168: Chapter 168 The Golden Skull

Xuanyuan Zhanxian stood with his hands behind his back.

The hem of his black robe was whipped violently by the gale, yet his figure remained as steady as a deep pool or a towering mountain, motionless.

His gaze, like a blade tempered a thousand times, pierced through the sky-filling blood-colored dust and smoke, locking firmly onto the distance.

In the distance, a hill piled high with thousands of weapons stood in silence.

This was a mountain of death.

Broken spears, shattered greatswords, rusted scimitars, dented shields... layered and dense, it was as if an ancient battlefield had been uprooted and violently smashed onto this wasteland.

At the summit, a broken sword pointed diagonally toward the heavens. Deep within the cracks of its blade, a faint sharpness still flowed—a light that was weak yet tenacious, like the breath of a sleeping giant beast, or the final gaze of a spirit unwilling to close its eyes in death.

"The Killing Intent here... is actually as solid as iron."

Chu Zhanxiao's voice carried the coarseness and heaviness of grinding gravel.

He applied a little pressure, and the withered bones beneath his feet emitted a crisp "crack," shattering into dust.

Bone fragments mixed with dark red sand were swept into the air by the gale, then drifted down, landing on his shoulders and in his hair, like a silent funeral.

"It's suffocating."

Jian Tanghuang did not reply.

She raised her hand to brush against a relatively intact skeleton beside her. The moment her fingertips touched the surface of the bone, a faint Spiritual Qi shimmered—

This was the remnant of Spiritual Qi that had dried up millions of years ago, outlining vague yet still majestic Dao marks on the ghastly white bones. They flickered in and out of existence, as if narrating some kind of unwillingness and regret.

She withdrew her hand, her sword-like eyebrows slightly furrowed.

"These remains have been buried for at least a million years."

Her voice was very soft, so soft that it was almost swallowed by the gale, yet every word was clear, "Judging by the density of these Dao marks, they were definitely not ordinary Cultivators when they were alive."

"At the very least... they were experts of the Soul Transformation Stage."

Soul Transformation Stage.

These three words landed in the air, weighing more than a thousand jun.

Soul Transformation experts from a million years ago, their bones forming a mountain, piled up here.

What kind of catastrophe must that have been?

Xuanyuan Zhanxian finally spoke.

His voice was low, yet it pierced through the roar of the gale and the sky-filling sand, clearly reaching the ears of the two people beside him:

"Remaining uncorrupted for a million years, with the Dao marks still present... the key lies in that mountain of weapons."

He raised his hand and pointed into the distance. Where his fingertip reached, the sharpness of the broken sword at the summit seemed to flare intensely for an instant, as if responding to his gaze.

"That sword is guarding something."

Before his words had faded.

The entire plain suddenly trembled violently.

The tremor did not feel like an earthquake; it felt more like—something sleeping deep beneath the earth had awakened.

From the cracked fissures in the ground, eerie blue cold air surged out, icy and bone-chilling, carrying the scent of death that had rotted for eternity. Those withered bones scattered in the bloody soil actually began to slowly squirm.

First, the finger bones curled slightly, the grinding of the joints emitting a teeth-aching "click-clack" sound.

Then, the forearm bones and leg bones assembled themselves, clicking together seamlessly. Shattered ribcages flipped out from the bloody soil, carrying wet black mud, and precisely connected with the spines.

In just a few breaths.

Skeleton after skeleton struggled to stand up from the blood-stained soil.

In their hollow eye sockets, eerie blue soul fires suddenly ignited, like countless ghost lamps being lit simultaneously on the dark red plain.

This firelight was cold and flickering, illuminating the blackened blood stains still remaining between their teeth, and also lighting up the weapons floating in the air—

Broken spears automatically returned to position, their tips pointing directly at the three, flickering with cold light; rusted scimitars spun, carving out lethal arcs, the tattered cloth strips on their hilts snapping in the wind like soul-summoning banners; countless arrows hovered in formation, wreathed in eerie blue Death Qi, ready to strike, dense and numerous, blotting out the sky.

In the blink of an eye, thousands of skeletons formed a black tide, surrounding the three of them completely.

Layer upon layer, circle upon circle, with no end in sight.

The crackling of the soul fires merged into a piercing hum, intertwining with the metallic ringing of the vibrating weapons, becoming the only "living energy" on this plain of death—a hair-raising, "living energy" that belonged to the dead.

"Fight!"

Chu Zhanxiao roared suddenly, his voice like a thunderclap, shaking the surrounding skeletons into a momentary pause.

Spiritual Qi surged around his body. Beneath his black robe, his muscles bulged, and Dragon scales spread from his neck to his cheeks. His golden vertical pupils burned in the dim light like two scorching suns!

He clenched his fists, without any flashy moves, only the purest, most violent release of power—

Boom!

The three skeletons charging at the very front were instantly smashed apart at the waist, bone fragments splattering everywhere, and the eerie blue soul fires bloomed in the air like cold fireworks, only to be extinguished immediately.

Outside the Martial Arts Arena, there was a collective gasp.

Countless eyes were fixed on the numbers appearing on the mirror—Great Xia's points had suddenly jumped from one hundred and twenty to one hundred and twenty-three.

The bright red numbers were glaring against the dark, blood-colored background, like three drops of freshly fallen blood.

Jian Tanghuang's figure flickered like a phantom, and the long sword in her hand transformed into a galaxy of stars.

She did not clash head-on with the skeletons; her sword tip only struck at the eye sockets where the soul fires danced—precise, elegant, one sword per kill.

Each sword strike carried the cold clarity of moonlight. Wherever the sword light swept, the eerie blue soul fire would extinguish with a soft "puff," like a candle flame, and the skeleton would collapse into a pile of rotten bones.

However.

No matter how fast her sword speed was, it could not keep up with the pace of the skeletons' resurrection.

Just as she cleared an open space, new skeletons would struggle to climb up from the bloody soil, their eerie blue soul fires dancing in their eye sockets, as if mocking, as if sneering—

Futile.

Your resistance is merely futile.

Even more troublesome were the floating weapons.

Without them realizing it, they had formed a complete killing formation.

Spears and scimitars rotated in the outer layer like wheels, impenetrable; arrows waited in the inner layer, their cold gleam like rain.

Every time the formation shifted, dozens of lethal blades would strike simultaneously from all directions, with tricky angles and perfect coordination, as if invisible ghost generals were directing them one by one.

Chu Zhanxiao's Dragon-transformed body was slashed by the blades, leaving streaks of blood. The fresh blood seeped out through the gaps in the Dragon scales, dripping onto the bloody ground without a sound.

Although Jian Tanghuang's sword net was impenetrable, she was still grazed by a stray arrow, leaving a charred burn mark on her sleeve, with faint wisps of smoke rising from the edge.

"Form a barrier!"

Xuanyuan Zhanxian shouted in a low voice, his hands forming seals with lightning speed, his ten fingers flying to create layers of afterimages.

His left hand condensed pure white Sword Qi, extremely hard and Yang; his right hand gathered pitch-black Spiritual Qi, extremely soft and Yin.

The two completely different forces circled in his palms, repelling and attracting each other, like Yin and Yang fish swimming.

The next second, the black and white Sword Qi surged out like a tide, weaving into a translucent barrier around the three of them.

Black and white patterns flowed endlessly on the barrier, rippling like water and rotating like a Taiji diagram.

When the sky-filling weapon blades crashed against the barrier—

A piercing metallic clang tore through the sky!

Sparks showered down like a torrential rain, blooming with fleeting brightness on the dim, blood-colored plain.

The black and white patterns on the barrier rippled violently, yet it remained as solid as a fortress, blocking all lethal attacks on the outside.

"We cannot keep draining ourselves like this."

Jian Tanghuang's breathing was slightly rapid, her chest heaving slightly.

She thrust her sword through the eye socket of the skeleton in front of her, watching as a new skeleton stood up from the blood-stained soil, the eerie blue soul fire dancing in its eye socket, a thick, inseparable worry gathering between her brows.

"They are endless; we will be exhausted to death here."

Xuanyuan Zhanxian did not answer.

His gaze remained locked on that mountain of weapons, locked on the broken sword at the summit pointing diagonally toward the heavens.

The blades outside the barrier were still crashing frantically, the metallic ringing deafening, yet he seemed to turn a deaf ear to it.

Finally, he spoke.

"To capture the bandits, first capture their king."

His voice was calm, so calm that he did not sound like someone struggling in this purgatory of death.

"That broken sword is their heart."

He raised his head, his gaze like a torch.

"Destroy it, and these spirits will naturally rest in peace."

As soon as he finished speaking, the Sword Qi around him suddenly boiled. The black and white Spiritual Qi almost swallowed him whole, his robes dancing wildly in the agitation of the Spiritual Qi, his long hair flying like a dark banner.

The next second—

He transformed into a black and white whirlwind, sweeping toward the direction of the weapon mountain!

Wherever the whirlwind passed, skeletons were ground into dust by the Sword Qi, bone fragments splattered, and the eerie blue soul fires extinguished like candle flames in the whirlwind, without even having time to let out a scream.

The floating weapons could not withstand it either—spears broke into several pieces, falling as iron filings; scimitars shattered into fragments, the remnants of the blades carving out one last cold arc in the air; even the sky-filling arrows were reduced to ashes in the violent Sword Qi, leaving not even a trace behind.

Jian Tanghuang and Chu Zhanxiao exchanged a glance, no words needed, and immediately followed closely behind him.

Lightning surged around Chu Zhanxiao. After his Dragon transformation, every punch he threw carried the power to collapse mountains and split the earth. Wherever his fist wind passed, skeletons fell in swathes like wheat stalks, bone fragments flew, and soul fires extinguished.

Jian Tanghuang guarded the flank, her sword light weaving into an impenetrable sword net, blocking the stray weapon blades, strike by strike, clearing all obstacles on the path ahead for Xuanyuan Zhanxian.

However.

The closer they got to the weapon mountain, the more terrifying the resistance became.

At first, the skeletons were just cannon fodder—their bones brittle, their soul fires weak, shattering with a single blow.

But by the time they reached the mountainside, the skeletons that appeared actually had complete phantom battle armor manifesting on them.

Some were covered in bronze armor, with ancient, simple patterns, exuding the vicissitudes of time; some wore black iron garments, heavy as mountains, each step leaving deep indentations in the ground; some even wore jade crowns, with Spiritual Qi faintly flowing over their skeletons, their Aura imposing.

Their movements were as fast as ghosts, their strength surged, and their soul fires changed from eerie blue to deep blue—that was a qualitative leap, an accumulation of quantity.

Their strength had approached the Minor Achievement of the Golden Core.

Chu Zhanxiao's war halberd was caught by a bronze-armored skeleton, the impact making his tiger's mouth numb, his entire arm trembling slightly.

Jian Tanghuang's sword light thrust toward a black iron-garment skeleton, but it was precisely parried by the opponent using a bone saber—the blade collided with the bone saber, emitting a loud metallic clang, sparks showering down, shaking her wrist until it sank.

"What on earth are these ghost things?!"

Chu Zhanxiao gritted his teeth and roared, smashing the skull of the bronze-armored skeleton with one punch, the eerie blue soul fire exploding in the air like fireworks, brilliant yet fleeting.

"Why do they get stronger the more we kill?!"

Xuanyuan Zhanxian did not answer.

His speed became even faster.

He was like a bolt of black and white lightning, darting left and right through the skeleton horde. Wherever he passed, bone fragments splattered and soul fires extinguished.

His target was the summit, that broken sword, and that true "King" that had not yet appeared.

When the three finally charged to the foot of the mountain.

A teeth-aching sound of grinding joints came from the summit—the sound was slow, heavy, like an existence that had slept for a million years, slowly turning its stiff neck.

Everyone looked up.

They saw a skeleton clad in tattered golden armor slowly standing up from the pile of weapons.

Its movements were very slow, so slow that it seemed to be using all its strength. But every movement carried an indescribable majesty and pressure.

Although the golden armor was tattered, it still revealed the glory of the past.

The patterns carved on the shoulder armor were blurry, but the words "Four Symbols" could be vaguely recognized—that was a mark only possessed by ancient Sects, a proof of once dominating the world.

Its right hand gripped the broken sword.

The blade hummed incessantly in its hand, the humming sound low, like weeping, and also like cheering—a million years had passed, and it had finally waited for the person to hold it.

And the soul fire in its eye sockets—

Was not eerie blue, nor deep blue. It was pure gold.

As the golden light danced, it carried a heart-palpitating, unbearable pressure—that was the color belonging to a king, the color belonging to that powerhouse who had dominated the world a million years ago.

The moment the golden-armored skeleton stood up, the thousands of skeletons chasing the three retreated in unison as if seeing a ghost or god, clearing a vacuum zone.

In their hollow eye sockets, the soul fires danced violently—that was fear, an absolute reverence for the king, engraved in their bones.

"Intruders..."

The golden-armored skeleton spoke.

Its voice was as hoarse as rusty iron plates rubbing against each other, every word seeming to be squeezed out from the depths of its throat, soaked with a million years of resentment and unwillingness.

"Die—"

Before the words had finished.

It swung the broken sword.

A golden Sword Qi that spanned the heavens and earth slashed toward the three!

That Sword Qi was as glorious as the descent of the great sun, carrying an unparalleled domineering nature and the determination to destroy everything. Wherever the Sword Qi passed, the air was torn apart, emitting a piercing screech.

The ground split open into a bottomless trench, as if cleaved by the sharp blade of a Heavenly God.

Even the surrounding skeletons did not have time to escape; they were shaken into powder by the aftermath of the Sword Qi, their soul fires not even having the chance to extinguish, simply annihilated into nothingness.

The power of this sword strike—

Had reached the absolute limit of the Major Achievement of the Golden Core!

Xuanyuan Zhanxian's pupils shrank.

But instead of retreating, he advanced.

The Spiritual Qi in his body circulated frantically, and the spiritual power in his Dantian surged like boiling magma.

The black and white Sword Qi condensed at his fingertips, compressed, and compressed again—transforming into a sword ray as thin as a hair, yet condensed to the extreme.

Although the sword ray was thin, it contained enough power to destroy the heavens and the earth.

"Break!"

He shouted in a low voice, and the sword ray from his fingertip pierced through the air.

The black and white sword ray, thin as a hair, collided violently in mid-air with the golden Sword Qi, which was as glorious as the great sun—

There was no earth-shattering roar as expected.

There was only light.

Blinding, all-consuming light.

Gold and black-and-white intertwined, biting each other, annihilating each other, instantly illuminating the entire blood-colored plain, illuminating the entire weapon mountain, and illuminating the tens of thousands of terrified faces outside the mirror.

In the center of the light, a shockwave erupted and spread from the point of collision.

Wherever the air wave passed, the surrounding skeletons did not even have time to scream before they instantly turned into fly ash, leaving not even bone fragments behind.

The weapons on the hill tumbled down, emitting a chaotic roar.

The whole mountain was shaking violently, the earth moving and the mountains swaying, as if it were about to fall apart at any moment and sink into a bottomless abyss.

It is unknown how much time passed.

The light finally gradually dissipated.

Everyone could see the scene on the field—

The broken sword in the golden-armored skeleton's hand had broken off another piece.

The remnant blade fell to the ground, emitting a crisp, mournful sound, like a final sigh.

And Xuanyuan Zhanxian—

Stepped back three paces.

Each step left deep footprints on the hard rocky ground, with spiderweb-like cracks at the edges of the footprints.

A wisp of fresh blood spilled from the corner of his mouth, dripping down his chin onto his black robe, silent and soundless, its color indistinguishable.

The chest of his robe was torn by the aftermath of the Sword Qi, revealing shocking blood streaks, and fresh blood soaked the torn fabric, shocking to the eye.

He slowly raised his hand to wipe away the blood from the corner of his mouth.

The movement was slow, yet steady.

Then—

He smiled.

This smile was faint, so faint it was almost indiscernible.

But in his eyes, a kind of light ignited—this was the Battle Intent that could burn the heavens, the excitement of becoming stronger when facing the strong, and the pride of never backing down even when facing a powerhouse from a million years ago.

"A bit interesting."

His voice was somewhat hoarse, yet still steady.

He clenched his fists, and the black and white Sword Qi re-condensed around his body, even more intense and violent than before.

"A million years of obsession, to be able to have such power—it is worth me going all out."