116: Chapter 116 The Forgotten Ones
One thousand years, Empire of Finality.
A group of black-armored warriors surrounded a white-haired girl, their figures appearing exceptionally eerie under the dim moonlight.
"Qin Pan! Surrender now. Those who harbor delusions of becoming Emperor only have a path to death!"
"Furthermore, your Four Kings Pavilion has already been annihilated. If you beg for mercy from the First Emperor now, perhaps he might spare your life."
The leader of the black-armored warriors shouted, his voice ringing out clearly in the silent night, carrying an unquestionable authority.
Qin Pan looked coldly at the group of black-armored warriors before her.
Her snow-white hair danced wildly in the night breeze, and there was not a shred of fear in her eyes.
"Hmph, if the First Emperor can call himself Emperor, why can't I, Qin Pan?" Her voice was crisp and indifferent.
"As for the Four Kings Pavilion, they were just a bunch of trash; if they died, they died..."
The black-armored leader glared, "Audacious Qin Pan, how dare you defy the Heavenly Dao!"
Saying this, he waved his hand, and the black-armored warriors behind him gripped their weapons tightly, ready to attack at any moment.
Qin Pan tilted her head slightly, a cold smirk curling the corners of her lips.
"A rabble."
In an instant, a powerful aura radiated from her, and the surrounding air seemed to freeze.
The black-armored warriors felt this powerful aura and their hearts tightened, but under their leader's authority, they did not retreat.
The black-armored leader shouted, "Attack!"
The warriors surged toward Qin Pan like a tidal wave.
Qin Pan flashed, weaving through the crowd like a ghost.
【Balance Judgment】
【Judging...】
A giant, terrifying phantom of a balance scale slowly appeared, emitting a cold, gloomy light.
Qin Pan's figure appeared even more fierce under the reflection of the balance scale.
The black-armored warriors were stunned by this sudden sight, and their movements faltered slightly.
【Judgment Successful】
In an instant, the bodies of all the black-armored warriors began to rot, and their power rapidly drained away from them.
Their originally ferocious faces were now filled with horror and despair, and their painful screams echoed in the silent night sky.
"What?"
The lead black-armored general widened his eyes, looking at his gradually decaying hands in disbelief, "How is this possible?"
He tried to struggle, wanting to mobilize the power within his body to resist this strange erosion, only to find that everything was in vain.
Qin Pan looked contemptuously at the group of black-armored warriors trapped in desperate straits.
"A bunch of trash, daring to participate in a battle between gods."
Her voice was like a judgment from hell, cold and ruthless.
The black-armored warriors fell to the ground one after another, their armor scattered to the side, their former imposing demeanor completely gone.
The air was filled with a thick scent of blood and decay.
Qin Pan slowly walked forward, her feet stepping over those twisting, pained bodies.
Empire of Finality Imperial Capital, Kui City.
A man wearing an imperial crown with a towering figure stood atop the city gate tower. His gaze was deep and distant, as if he could pierce through this endless firmament.
The imperial crown was inlaid with brilliant gemstones, shimmering with dazzling light under the sun.
A breeze blew past, causing his robes to flutter, exuding an innate aura of royalty.
Below the tower was a bustling crowd and a prosperous market, but his thoughts did not seem to be there.
He frowned slightly, seemingly deep in thought.
The surrounding ministers were terrified into silence, not daring to easily break this tranquility.
Suddenly, a bird flew across the sky, and the man's eyes followed it.
"Did I forget something... something very important?"
Dead Realm.
This was a dark place, filled with endless eeriness and deathly silence. All around were jagged, strange rocks, casting eerie shadows in the dim light.
A one-armed swordsman carried a sword in one hand, his posture upright yet exuding endless loneliness.
His determined face was half-hidden by the darkness, and a look of resolution flickered in his only visible eye.
His clothes were ragged, but they could not hide the sharp aura within him.
The wind blew quietly, stirring his messy hair.
The one-armed swordsman tilted his head slightly, looking toward the endless, dark firmament, his thoughts churning.
And what was shocking was that beneath his feet lay countless corpses of ghosts and monsters.
These corpses were piled up in disarray, forming a terrifying small hill.
The swordsman stared at the long sword in his hand for a while, muttering to himself.
"The Old Monk, this prosperous age is as you wished." His voice was low and hoarse, filled with endless vicissitudes and emotion.
As soon as he finished speaking.
The swordsman's sword intent surged throughout his body; that majestic momentum seemed to want to break through all restraints and ascend straight to the ninth heaven.
The sharp sword intent was like a surging wave, seemingly about to pierce through this dim firmament.
He raised his long sword with his only remaining arm, looked up, and shouted loudly.
"Today, I, Sword Cultivator Jianxiuzi, take my life as the sword to sever my sins and kill my sword heart."
His voice was like thunder, exploding in this empty place, causing the surrounding air to tremble slightly.
"Sacrifice... Life!"
With this roar, the winds and clouds in the world changed color.
In an instant, a beam of sword light shot into the sky, piercing straight through the clouds.
There were rumblings in the sky, as if the firmament was responding to this powerful force.
And just at this moment.
A violent shout, like a clap of thunder, resounded throughout the Dead Realm, the sound waves vibrating, causing the originally eerie atmosphere in the Dead Realm to falter.
"Sword Cultivator Jianxiuzi! You have such great audacity!"
This voice contained endless anger and majesty, as if it could shatter a person's soul.
Upon hearing this, Sword Cultivator Jianxiuzi narrowed his eyes slightly, and he gripped the sword in his hand even tighter.
His knuckles turned white from the force, and the veins on his arm bulged, showing his inner tension.
Because the owner of this voice was none other than the Great Emperor of Fengdu.
The most powerful hound under the Emperor's seat, and also the most vicious one.
His strength had almost reached the pinnacle of the world...