448: Chapter 448 Ancestral Sin Graveyard

Those vicious, knife-like words, those cold, tangible gazes filled with killing intent, seemed to him like nothing more than phantoms passing through an insignificant shadow.

Or perhaps they were just meaningless, noisy winds blowing from an extremely distant and irrelevant place.

He simply took one step, then another, using that broken body—which seemed ready to disintegrate completely at any moment and was held together only by a single strand of invisible obsession—to move forward with difficulty, slowly, yet with extraordinary stubbornness, toward the direction of that blurry, temporary ladder that did not belong to him.

The rugged, uneven gravel beneath his feet pressed sharply into his bare soles, which were covered in old and new scars.

These scars were layered one upon another; some had scabbed over, some were still oozing blood, and some had long since festered—they were the marks left behind from countless times of falling, crawling up, and falling again during the years of exile in that dead, silent land of the Graveyard of Ancestral Sins.

Every step he lifted and set down felt incredibly heavy. It was as if a weight of a thousand jun was pressing down on his shoulders, pressing down on his already hunched spine.

Had this spine ever been straight? Had it ever carried anything? No one knew. Perhaps even he himself had already forgotten.

Every shallow, damp footprint was imprinted on the cold dust. Was this dampness blood, sweat, or something else? Perhaps it was all of them, perhaps it was none.

In a place like the Graveyard of Ancestral Sins, mere survival was a luxury; who would care what they were stepping on?

It wound its way forward, extending toward the area enveloped by the cold and magnificent Dao light of the Cyan Heavenly Ladder.

This light was very far away. So far that it seemed separated by the ends of the earth, by ten thousand mountains and rivers, by the distance between life and death.

Yet his footsteps were still moving forward. One step. Another step. And another. Neither fast nor slow. He did not pause because of insults, nor did he retreat because of threats. He simply moved forward, one step at a time.

Inside that broken body, it seemed as if only this one thing remained: —Forward. —Walk into that light. —As for why, it no longer mattered.

Perhaps there was once a very important reason. Perhaps that reason was the only obsession that sustained him until now. But during those long, dark, and lonely years in the Graveyard of Ancestral Sins, that reason had gradually blurred and faded, leaving behind only an instinctive action: Walk. Keep walking forward.

No matter what lay ahead. Even if it was death, nothingness, or even greater despair. He had to keep walking. Because he had nothing left to lose. Because to stop meant admitting to all of this—admitting that those insults were correct, admitting that he truly was trash, admitting that he truly should not be alive.

No. No. No— Deep within this broken shell, something, like a long-extinguished heart, suddenly beat once, weakly and almost imperceptibly.

Then, his footsteps still did not stop. One step. Another step. And another. Toward that light. Toward that place which perhaps did not belong to him at all. —Forward. —Even if it meant death, he would die on the road.

"You—seek—death—!!" The words burst from between the teeth of the single-horned Demon Race Prodigy, scorched hoarse and distorted by rage, every syllable like a sharp blade tearing through his throat.

The curved, ink-black horn on his forehead suddenly ignited with gloomy Devilish Qi patterns, like a cursed brand crawled out from the depths of Hell. The black Qi around his body rolled skyward like boiling abyss flames, scorching the air within several zhang into fine ripples, causing the heavens and earth to change color.

A "piece of trash" with an aura as weak as a flickering candle and clothes as ragged as dust, actually dared to ignore him completely in this gathering of Prodigies from the myriad worlds, under countless gazes that felt like needles on his back—this was simply trampling his hard-won reputation and his pride as a Demon Race Prodigy deep into the filthy mire, never to rise again!

"Die for this Venerable One—!!!" A sharp shriek tore through the air!

The hard ground beneath his feet burst into spiderweb-like cracks in response, and gravel flew out like crossbow bolts. His figure instantly blurred, leaving behind only a circle of exploding shockwaves, as if space itself had been shaken by the force of that stomp.

In the next instant, a pitch-black demonic shadow, wrapped in thick bloodthirst and the aura of pure destruction, like a fierce spirit breaking free from the lowest level of the Nine Serenities, tore through the sky, dragging behind it a shrill, piercing sonic boom trail!

This sound was like the wailing of ten thousand wronged Souls, making one's Divine Soul tremble. Where the demonic shadow passed, light seemed to be snuffed out by an invisible hand, leaving behind a terrifying trail of pure darkness—it was a despairing abyss from which even light could not escape.

The five fingers of the outstretched right hand stretched and curled strangely, the nails instantly growing to half a foot, turning into five claws of Soul-reaping that flowed with black light and were entwined with hissing, corrosive Devilish Qi, ruthlessly digging toward Wufa's defenseless, gaunt back!

This blow was not only meant to crush the heart and pierce the body, but also to tear his fragile Divine Soul out from his shell, burning it into nothingness while it wailed in the demonic flames—he wanted to erase the existence of this "stain" in the most cruel and thorough way, using blood and Soul Flying Away and Spirit Scattering to wash away this bone-deep humiliation, and at the beginning of this cruel contest for fortune, announce to the heavens the inviolable majesty of the Demon Race!

Faster than lightning! Ruthless and vicious! No room for maneuver! The angry blow of a Deity Transformation Realm Demon Race Prodigy had the power to collapse mountains, boil seas, overturn rivers, and topple mountains.

Amidst countless cold, playful, or indifferent gazes, the fate of the boy in hempen clothes seemed to be set—the next moment would be the final chapter of flesh turning to mud, Divine Soul destroyed, and blood splattered on the dust.

Some beings already had cruel arcs curling at the corners of their mouths, as if savoring this bloody intermission in advance; more gazes were cold and indifferent. In this jungle of the strong preying on the weak, what was the annihilation of an ant worth mentioning? It was merely a speck of dust before the start of the feast.

The cold tentacles of death had already touched the fibers of Wufa's ragged hempen clothes. He could even feel the stinging pain of that corrosive Devilish Qi burning his skin, and could smell the decaying scent of death as it approached.

However—just at the critical moment when the hissing, corrosive energy was about to burn through the coarse cloth, and the pitch-black, sharp claw tips had already pierced the thin skin on the boy's back, with a drop of crimson about to burst forth!

"Zheng—!!!" A sword hum exploded without any warning!

This sword hum was not a sound wave spreading outward, but rather it "burst" out with immense condensation and abruptness from the void less than three feet beside Wufa!

It did not resemble the clash of metal, but rather a cleansing thunderbolt striking down from beyond the Nine Heavens, carrying a biting will to sever all Chaos, piercing straight into this space; it also felt like a supreme Dao sword sleeping at the end of time, emitting its first clear tremor of awakening in a silence known to no one!

There was no dazzling sword light tearing the firmament, no majestic Sword Qi sweeping across the six directions. There was only this "sound"! A "sound" condensed like a solid entity, pure enough to sever all falsity!

Within this sound, there was a supreme Sword Intent that cleansed all filth, severed all evil, and broke through thousands of illusions! Deeper within, it also hid a trace of a protective heart that, though unspoken, was as unmoving as a mountain and as eternal as the galaxy!

The sound itself seemed to be condensed from billions of invisible sword edges; wherever it passed, even the air was "cut" to be incredibly sharp, stinging the Divine Soul perception of all beings within a hundred zhang. Those with slightly weaker cultivation only felt their glabella being pricked by needles, with a tremor transmitted from the depths of their Souls.

"Puff—!" The rushing single-horned Demon Race Prodigy felt as if he had crashed head-on into an ancient divine mountain condensed from endless Sword Intent! This overwhelming, unstoppable, and incomparably sharp force struck with extreme precision at the very core of his claw strike—the point where his Qi was most condensed, his "dead spot"!

"Ugh—!!" A muffled groan mixed with pain and horror squeezed out from the depths of his throat, the sound like a beast with its throat being choked. The ferocious killing intent on his face instantly froze, turning instead into a distortion of disbelief.

The Soul-reaping claw, entwined with chilling Devilish Qi, saw its boiling black Qi vanish like residual snow thrown into the core of the blazing sun, emitting "hissing" wails, collapsing and melting in an instant, turning into wisps of black smoke that dissipated into nothingness.

The fierce, unstoppable momentum of the claw strike was forcibly blocked in mid-air by an invisible barrier, unable to advance even an inch; the boiling demonic flames that had been surging to the sky around his body swayed violently, flickering uncertainly, as if swept by an extremely cold Sword Intent originating from the ancient past, nearly extinguishing completely!

A sharp, cold, and "piercing" Sword Intent that reached directly to the source of his Divine Soul rolled back along the path of his attack, brutally rushing into his Meridians and stabbing fiercely at the core of his demonic Soul!

"Thump! Thump! Thump!" Completely unable to control his body, he stumbled backward three large steps in succession! Every step he took left a deeply sunken footprint on the hard ground, which had been reinforced by Formations, with edges covered in radial cracks! Deep within the footprints, fine cracks even spread outward like spiderwebs.

The Qi and blood in his chest felt as if they were being pounded by a giant hammer, churning like a stormy sea, and a strong, fishy sweetness surged up his throat. The circulation of his demonic energy suddenly became sluggish and difficult. The monstrous, fierce aura he had just displayed had been utterly crushed and defeated by this seemingly casual sword hum!

He lifted his head abruptly, his pair of demonic eyes, bloodshot from shock, rage, and surging blood, scanning the surroundings in a panic and with ferocity—finally, his gaze, like a red-hot iron nail, was nailed firmly in one direction.

Not far away, Xuanyuan Zhanxian, dressed in dark-colored martial attire with a posture as upright as a solitary peak, had turned slightly at some unknown time. One of his hands rested casually on the hilt of the Taiji sword embryo on his back; his posture was relaxed, yet he possessed an inherent steadiness, like a deep pool or a towering mountain, as if he would not change his expression even if the mountains collapsed before him.

His expression was as calm as water, without a ripple, only a pair of eyes as deep as the vast night sky were now glancing lightly in this direction. His gaze was so calm it was almost indifferent, yet it seemed to contain a faint light capable of piercing through falsity and seeing everything, making one dare not look directly at it.

The terrifying sword hum that had just saved a life by a hair's breadth and broken the killing trap invisibly was exactly what had "flowed" out naturally from his fingers that were lightly resting on the sword hilt, like a stream flowing over blue stones. Without drawing his sword, without moving his body, merely by tapping the sword hilt with his finger and condensing a wisp of Sword Intent into sound, he had already repelled a strong enemy and set the outcome!

In an instant, the area centered on the boy in hempen clothes and Xuanyuan Zhanxian fell into a strange, absolute silence.