777: Chapter 778 The Demon King Who Spits Blood in Anger

"Li Xuanfeng and Shi Jingxian are being pinned down by Ling Guzhou and Gu Shitian! Ji Qingyi was struck by Xuan Yi just now; she's definitely injured!"

Mo Cha grew more agitated as he spoke, his devil chains dancing wildly around him as they knocked away several incoming Talismans. He roared:

"As long as the three of you strike together with a thunderous blow, you'll surely crush these scoundrels' turtle shells in an instant and seize the dao seed!"

"Are you waiting for them to catch their breath and pick us off one by one?!"

"Or are you simply using us as pathfinders to wear down their strength?!"

Mo Cha's roar was like lighting the fuse of a powder keg.

Even the notoriously fierce Young Lord of the Myriad Devil Abyss was forced to personally ask for help, showing how difficult the battle was and how troublesome the enemy had become.

For a moment, the morale of the Prodigies fighting bitterly below began to waver.

"He's right! Fellow Prodigies, do not hold back! If you don't strike now, then when?!"

These blunt and harsh complaints reached the ears of the three clearly.

Huang Jiutian's back stiffened, the veins on his forehead throbbing slightly as he suppressed a surge of frustration he couldn't vent.

Strike?

As if he didn't want to!

Killing intent lurked in the surrounding Void Realm, and a cold aura was locked tightly onto his Bloodline. If his spiritual energy fluctuated even slightly too much, it would trigger a frantic assault from the person in the shadows.

These Prodigies saw things too superficially, assuming they were avoiding the fight out of fear. But who could understand the frustration of being locked down by an expert of the same level, unable to move?

Huang Jiutian sneered inwardly. It was easy for them to talk; why didn't they come up and try it? What did it feel like to have your Meridians locked and your movements restricted?

Ao Zhan's dragon eyes were cold and focused, his expression indifferent, but his patience had long since reached its limit.

The Dragon Clan was naturally proud and always acted overbearingly. When had they ever been restrained like this?

The Daoist Son of Myriad Phenomena's lips twitched uncontrollably as he wailed repeatedly in his heart: 'Stop rushing us! We want to move too, but the problem is we can't!'

After a moment, he took a deep breath, forcibly suppressing the churning blood in his chest and the suffocating feeling of being locked down.

A solemn expression of compassion and natural Dao Rhyme instantly appeared on his face. His voice rang out clearly, like a spring flowing over rocks, reaching every corner:

"Infinite Celestial Worthy."

As soon as those three words were spoken, they carried a faint echo of the Dao, making him appear like a transcendent master.

"Fellow Daoists, you are mistaken." He shook his head slightly, his eyes filled with the wisdom and compassion of one who had seen through the world.

"Opportunities are mysterious and profound, determined by fate in the shadows."

"Since this Quasi-Immortal Emperor dao seed is fated for Fellow Daoist Battle Asura and has gained his recognition, it is the will of the Heavenly Dao and the destination of destiny."

"We who walk the path of cultivation should follow the mandate of heaven. How can we perform acts of plunder and try to go against heaven to change fate?"

He paused, his gaze sweeping over the stunned Prodigies, his tone becoming increasingly earnest:

"Once greed arises, the Dao Heart is clouded; once anger is born, one is plagued by Karmic Obstruction."

"As you fight bloodily here today, have you ever considered that this itself is the work of a Heart Demon, a deviation from the path of the Great Dao?"

"Listen to this humble daoist: let go of your obsessions and seek your own opportunities. That is the Righteous Path."

These words were spoken with such grandeur and surrounded by Dao Rhyme that, combined with his sage-like appearance, he truly seemed like a master advising people toward goodness.

However, his heart was roaring frantically: 'To hell with the Heavenly Dao's will! I want to snatch it too! That's a Quasi-Immortal Emperor dao seed!'

A Heaven-Defying divine object that can allow one to Breakthrough to Immortal Venerable and lay a supreme dao foundation!

But those bastards in the shadows were locking onto him so tightly that he didn't dare move an inch.

Hearing this, Huang Jiutian's lips twitched imperceptibly. He inwardly cursed the Daoist Son of Myriad Phenomena; his ability to put on an act was truly unparalleled.

But on the surface, he had to cooperate, speaking just as calmly:

"Brother Daoist Myriad Phenomena's words resonate deeply with me. The True Phoenix Lineage has a Legacy from ancient times and never takes what others prize, let alone engages in plunder."

"This dao seed already has its master. Forcibly seizing it would violate the Heavenly Dao. This item is indeed not my, Huang Jiutian's, Opportunity."

His voice was calm yet carried the unique majesty of the True Phoenix Bloodline, making it impossible for anyone to doubt him.

Ao Zhan snorted coldly. Golden light flashed as his dragon eyes opened and closed, and a boundless dragon pressure bore down like a mountain, causing the clamoring Prodigies to catch their breath.

His voice was low like thunder, carrying the authority of an Immortal Sovereign:

"Since when is it your turn to meddle in this Sovereign's affairs?"

With just one sentence, the Prodigies' faces turned pale, and they became as quiet as cicadas in winter.

"If you wish to fight, then go fight yourselves. Stop your noisy chatter."

His dragon tail flicked slightly, stirring the wind and clouds, yet he showed no intention of moving forward.

As Ao Zhan's cold and indifferent words fell, a dead silence descended upon the cliff.

With a few light words of excuse, the three of them had categorized all the slaughter, all the sacrifices, and everyone's desperate struggle as nothing more than Heart Demon-driven delusions.

Grandiose and hypocritical in every word.

Below the cliff, in a corner of the crowd, Mu Chenyu's eyes twitched violently.

Holy crap, are these the top Prodigies of the Immortal Realm? Their skin is so thick!

They clearly don't dare to act, yet they spout nonsense about Heavenly Dao and opportunities. I've really learned something today.

In the distance, Lin Xiaowan's clear eyes blinked repeatedly, her small mouth slightly open, unable to close for a long time.

Mo Cha stared blankly at the three above, a surge of blood suddenly rushing up his throat from his chest.

"Pfft—!!"

A mouthful of thick, black devil blood erupted without warning, splashing onto the parched rocks and corroding them with wisps of black smoke.

He was already riddled with injuries and his Devilish Qi was in chaos; now, he was so infuriated by the hypocritical words of these three that his Dao Heart wavered and his blood flowed in reverse.

His blood-red eyes glared fixedly at Huang Jiutian and the others, and the devil chains around Mo Cha vibrated violently, emitting a piercing, metallic screech.

A bunch of hypocrites! They clearly wanted to watch the tigers fight from the mountain and wait until everyone was exhausted before stepping in to easily pick the fruits of victory.

Mo Cha's chest heaved violently as he prepared to shout and curse them publicly.

Just then—

"Woom—!!!"

A clear, chilling sword cry that seemed to pierce through the ages suddenly tore through the noisy air.

This sword cry was not the sound of weapons clashing, but a vibration of the pure Sword Dao Origin—chilling, aloof, and majestic—piercing straight into the Divine Soul of every Cultivator.

It was abrupt and domineering, forcibly snatching the attention of everyone present.

To the west of the cliff, in a patch of ruined sky already shredded by Sword Qi, a streak of pure cyan light suddenly flared up.

Everyone instinctively turned their heads and gazed over.

There, two figures stood facing each other in mid-air.

One was in a green robe, standing as tall and straight as a pine tree, his long sword hanging down, his aura as reserved as the sea—warm yet heavy.

The other was in white, cold and solitary, surrounded by desolate Sword Qi, his lone sword held across his chest, his Sword Intent as chilling as frost—aloof and resolute.

It was Li Xuanfeng and the Little Sword Emperor, Ling Guzhou.

After their long struggle, their sword moves had clashed and their offense and defense had shifted, keeping them in a constant stalemate.

Ling Guzhou's Desolate Sword Dao was ruthless and lethal, every strike seeking a life, while Li Xuanfeng's Noble Sword Dao defended in all directions, as stable as a mountain.

Others only knew their fight was intense and difficult to settle, but no one knew that in those brief moments, the two had already exchanged countless blows on the level of the Sword Dao.

At this moment, the stalemate was suddenly broken.