, not for glory or survival, but because they wanted to make this world just a little better. Even if it was only a little.
"Your performance today is comndable," Luo Ying said, standing beside Chen Feng. This rare praise was significant, as she was one of the strongest forces on the battlefield, determined not to hide while protecting the remaining disciples of Temple of Destiny.
Seeing one strong warrior after another stand in defense, so already dead and others facing death, the Temple of Destiny disciples began to grasp the true aning of fate. Their eyes shifted from fear and confusion to unwavering determination.
"What a touching scene. Too bad none of it changes anything!"
"The angelic purification plan was designed by the Divine Son to resolve all the disputes of this tiline. Only with your deaths will the Six Realms beco better.
Once the Bright Clan unites the Six Realms, with the God's love embracing all, there will be no more deception, no more vendettas, no more life-and-death feuds… That will be the truly perfect world!"
The Second Elder of the Bright Clan stared coldly at Chen Feng and the others in front of the Temple of Destiny. His eyes brimd with disdain as he spoke, but when he ntioned the Divine Son, Arthur, his expression shifted to one of fervent admiration—almost reverence.
He had always firmly believed that the Bright Clan represented justice. Even if the Divine Son collaborated with the abominations from beyond the realms, even if he plundered fortune to advance his cultivation, it didn't matter to him.
In his mind, destroying the world was a necessary step to rebuild it into a realm filled solely with light.
But he failed to realize—if the world were only light with no shadow, then light would cease to be light.
Faced with the Second Elder's mockery and preaching, Chen Feng and his companions remained unmoved.
For cultivators who had reached the Imperial Realm, their hearts were already tempered to an unshakable resolve. A few words of ridicule were far from enough to waver their determination.
As the River of Ti reached the brink of collapse, it was Chen Feng, the weakest of them all and standing at the heart of the battlefield, who was the first to act.
"Open!"
Chen Feng lightly patted the sword case, and eleven flying swords instantly transford into streaks of radiant sword light.
The gleaming lights swirled around him as his sword intent erupted in full force.
At this mont, he no longer carried his usual sharpness, yet the aura of swordsmanship emanating from him was even more intense than ever before.
"Sword Eleven!"
With a calm murmur, Chen Feng uttered three words, unleashing an overwhelming surge of sword energy that filled the skies with blinding sword beams.
The eleven swords radiated an awe-inspiring, righteous sword intent that seed to pierce through everything in its path.
At this mont, he once again wielded the supre sword technique taught by Gu Lan. Its power had reached a level comparable to that of a Divine Realm master.
"This sword is not one of slaughter but one of protection."
"So young, yet he can comprehend such profound sword intent—truly worthy of being a child of destiny. Elder Nightfall was not wrong about him!"
The onlookers gazed at Chen Feng's move, their eyes gleaming with admiration and astonishnt.
Though Chen Feng was still at the Imperial Realm, his mastery of swordsmanship already rivaled that of a typical Divine Realm practitioner.
This move, Sword Eleven, covered an exceptionally wide range, enveloping not only the Second Elder of the Bright Clan but also over half of the angelic army within its scope.
His purpose in advancing to shield the retreating Temple of Destiny was precisely because of Sword Eleven's unparalleled area of effect.
And it worked.
The sheer presence of this sword strike stunned the enemy, including the Second Elder of the Bright Clan and the other Divine Realm masters, making them frown.
As the River of Ti faded into oblivion, these Bright Clan masters had been prepared to act first and seize the initiative.
Yet to their surprise, Chen Feng's sword was faster—faster than any of them could have imagined.
Though his power might not yet be enough to pose a true threat, the speed and precision of his strike caught their attention, montarily disrupting their focus.
"Hmph! A firefly dares to compete with the sun and moon?"
The Second Elder of the Bright Clan let out a cold snort. With a simple hand gesture, sacred light enveloped his entire body, forming a dazzling barrier. A re wave of his hand summoned thousands of beams of holy radiance that descended with overwhelming might, effortlessly intercepting every sword beam and light Chen Feng had unleashed.
Under this devastating counterattack, Chen Feng suffered a backlash, his body flung backward like a ragged sack, crashing through the air with brutal force.
Nearby, Luo Ying paid no attention to Chen Feng's plight. Her armor shimred with brilliance as she wielded the Sky-Slaying Sword and charged headlong toward the angelic army.
Now was not the ti for hesitation. She could not afford to waste the precious opportunity Chen Feng had created for everyone at such a great cost.
"Kill those bastards!"
"Taking down one is worth it; taking down two is a profit. A thousand years from now, I'll still reach the Divine Realm!"
Behind Luo Ying, the soldiers of Cloudy Sky City surged forward again, fearless and undeterred by death.
The other Nine Heavens Alliance cultivators were not to be outdone. One by one, they unleashed their divine abilities, joining the fray with relentless determination.
Bang!
anwhile, Chen Feng finally crashed to the ground. The imnse impact left his face flushed, and blood rose to his throat, but he stubbornly swallowed it back.
"Master, this ti, my sword strike didn't disappoint you, did it?" Chen Feng murmured, gazing at the sky.
What he thought was just a rhetorical comnt unexpectedly drew an actual response from above.
"No, kid, you did an amazing job."
"Now, leave the rest to !"
The next mont, a powerful spatial ripple surged through the heavens. A figure in a green robe appeared, standing high above Chen Feng's head.
Chen Feng's face lit up with joy as he shouted toward the sky, "Master!"
Gu Lan looked down at him with a gentle smile. In his hand, a cyan longsword materialized, crafted entirely from condensed true energy.
Though the Three Clarity avatar lacked the ability to summon weapons equal in might to the original, Gu Lan's current power rendered that limitation negligible. Even without the Primordial Sword, his strength was enough to crush any cultivator below the peak of the Main God Realm.
With a single step, his figure flickered, appearing at the heart of the battlefield.
Then, he swung his sword.
Awakening!
Like the soft hum of insects after spring rain, the strike seed delicate and unassuming yet brimd with infinite vitality and power.
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