165: Chapter 162 Chen Heng's Shock

Above the sky, only Chen Zhiwen and that shadow remained, standing side by side.

His black robes fluttered, holding a long sword, he looked down at the ground below, his eyes indifferent, just like a god... in charge of life and death!

At this moment, the entire Zetian Sect was silent as the grave.

All the Disciples watching the battle had long been scared pale, their bodies trembling.

They looked at that figure standing proudly above the Nine Heavens, their eyes filled only with endless awe and... fear!

"Stop... stop!"

From the mountain forest came Fang Tao's weak and terrified voice.

"We... admit defeat!"

"Don't... don't kill us!"

Chu Chaosheng's voice followed immediately, filled with begging and despair.

They were truly afraid!

In the face of death, so-called dignity and so-called pride became worthless.

Chen Zhiwen did not speak, just quietly looking at them.

That shadow slowly raised its hand, and within its palm, a mass of dark energy capable of annihilating everything was rapidly condensing.

Feeling that destructive aura, the five of them were scared out of their wits!

"We are willing to offer compensation!"

Fang Tao used all his strength to roar.

"The Great Yan Dynasty is willing... willing to take out three High Grade Spiritual Veins, ten spirit mines, and ten billion Spirit Stones to compensate the Great Xuan Dynasty!"

"The Great Chu Dynasty... is also willing!"

"The Tianluo Sect... is also willing!"

...

Voices filled with humiliation and unwillingness rang out one after another.

They each stated their price, just hoping to trade for a way to survive.

Hearing these promises, a look of satisfaction finally appeared on Chen Zhiwen's indifferent face.

He nodded slightly towards the shadow.

The dark energy in the shadow's palm slowly dissipated, and then the entire figure turned into a wisp of black smoke, merged into Chen Zhiwen's body, and disappeared.

Chen Zhiwen put away the dao-slaying sword, swept his gaze over the five disheveled figures below, and said in a calm voice.

"Remember your words today."

"If I do not see the items within three days..."

"You will bear the consequences."

Having said this, he ignored the five of them, turned and took a step, his figure disappearing into the sky.

Leaving behind only those five Great Grandmasters, who were severely injured, their Dao Hearts shattered, their faces filled with the relief of surviving a catastrophe and endless humiliation.

And... the entire Zetian Sect, in a deathly silence.

This battle was destined to be recorded in the annals of the desolate region.

The name Chen Zhiwen was also destined to be like an insurmountable mountain, pressing down on the hearts of all Cultivators of this generation.

For a long, long time.

Until the clouds on the horizon were dyed a magnificent blood-red by the setting sun, the terrifying pressure that had shrouded the Zetian Sect slowly dispersed.

The Disciples of the Zetian Sect, like people drowning who had finally breathed fresh air, collapsed to the ground one by one, gasping for breath.

In their eyes, there still remained an indelible horror.

They looked at the five severely injured Great Grandmasters, their expressions extremely complex.

There was pity, there was the sadness of seeing one's kind perish, but more than that, it was a reverence from the bottom of their hearts.

Everyone knew that the Great Chu, Great Yan, and Tianluo Sect... these once high and mighty forces had suffered heavy losses from this battle, and more importantly, their backbones had been broken.

And the Great Xuan Dynasty, with the rise of Chen Zhiwen, would reach an unprecedented Peak.

...

The night grew deep.

The moon was like a hook.

The cold light sprinkled across the courtyard, stretching the shadow of an old pine tree very long.

The earth-shattering battle during the day seemed like a thing of the past, gently buried by this quiet night.

Inside the courtyard prepared by the Zetian Sect for distinguished guests, Chen Zhiwen sat alone by a stone table.

On the table were a pot of clear wine and two jade cups.

He picked up the wine pot, poured a cup for himself, and then poured a cup for the empty one opposite him.

The wine was clear and cold, shimmering with a faint halo under the moonlight, like crushed stars.

He raised his wine cup, toasted the cold moon from afar, and then drank it all in one gulp.

The spicy wine slid down his throat into his stomach, turning into a warmth.

He did not look into the distance, nor did he ponder the battle situation; he just sat quietly, his gaze falling on the swaying moon reflection in the cup, his expression calm, like an ancient well without ripples.

It was as if the man who had fought five alone, possessed Divine Might, and was like a demon god during the day, was not him.

He was waiting.

Waiting for the news Wang Ming would bring back.

And also waiting for a result.

A breeze blew, causing the old pine in the courtyard to rustle, and an aged figure appeared silently on the other side of the stone table.

The person who arrived was wearing a plain robe, his hair half-white, and his face was etched with the traces of time, but his eyes were still as deep as the starry sky.

It was none other than the Old Ancestor of the Great Xuan Dynasty, Chen Heng.

Chen Heng's gaze fell on Chen Zhiwen, his eyes filled with complexity.

There was gratification, pride, but more than that, it was a kind of... unfamiliarity that even he himself had not realized.

The speed at which the junior before him was growing had completely exceeded his understanding.

He even felt that he could no longer see through him.

"Old Ancestor."

Chen Zhiwen looked up, a faint smile on his face, as if he had long known of his arrival.

He gently pushed the cup of wine that had already been poured across from him.

Chen Heng sat down silently, picked up the wine cup, but did not drink, instead caressing the slightly cool cup wall with his fingertips.

"You did very well in today's battle."

After a long time, he slowly spoke, his voice somewhat dry.

"It's just that it was a bit too dangerous."

Chen Zhiwen heard this and just smiled, without explaining.

He knew that in the Old Ancestor's eyes, him fighting five alone was indeed a risky move.

But only he himself knew that from beginning to end, he had never truly been in a desperate situation.

Those five, while seemingly powerful, were far from reaching the point where they could threaten his life.

The courtyard fell into silence once again.

Only the wind occasionally blew by, bringing a trace of coolness.

Chen Heng looked at the calm junior before him, and the curiosity in his heart finally overcame all other emotions.

He put down the wine cup, his gaze becoming sharp, and asked word by word.

"Zhiwen, that shadow you summoned today..."

"What exactly is it?"

This question had been hovering in his mind from the moment that shadow appeared, leaving him completely unable to understand.

That aura was too ancient, too evil, filled with inauspiciousness and deathly silence.

It was definitely not the Human Race, nor was it the Yao Race, and it was certainly not any kind of living being he knew of.

It was a kind of... Taboo that seemed not to belong in this world!

Chen Zhiwen looked at the lingering gravity and inquiry in Chen Heng's eyes and was not surprised.

He knew that he could not hide this from the Old Ancestor.

He had never thought of hiding it either.

"Does the Old Ancestor want to see it?"

He did not answer directly but asked a rhetorical question.

Chen Heng nodded heavily.

Chen Zhiwen said no more.

He slowly raised his right hand, palm facing up, and wisps of jet-black mist began to dissipate from his palm.

That mist was cold, deathly, carrying a desolation originating from the ancient past.

They continuously swirled, condensed, and twisted above Chen Zhiwen's palm.

The surrounding light began to dim.

The Spiritual Qi in the air seemed to be frightened by something, fleeing wildly in all directions.

The temperature of the entire courtyard dropped sharply at this moment, as if winter had arrived.

Chen Heng's pupils shrank violently!

He stared fixedly at that mass of black mist, feeling his own Divine Soul trembling uncontrollably!

It was a fear originating from the instinct of life!

Soon, that mass of black mist condensed into a blurry human figure.

The figure was pitch black, its face chaotic and indistinct, surrounded by inauspicious black Qi, as if it were a demon god walking out of the Nine Nether Hell.

It floated quietly behind Chen Zhiwen, not emitting any powerful pressure, but just by standing there, it made this world lose its color.

The space around it presented a subtle sense of distortion.

It was as if the Laws of this world could not fully accommodate its existence!

"This... this..."

Chen Heng stood up abruptly, his face filled with unbelievable shock!

Even though he had lived for hundreds of years and was well-informed, he had never seen such a bizarre existence!

From this Clone, he could not feel a shred of vitality, only a pure, ultimate... deathly silence and darkness.

It was as if it itself was the Incarnation of death and the end!

"This is the Indestructible Dark Clan."