402: Chapter 402 The Sky Cracked

Just as the auras of the three Prodigy aliens climbed to the Peak of destruction, their killing intent condensing into substance, about to transform into a storm that would crush everything, even causing the space itself to groan under the unbearable weight and teeter on the verge of total collapse—

"Rumble—!!!"

The sky cracked open.

This was not the lightning of the mortal world, but the single eye of the Heavenly Dao, glaring in rage!

A roar that seemed to have been buried since the beginning of Chaos and the explosion of the Grandmist smashed fiercely from beyond the Nine Heavens, from the ends of time and space, into this Secret Realm!

A silver-gold bolt of lightning that tore through perception—it had already transcended mundane descriptions like "thick" or "huge"—

It was more like an ancient Dragon of lightning struggling free from a mythic epic, carrying an aura of pure-yang destruction that caused all Laws to wither and the Dao to mourn, tearing a bleeding wound into the firmament of the Secret Realm with the most barbaric and unquestionable posture!

It fell—not striking, but delivering judgment!

Precise as if locked on by the will of heaven, cold as a sentence passed by fate, and so overbearing that it made all rules retreat!

It struck squarely and unhesitatingly at the heart of the battlefield, carving out a chasm of death that spanned the heavens and the earth, flowing with magma and plasma, right between Luo Xiaojiu and her companions and the three Prodigy aliens!

The chasm was bottomless, its edges not scorched black, but exhibiting a bizarre luster from being vitrified by extreme energy, hissing as it steamed with an aura of destruction.

In the instant the lightning exploded, the world lost its sound, and then its sight. First came an absolute, pure white that swallowed everything, as if even the very concept of "color" had been evaporated.

Immediately following was the delayed, ring-shaped shockwave that seemed capable of overturning continental plates!

With the lightning's impact point as the core, it expanded violently in a perfectly circular shape. Wherever it passed, the earth did not just collapse; it peeled away layer by layer, decomposed, and finally dissipated into the most fundamental particles.

In the distance, those towering phantom mountains that served as mere background scenery could not even let out a whimper before they silently annihilated into the finest dust, like sandcastles.

There was no smoke, no lingering echoes after the deafening roar.

Because the extreme heat and violent ionization had already strangled every possible subsequent reaction in the cradle.

The air was left only with the dead silence of scorching, and the scent of ozone and elemental ash, thick enough to make one's Soul tremble.

The residual, rampaging lightning elements were no longer just energy; they had become wild beasts possessing life and fury.

They transformed into countless tiny, mad dragons of purple lightning, brutally smashing, tearing, and devouring the Law force-fields that the three Prodigy aliens had painstakingly condensed, forcibly cutting off their combined strike—a strike capable of deciding the fate of the world and extinguishing all life—just a moment before it could erupt!

The backlash was immediate!

The Silver-Glow Woman's moon-radiance shield, which was cool, bright, and seemed capable of isolating all Laws, was like crystal struck by a heavy hammer; it was instantly covered in spiderweb-like cracks, its light flickering violently.

Her delicate body trembled violently, her face turned deathly pale, and she staggered backward, shattering the Void Realm with every step and leaving behind fragmented traces of moonlight.

The Red-Gold Three-Eyed Being's most relied-upon vertical eye on his forehead—the red-gold beam that originally pierced through falsehoods and manifested slaughter—merely brushed against the side of the falling lightning bolt's residual power, and it shattered like fragile glass hitting divine iron, exploding into a sky full of tragically beautiful rain of light.

He seemed to have suffered a heavy blow, letting out a muffled grunt filled with irrepressible pain as he retreated three steps!

With each step he took, the ground beneath his feet—strengthened by the Secret Realm's rules and harder than divine iron—cracked into deep, radial fissures, as if the earth itself were groaning in pain beneath him.

And the Six-Winged Alien was the most miserable.

His already collapsed chest seemed to be hammered violently once more by an invisible heavy hammer of lightning, and his protective, evil black light was like snow encountering its nemesis, hissed and was completely cleansed away by the righteous Qi of the lightning.

He let out a shrill, inhuman scream, his entire body flying backward like a tattered kite with broken strings, spraying blood everywhere. The feathers on his wings, which had originally shimmered with a gloomy luster, were charred and fell off in large patches, igniting wisps of black smoke in the air.

The look in his eyes as he gazed toward the source of the lightning was completely occupied by the most primitive, instinctive fear—the fear of Heavenly might, of being crushed by absolute power.

The lightning gradually faded, but the residual power of destruction still flowed through the air like a tangible tide, emitting a low, dangerous "crackle," scorching every inch of space and the nerves of every living being present.

Right in the midst of these embers where death and searing heat intertwined, set against the backdrop of purple lightning still roaming like a dense electric net.

A figure slowly descended from the wound in the firmament torn open by the lightning, stepping on stairs formed from the Void Realm.

He wore a black battle robe, but the black was not static; upon it, ancient and vigorous dragon-shaped dark patterns were slowly swimming.

Every imperceptible twist seemed to pull at the ubiquitous Spiritual Qi of lightning in the surrounding heaven and earth, emitting a low and harmonious resonance.

His ink-black long hair danced wildly behind him, swirling with the violent lightning aura that had yet to dissipate. Far from looking disheveled, it only added a touch of unyielding arrogance and wildness to his cold majesty, as if he had torn through all shackles.

His face seemed to be crafted from the black ice of an eternal cold abyss, then sculpted and tempered for billions of years by the most violent lightning from above the Nine Heavens.

His sword-like eyebrows were like unsheathed blades, slanting upward toward his temples, carrying a sharpness that could sever everything.

And condensed between his brows was an unquestionable, absolute pride, deeply rooted in his Bloodline and tempered at the Peak of power.

This was not arrogance floating on the surface, but the calm naturally exuded by a strong person who has mastered themselves and overlooks the Laws.

Most Soul-stirring of all were his eyes. Deep as a black hole in the starry sky, when they opened and closed, there were no anomalous phenomena of brilliant light bursting forth like in ordinary Cultivators, only silver-gold lightning arcs, condensed to the extreme and turned into substance, flashing and vanishing in the deepest part of his pupils.

As his gaze swept across, the air seemed to be brutally "ironed out" by an invisible force of Law, emitting a subtle but Soul-piercing "crackle." Wherever his gaze fell, space itself stagnated and trembled.

He did not deliberately radiate pressure to intimidate anyone. Yet, as he stood there quietly, his body naturally exuded a mixed aura, as heavy as an ancient divine mountain carrying stars, and as violent as a Nine Heavens lightning pool birthing ten thousand thunders.

The terrifying field previously created by the combined efforts of the three Prodigy aliens, which was enough to break ordinary Prodigies, suddenly became small, cramped, and even somewhat ridiculous in the face of his presence.

He naturally became the absolute core and the sole order of this world; light bent and converged because of him, sound dissipated and fell silent because of him, and all things seemed to be slightly tilting and bowing toward the "point" where he stood.

However, what was most eye-catching, and what made the three Prodigy aliens feel trembling and oppression from the depths of their Souls, was his right arm, which hung casually by his side, seemingly without any defense.

This was not any light-and-shadow special effect conjured by a Spell or Divine Ability.

It was a real, purple-gold dragon-shaped electric arc, slowly winding and roaming as if it had a life of its own!

It seemed like a part of his body extending outward, yet also like an independent, slumbering lightning spirit.

Every imperceptible twist naturally radiated a power of lightning that breaks evil, pure enough to make one's heart palpitate. Moreover, there was a vast Dragon might that, though faint, was incomparably noble and ancient, as if originating from the era of the Primordial Ancestral Dragon, permeating the air in wisps.

This Dragon might formed an almost instinctive suppression on aliens, especially those whose Bloodlines contained evil and chaotic attributes, a suppression stemming from the level of life and the fundamental Laws!

"Controlling lightning... a True Dragon?!" the Silver-Glow Woman exclaimed, her voice lost. On her stunningly beautiful face, which was always cold and self-possessed, her composure was completely shattered. Her pupils contracted to the extreme, and her voice carried an uncontrollable, slight tremor that even she had not noticed.

"No... that's not right! This is absolutely not a pure True Dragon Bloodline! This is... this is a terrifying Dao realm where some peerless lightning Spell, supremely Yang and rigid, nearing the Dao, has been Cultivated to the point of complete fusion with his own life Origin and the true meaning of his Bloodline, indistinguishable from one another!"

"The Human Race... has the Luck and potential of the Human Race not been exhausted to this extent? How can it give birth to such a... monster!"

The vertical eye on the Red-Gold Three-Eyed Being's forehead, which claimed to be able to discern the Origin and deduce all Laws, was now widened to its limit. Inside, the ancient red-gold runes were spinning, combining, and deducing at an unprecedented speed, attempting to analyze the newcomer's Origins.

However, wherever he looked, he could only "see" the layer of naturally flowing, seamless Dao rhythm of lightning around the newcomer, which acted like the most perfect armor of Laws, mercilessly isolating and rebounding all attempts at prying!

His vertical eye sent waves of stinging pain from being scorched by the backlash of the overbearing lightning intent, and a wisp of pale gold blood containing Origin essence uncontrollably trickled down from the corner of his eye.

In his heart, it was no longer just stormy waves, but a tsunami of destruction sweeping through his Soul: "So overbearing! So pure!"

"Like a Dragon yet not a Dragon, like lightning yet not a Spell, integrated into one, nearing the Dao! This son... this son must absolutely not be left alive!"

"Otherwise, he will surely become a major threat to our race as we sweep across the heavens, an eternal enemy!"

The Six-Winged Alien struggled to steady his backward-flying figure with his tattered wings, his trembling hand wiping away the black blood containing Origin essence that kept overflowing from the corner of his mouth, his chest heaving violently like a broken bellows.

The look in his eyes as he gazed at Chu Zhanxiao was still heavy with malice and hatred, but now, it was more of a bone-deep fear stemming from having his level of life crushed and his survival directly threatened.

The lightning that had just separated the battlefield contained a will of destruction and judgment that far exceeded his cognitive limits. He was absolutely certain that if the newcomer had not intended to intimidate and separate rather than kill, he would not even have a wisp of his Soul left by now, having long since turned into the most basic lightning particles between heaven and earth.

Chu Zhanxiao's gaze finally swept over indifferently.

This gaze was cold.

Not the cold of winter, but the absolute cold of eternal black ice settled at the very bottom of the Universe's abyss, never melting throughout the ages.

There was no contempt in this gaze—because contempt requires an object, and he seemed not to regard the three Prodigy aliens before him as "objects" worthy of investing "emotions" into.

There was no anger in this gaze either—anger stems from caring, and he seemed completely indifferent to everything before him.

There was only an absolute calm, looking down from above, regarding all things as equal straw dogs.