373: Chapter 373 The cause and effect of this place originated from me, and it shall be ended by me!

A goose-yellow figure stepped out first.

The young girl wore a simple, elegant dress. Her features were exquisitely beautiful, and while her eyes carried a hint of girlish innocence, they also hid a trace of transcendent indifference.

Luo Xiaojiu poked her head out, curiously observing the battlefield below, which resembled Hell—a sea of blood and a mountain of corpses lay before her, yet she showed no fear. Only her clear eyes seemed to be examining an ordinary scene.

Wherever her gaze swept, even the roiling blood-evil qi seemed to avoid her like a venomous snake or scorpion, not daring to draw near.

Following closely, a figure in black robes stepped out slowly.

Li Jiuyou's complexion remained pale, but it could not hide the cold, sharp edge in his eyes.

His black hair hung to his shoulders, and his body was surrounded by a faint Nether Qi. It seemed to vaguely echo the sea of blood and mountain of corpses below, yet it also carried a distinct sense of detachment.

His gaze swept across the mottled walls of Yuyao Pass, passed over the Human Race Cultivators who were fighting with blood and sweat, refusing to retreat even in death, and looked at those figures who had fallen into piles of corpses while still gripping their weapons—

His bony fingers quietly tightened, and a flash of icy, stern color crossed the depths of his eyes. That was anger at the rampage of the Yao Race, and also a sigh for the persistence of the Human Race.

Finally, a white figure slowly stepped out of the carriage.

His white clothes were whiter than snow, unblemished by a single speck of dust—as if he had never been stained by any of the world's blood or grime.

His black hair flowed like a waterfall, tied up simply with a plain ribbon, cascading over his shoulders and dancing lightly in the wind.

Chu Changsheng's face still appeared young, yet it was etched with the indifference of one who had witnessed the vicissitudes of life, showing not a ripple of emotion.

His eyes were as deep as the boundless starry sky, hiding the brilliance of billions of stars, and also the cold, eternal indifference of ages past.

He merely looked down casually at the battlefield that stretched for ten thousand miles, a river of blood—his gaze was calm and waveless—without pity, without anger, without excitement.

It was as if the mountain of corpses and sea of blood, the fierce fighting before him, were nothing more than a farce unrelated to him, or perhaps a slightly complex ink painting—seen by the eye, but never entering his heart.

It was Chu Changsheng.

His appearance was not accompanied by any visions of heaven and earth, nor did any mighty pressure radiate outward.

But when that indifferent gaze swept over every inch of the Demon Burial Plain—

A sudden change occurred!

The low-level Yao Beasts charging madly below, the high-level Yao Generals engaged in slaughter with Cultivators in the air, and even the auras of those Void Immortal Yao Venerables lurking in the clouds behind the Yao Race army, resonating faintly with the Laws of heaven and earth—all of them froze instantly the moment that gaze swept past!

It was as if they had been struck by the most tyrannical immobilization spell; even the trembling of their Divine Souls came to an abrupt halt, and the Spiritual Qi around them froze in place, motionless.

A palpitation and bone-chilling cold, originating from the deepest depths of life's instinct, swept silently across the entire Demon Burial Plain like a tide.

From the weakest ant-like Yao to the heaven-shaking Void Immortal Yao Venerables, all felt an overwhelming terror in this coldness—as if their life and death were merely a choice made by the other party in the blink of an eye, and they did not even possess the qualification to resist.

Chu Changsheng parted his lips.

His voice was not loud, yet it seemed to carry the might of heaven and earth, piercing through all the clamor and barriers, clearly entering the ears of every living being on the battlefield.

It was so calm, devoid of any worldly aura, like a whisper while strolling in a leisurely garden:

"The Karma here began because of me, so it should naturally be ended by me!"

His gaze flowed slowly, first landing on the towering, blood-stained, age-scarred walls of Yuyao Pass, and then sweeping gently over the boundless Yao Race army below that was still frozen. His gaze was indifferent, as if looking at a group of noisy, annoying ants.

"The Yao Race?"

He tilted his head slightly, a trace of faint doubt crossing his brows, as if confirming a trivial matter.

Then, his thin lips parted slightly, and he spat out two words nonchalantly:

"A bit noisy."

The moment his voice fell, the world became so quiet that a falling needle could be heard.

There were no earth-shattering fluctuations of magic power, no dazzling flashes of Divine Ability, and not even a single ripple of Spiritual Qi rose around Chu Changsheng.

Only an invisible force, with the bronze carriage as the center, suddenly swept toward the surroundings—covering a radius of a hundred miles!

Within these hundred miles, all the Yao Race that had just been roaring, charging, casting spells, and fighting—from the weakest, vulnerable cannon-fodder Yao Beasts, to the fierce Yao Kings leading their tribes, and even those Yao Marshals who had already condensed their Yao Cores and possessed powerful Divine Abilities—all their actions were completely frozen at this moment.

Their roars were stuck in their throats, their sharp claws paused in mid-air, the venomous fire they spat hung before them, and their brandished weapons stiffened in mid-swing—even the madness and fear in their eyes became an eternal freeze, like lifeless sculptures.

The next instant—

It was as if dust had been gently wiped away by an invisible giant hand, or as if they had never existed in this world at all.

Within a hundred miles, hundreds of thousands of the Yao Race, regardless of their form or size, regardless of their cultivation level, along with the Divine Abilities they had unleashed, the venomous fire they spat, their brandished claws, their hard shells, and even the scales and bone spurs on their bodies...

At the same time, silently, they turned into the finest dust filling the sky, drifting away with the wind and dissipating between heaven and earth.

There was no earth-shattering explosion, no shrill screams—not even a drop of blood or a piece of a corpse remained.

They just disappeared into thin air like that.

It was as if this hundred-mile airspace had never seen the mad charge of hundreds of thousands of the Yao Race.

Only the places where they had stood, flown, or fought became empty, terrifyingly clean.

It formed a contrast of extreme starkness with the bloody, chaotic, corpse-piled battlefield around it—making one's heart tremble.

A cool breeze blew slowly over that suddenly emptied hundred-mile airspace, kicking up fine dust from the ground, carrying the thick smell of blood drifting from afar, and brushing over the empty world—it actually brought with it a biting desolation.

The entire Demon Burial Plain fell into a deathly silence.

On the city walls, the surviving Human Race garrison stood frozen in place, their weapons hanging weakly from their hands. They stared wide-eyed at that empty hundred-mile expanse—their minds blank, even forgetting how to breathe.

They had fought with blood and sweat, risking their lives, losing several people just to barely kill one or two Yao Beasts.

Yet, this white-clothed figure before them had caused hundreds of thousands of the Yao Race to vanish into ashes with just a nonchalant "A bit noisy"?

Such power had long since surpassed all their understanding of "strength."

In the distant Yao Race army, those Yao Beasts that had not been affected were already scared out of their wits.

The madness and brutality from just moments ago had vanished, leaving only a fear that penetrated to the bone marrow.

Some were shivering, their limbs weak; others actually prostrated themselves on the ground, not even having the courage to lift their heads.

That white-clothed figure, whiter than snow, had already become the most terrifying nightmare in the depths of their Souls—etched into their bone marrow, unforgettable for eternity.

In the clouds behind the Yao Race army, the auras of those few Void Immortal Yao Venerables fluctuated violently, carrying extreme shock and fear.

They wanted to flee, but discovered that their Divine Souls and bodies were locked tightly by an invisible force—unable to move even a fraction.

They could only stare fixedly at that white-clothed figure in the ten-thousand-foot-high sky in endless fear, not even daring to let a thought of resistance rise.

In the great hall at the top of the Demon-Suppressing Tower, several Human Race experts slowly collapsed into their seats, their faces full of disbelief, their lips trembling, unable to utter a single word.

A single strike?

No—this didn't even count as a strike.

It was merely a thought, a whisper, that turned the hundred-mile Yao army into flying ash.

This power had long surpassed all their understanding of cultivation.

This was the true might of a Void Immortal, or even... more!

This was the power belonging to the Dominator of heaven and earth—turning hands to create clouds, covering hands to create rain, controlling life and death, and spanning eternity with a single thought.

Chu Changsheng seemed to have only done an insignificant trifle, raising his hand to gently brush away a speck of dust before him.

His gaze did not even linger for a second on that empty hundred-mile airspace.

He turned slowly toward the blood-stained, ten-thousand-year-old walls of Yuyao Pass.

His calm voice rang out again, yet it carried an undeniable, irresistible, absolute meaning, resounding through heaven and earth, shaking the void slightly:

"This pass shall be guarded by me, Chu Changsheng, for the time being."

His gaze slowly swept over the shivering Yao Race army below, and over the auras of those Void Immortal Yao Venerables lurking in the clouds, not daring to move.

His voice remained calm, yet it carried a bone-chilling coldness—every word was enunciated clearly, each word like a knife, carved into the Divine Soul of every Yao Race member:

"You Yao Race, if you wish to take one more step—"

His voice paused slightly.

The corners of his mouth seemed to hook into a faint, shallow arc.

This arc, in the eyes of all living beings, was colder and more intimidating than the sharpest weapon in the world—carrying a disdain and dominance that looked down upon the world.

"Then use your lives to fill it."

As these four words fell, it was like a thunderclap from the Nine Heavens exploding over the Demon Burial Plain—shaking the void into layers of ripples, stirring up gale winds, and also causing the Divine Souls of all the Yao Race to crack inch by inch, shattering their courage.

The wind blew silently across the blood-stained, empty battlefield, rolling up broken armor and ashes, spinning on the hundred-mile scorched earth—yet it could not blow away the deathly silence that hung in the world.

The scene of millions of the Yao Race being annihilated in an instant was like a red-hot branding iron, searing deeply into the innermost depths of every witness's mind, leaving an indelible mark for eternity.

Fear was like a deep, cold pool, shock was like a thunderclap exploding in the heart, and bewilderment was like thick fog locking the Soul—all kinds of emotions churned and collided wildly in the hearts of the Human Race Cultivators and the remnants of the Yao Race, finally condensing into a stiff gaze, fixed tightly on the solitary white-clothed figure high in the sky.

Countless questions exploded in the sea of Souls of the living, making their Divine Souls buzz:

Who is he?

Did he come from beyond the Nine Heavens, or from the ancient abyss?

What kind of heaven-defying Realm is it that can wipe out ten thousand Yao with a wave of the hand, almost touching the Origin of the Law?

Everything was silent; between heaven and earth, there was only the faint sound of wind rolling through the residual dust.

The minds of all living beings were swaying, and they did not even dare to breathe too heavily.

Just at this moment—

An indescribable, vast aura, with Chu Changsheng as the center, like ripples on an ancient well, slowly spread in all directions.

This aura had no violent or malevolent energy, yet it was as deep as the Nine Nether cold abyss, and as lofty as the Nine Heavens—carrying an indifference that transcended all spirits, and a vastness that looked down upon all living beings.

It swept silently past the mottled city walls, brushed past every Human Race Cultivator and soldier who had been fighting in blood, ragged and exhausted—brushed past their bleeding wounds, brushed past their dim eyes.

In an instant—

A resonance originating from the deepest depths of their Bloodline, faint yet clear, like a new sprout breaking through the soil, quietly emerged in the heart of every member of the Human Race.