152: Chapter 152 Imperial Bloodline

In the span of a single breath, that incomparably tough Four Symbols light net shattered like fragile glass, crumbling into pieces with a thunderous roar!

"What?!"

Eighteenth Prince Wu Zhenkan's face turned paper-white in an instant, as if he had been struck head-on by an ancient divine mountain, his internal organs shifted out of place in that single moment.

He let out a muffled groan, his figure staggering back violently.

With every step back, the bluestone slabs beneath his feet exploded into spiderweb-like cracks, sending stone chips flying like rain.

He suddenly raised a hand to cover his mouth, but bright red blood gushed out from between his fingers, dripping onto the ground and blooming into shocking, eye-catching flowers of blood.

As the person controlling the Formation, the moment the light net shattered, a violent and incomparable backlash surged back along the Formation patterns, slamming fiercely into his Divine Soul—like a heavy hammer weighing thousands of jun, striking straight into the depths of his Spirit Platform!

His vision suddenly went black, his ears rang like thunder, his breath was completely chaotic, and his chest felt as if a turbulent sea was churning within. He forced his head up, his pupils reflecting that figure—

At this moment, Third Prince Wu Huang was no longer shrouded in blood Qi, but in boiling, dark red flames!

The flames rose and condensed behind him, transforming into a towering giant shadow that reached the heavens and stood upon the earth.

This giant shadow's face was blurred, with only a pair of red eyes like two blood moons hanging high, looking down upon all living things as if they were ants.

Just a phantom image emitted an ancient Battle Intent capable of shattering mountains and rivers and conquering the eight wildernesses, as if it had walked out of the primordial era, wanting to trample this heaven and earth beneath its feet.

Third Prince Wu Huang's eyes were burning red, all rationality faded, leaving only the most primitive and pure desire for destruction.

The look he cast at Eighteenth Prince Wu Zhenkan was like looking down at an ant that could be crushed at will, indifferent and yet extremely cold.

"Imperial Supreme Bloodline! It is the Imperial Supreme Bloodline! He actually awakened it!"

In the spectator stands, an old Cultivator with disheveled white hair stood up abruptly, the green jade staff he had nurtured for three hundred years falling to the ground with a "clang" and shattering into pieces.

He was completely unaware, his whole body trembling, his voice hoarse and distorted, as if he had seen myth become reality—

"Three thousand years ago, the Great Ancestor Wu Pohuang relied on this Bloodline to open the heavens with a punch and split the earth with a kick, conquering the boundless territory of our Great Wu... Hasn't this Bloodline been dormant for a long time? How could it... how could it reappear in the Third Prince?!"

"The Eighteenth Prince is finished... Once the Imperial Supreme Bloodline awakens, being invincible among peers is an understatement; this is a forbidden power that makes slaying enemies across ranks as easy as cutting grass!"

The entire venue was in an uproar, gasps, sharp intakes of breath, and horrified whispers weaving into a frenzy, exploding like layered waves.

Countless gazes were fixed on the ring, every face filled with shock and disbelief—no one expected that this duel, which should have been settled, would at the last moment unleash a monstrous wave that swallowed everything!

On the viewing platform, Emperor Wu Tianba pressed a palm onto the armrest.

The solid thousand-year ironwood armrest silently turned into powder, rustling down. The usual imperial majesty on his face was now torn apart by a vibration that bordered on loss of composure.

Deep in his pupils, wild joy erupted like a volcano, burning so fiercely it almost consumed his reason, yet in the next second, it was infiltrated by an indescribable darkness—that was a dread hidden deep within the Bloodline, an Emperor's intuition.

He stared at Third Prince Wu Huang, his knuckles turning white, whispering to himself: "Imperial Supreme Bloodline... My son has actually inherited the blood of the Great Ancestor..."

What did this mean? It meant the national fortune of Great Wu would soar again, it meant the royal family would have a Supreme rise to suppress an era, it meant the vast mandate of heaven would ultimately belong to Wu!

But deep within that wild joy, a thorn quietly pricked his heart—why was it Third Prince Wu Huang who awakened it?

This son whose temperament was as violent as a volcano, whose ambition was as deep as an abyss, and whom even he found difficult to fully control...

His gaze swept almost imperceptibly toward a certain place under the ring, then quickly retracted, suppressing all waves deep into the imperial abyss, leaving only the slight tremor in his fingers.

Beside him, Jian Xiaotian and Emperor had long since worn expressions as heavy as water.

The two exchanged a glance, both reading deep trepidation in the other's eyes.

Their cultivation was heaven-reaching, and they had seen countless Prodigies and various ancient Physiques in the Southern Region, but the "Imperial Supreme Bloodline" had only ever existed in books and legends.

At this moment, personally feeling that pressure as if coming from a primordial battlefield, even their Divine Souls were trembling slightly, and a sense of instinctive submission arose deep within their Spirit Platforms.

Somewhere in the crowd, Second Prince Wu Yuanchen's face had lost all color.

He clenched his fists tightly, his nails piercing deep into his palms, blood dripping from between his fingers, yet he was completely unaware.

Previously, he had fought Third Prince Wu Huang to a draw and even felt he had strength to spare... but now, looking at that figure on the stage shrouded in blood color, like a god or a demon, only ice-cold despair remained in his heart.

Imperial Supreme Bloodline... That was the Supreme Bloodline that needed to be recorded with the highest etiquette in his mother clan's inherited ancient books, an existence capable of suppressing an era.

Furthermore, behind Third Prince Wu Huang stood the military families who controlled nearly half of Great Wu's military power—how would those generals holding heavy troops view this scene today?

His path to seizing the throne, I fear, has reached... the edge of a cliff.

On the ring, Third Prince Wu Huang slowly stood up straight.

The dark red blood Qi swirling around him condensed into a tangible blood-colored battle armor covering his entire body, with magma-like flows in the gaps of the armor, flickering uncertainly.

The towering giant shadow behind him also solidified, its Evil Qi rushing to the heavens, shaking the clouds, even scattering the drifting clouds in the sky.

"Hahaha... Hahahaha—"

He laughed wildly at the sky, his laughter hoarse like metal scraping, yet it carried a tyrannical intent that made the Divine Soul tremble.

Where the sound waves passed, the air rippled visibly, like a boulder thrown into a pool of water, spreading outwards in circles, making the eardrums of the Cultivators below ache.

"Eighteenth Prince Wu Zhenkan! Do you see? This is power! This is the power flowing in the deepest part of our Great Wu royal family's Bloodline! In front of my Imperial Supreme Bloodline, your little Formation tricks—are nothing but dust!"

Before the words faded, he took a step forward.

Boom—!!!

The entire ring shook violently, and with his sole as the center, the bluestone slabs shattered inch by inch, stone fragments surged upwards, only to be ground into powder by the dispersing blood Qi, kicking up dust that filled the sky.

The giant shadow behind him moved with him. Before a single punch was thrown, the oppressive feeling that stirred the wind and clouds had already made countless Cultivators below weak in the knees, and those with weaker cultivation even fell to their knees with a "thump," cold sweat instantly soaking their clothes, their faces turning paper-white.

Eighteenth Prince Wu Zhenkan slowly wiped the blood from his lips.

The monstrous waves in his eyes returned to dead-water-like calm in an instant.

Deep in his pupils, countless tiny runes flashed, deduced, and reorganized at an unprecedented speed—deconstructing, analyzing, and calculating every wisp of Third Prince Wu Huang's blood Qi flow, every trajectory of his power, and even the leap in life level brought by the Awakening of the Imperial Supreme Bloodline, accurate to the millimeter.

He took a deep breath, his chest's rise and fall gradually smoothing out, his spine straightening bit by bit, like a green bamboo bending in a storm but refusing to break.

His voice was hoarse due to the damage to his Divine Soul, yet every word was clear, like jade striking against stone, resounding and forceful:

"Imperial Supreme Bloodline... It is indeed unexpected."

"But—"

He raised his eyes, his gaze like a bright blade, piercing through layers of blood Qi and nailing straight into Third Prince Wu Huang's eyes:

"It is not invincible."

"On the verge of death, and you still dare to bark!"

Third Prince Wu Huang's eyes flared with blood color, a ferocious smile appearing on his face, no longer having any patience.

He stomped his right foot, the ring sinking another three points, cracks spreading like spiderwebs in all directions.

The muscles on his right arm bulged like coiled Dragons, blue veins popping out like wriggling earthworms, all the dark red blood Qi gathering frantically in his fist—no Moves, no techniques, only the most primitive, most barbaric, most tyrannical—destruction!

He punched out.

Woo—Ooo—!!!

Where the fist edge passed, the air let out a shrill, mournful scream as if being torn apart, like thousands of vengeful ghosts from Hell collectively shrieking in one's ears!

Many Cultivators below clutched their heads and wailed, blood seeping from their seven orifices, and some even fainted directly.

The dark red fist aura flew from his hand, initially only the size of a human head, but in the blink of an eye, it expanded to the size of a house. Wherever it passed, space presented eerie twisted folds, light bending and dimming, as if even this heaven and earth were about to be beaten back to the un-opened Chaos by this punch!

The power of this punch was more than ten times stronger than the previous "Imperial Supreme Burning Heaven Palm"!

Eighteenth Prince Wu Zhenkan's pupils shrank to pinpoints.

The aura of death, cold and bone-piercing, instantly permeated his limbs and bones, and even the depths of his bone marrow felt a chill. The depths of his Spirit Platform were screaming warnings:

This punch could instantly kill a Golden Core Late Stage! It could severely injure a Nascent Soul Early Stage! Any defense under this punch was like thin paper, unable to withstand a single blow!

In this desperate situation, a flame of extreme determination ignited in his eyes—that was unwillingness, that was stubbornness, it was the most insane declaration of war against fate from a prince of humble Origins!

His hands formed countless afterimages before him, his fingertips tracing mysterious trajectories, as if outlining the first Law of the Universe's beginning.

The Golden Core within his body spun frantically at an unprecedented speed, pale golden life-bound spiritual power pouring out like a breached flood, his Meridians aching from being stretched in that single moment.

This was not enough!

A point of light as brilliant as a star suddenly lit up between his brows—that was the Divine Soul Origin!

He actually did not hesitate, resolutely extracting his most fundamental Divine Soul Origin, turning it into a blazing star stream, merging it into the hand seal at his fingertips!

This strike gambled not just his spiritual power, but his life!

"Heaven, Earth, Reverse, Chaos—"

"Yin, Yang, Invert, Hang—"

"With my soul... draw the power of heaven and earth—"

"Lesser—Heavenly—Star—Formation—"

"Activate!!!"

With every word uttered, his face turned paler, his breath withered a segment, and blood constantly gushed from the corners of his lips, dripping onto his clothes, shocking to the eye.

Yet his eyes grew brighter and brighter—like the most stubborn, loneliest, and most brilliant star in the night sky, vowing to burn everything to illuminate this certain-death situation!

When the last word "Activate," carrying the roar of blood and soul, broke through his lips—

The entire ring suddenly turned pitch black.

It was not the dimming of light, but as if it had been forcefully "dug out" from this heaven and earth by an invisible giant hand and thrown into an abyss of absolute void. Everything was silent, and even the wind stopped flowing.

Immediately after—

Hum...

Above the venue, the firmament seemed to have all its vanity wiped away by an invisible hand, revealing its most primitive, most profound background color.

Night descended.

No, it was the starry sky that descended!

Countless stars emerged out of thin air, as if summoned by the ancient, casting their radiance from beyond the endless Void Realm, rushing and converging towards Eighteenth Prince Wu Zhenkan.

Every star carried a vast aura spanning eternity, as if it had been waiting here since the beginning of heaven and earth.

In the blink of an eye, a miniature yet boundless "Heavenly Star Formation Diagram" grandly unfolded three feet above his head—

The Big Dipper, the ladle handle spanning the sky, pointing remotely at the Purple Micro Star, where the handle pointed, all things returned to concealment.

The Purple Micro Emperor Star hung high in the center of the sky, ruling over all directions, and beneath the Emperor Star, ten thousand stars bowed in worship.

Thousands of stars flickered and shone, reflecting each other, outlining a magnificent map of the primordial Universe. The galaxy flowed, as if the entire firmament had been moved onto this square inch of a ring.

Although it only covered a small area, that vast, ancient, and boundless aura originating from the endless sea of stars had already made the whole venue deathly silent.

All Cultivators held their breath, their Divine Souls trembling, as if they had witnessed with their own eyes a galaxy, from beyond the Nine Heavens, hanging upside down here—that was a power surpassing worldly martial force, a threshold that touched the Laws of heaven and earth!

And just at this moment.

That dark red fist aura, capable of shattering mountains and evaporating lakes and seas, roared into this miniature starry sky Domain—carrying the tyranny to destroy everything, carrying the unruliness of the Imperial Supreme Bloodline.

And then—

Like a clay ox entering the sea, silent and traceless.

It was swallowed up completely, gently and absolutely, by the rotating stars.

As if it had never existed.