519: Chapter 519 The Fist Is Strike

The fist strikes.

Heaven and Earth fall into silence.

A dark golden fist radiance bloomed from the fist of Lord Jixing—at first, it was merely a blinding speck of light, but it instantly tore through the Void Realm, transforming into a roaring Dragon of light!

Its Dragon body coiled around the galaxy, each scale forged from shattered Dao principles, churning and stirring ripples in the long river of time!

It opened its massive maw—this was not a physical mouth, but a collapse of rules, a counter-current of Karma, the very Void Realm itself, capable of devouring stars and erasing Reincarnation!

Beneath that massive maw, the figure of Lu Changzhi was as minuscule as dust.

He raised his sword.

This grey longsword, which had accompanied him through the ages and struck down countless powerful enemies, let out a mournful cry like tearing silk!

Every crack on the sword—those scars that had never completely shattered despite all the calamities they had endured—lit up in that instant, like the final, rapid heartbeat of a dying man!

Grey-white Sword Qi burst forth from the depths of the cracks, re-wrapping the sword body—yet it was not the offensive stance of the past that could sever galaxies and destroy all laws.

It was a curling up.

An embrace.

A determination to exhaust its last bit of spirituality and burn itself into ashes.

The Sword Qi rose, transforming into a barrier as thin as a cicada's wing, yet condensed with his lifelong Sword Intent and his entire existence, blocking in front of its Revered Master.

The sword was trembling.

Not out of fear.

But as a farewell.

At the cost of burning its remaining Soul to ashes, it built a defensive line for the Sword Master one last time.

The sword light and the fist radiance collided.

There was no sound—or rather, all sound was swallowed by a more primal destruction the moment they made contact.

The Void Realm was like a crumpled piece of paper; its textures snapped, its dimensions collapsed, revealing the pitch-black and cold "Nothingness" behind it.

Pure energy was released in the annihilation, transforming into a pale sun that swallowed light—expanding! Exploding!

Lu Changzhi's figure was sent flying back from the core of that destruction like a kite with a broken string, streaking across fragmented cracks in the Void Realm.

The grey longsword in his hand slipped from his grasp.

It tumbled and spun powerlessly in the air.

The sword body peeled and shattered piece by piece as it spun—the mournful cry of metal intertwined with the whimpering of dissolving spirituality, as if performing a long and painful dance of death.

In the end, it slanted and embedded itself into a floating fragment of rock in the Void Realm hundreds of feet away.

Only half remained.

The broken sword trembled slightly, and a faint, sobbing murmur seemed to emanate from the hilt—stubbornly pointing in the direction where its Revered Master had fallen.

Lu Changzhi's body smashed through the giant boulders floating along the way.

Those indestructible stellar remains shattered one after another before his transparent body like rotten wood.

Finally, he slammed heavily onto the Inheritance Plaza, which had long since collapsed and was reduced to ruins.

The earth groaned.

Dust rose like waves, then slowly settled, revealing a deep pit whose edges were still cracking and spreading.

He lay at the bottom of the pit.

His body was almost completely transparent, with only a faint outline remaining—like a phantom that could be blown away by a gust of wind.

At his chest, that grey-white halo symbolizing his final life and obsession was as weak as a candle in the wind.

Only those eyes—those grey eyes that had settled with the loneliness and persistence of ages—still moved stubbornly and slowly, looking toward the sky obscured by dust and turbulent energy.

Footsteps descended from the Void Realm.

Lord Jixing walked down slowly, his toes stepping on the shattered Dao principles as if walking on flat ground.

He landed on the edge of the deep pit, his figure stretched and distorted by the chaotic light and shadow behind him.

He lowered his eyes, looking down at the trace at the bottom of the pit that was about to dissipate—there was neither sorrow nor joy in his black eyes, only a suffocating depth.

Lord Zangxing followed closely behind, his dark red pupils flashing with undisguised pleasure and cruelty, like a bird of prey watching its dying prey.

"Sword Lord Lu."

Lord Jixing's voice came from above, as flat as if he were stating the weather—yet it carried a chill that could freeze all things.

"Do you think, why did I come in person?"

Lu Changzhi did not answer.

He could barely move; all his will and remaining strength were focused on suppressing the balance within his body that was on the verge of collapse.

Deep within his grey eyes, a glimmer of light was struggling to pulse and condense—that was the final strike he had buried at the end of Reincarnation, exchanged at the cost of eternal dissipation.

It was not yet time.

He must wait for... that one and only opportunity.

"You think we only came to kill you?"

Lord Jixing shook his head gently, as if correcting a child's naive misconception, "To kill the current you, Lord Zangxing alone would suffice. In fact... we don't even need to do anything; you are already on the verge of annihilation."

He paused, his tone deepening—every word was like a heavy hammer striking this dead ruin:

"I came here to ensure—that The Sword Lineage, from its orthodoxy to its Legacy, from the past to the future, from you, Lu Changzhi, to the last trace related to this era..."

"Is completely erased from the root."

As his voice fell, he actually crouched down.

The hem of his black, magnificent robes draped over the edge of the pit, blending with the dust.

He looked directly into those grey eyes at the bottom of the pit—so close that he could see his own cold reflection in the other's pupils.

Finally, in those bottomless pitch-black eyes, a trace of emotion emerged slowly, like a venomous snake emerging from its hole—

It was not anger, nor was it hatred.

But a kind of near-elegant satisfaction, the satisfaction of a hunter watching its prey take its final breath.

A cruel pleasure in seeing through everything, manipulating fate, and offering this cruel truth as a final gift.

"Oh, right, Sword Lord Lu."

His voice suddenly dropped extremely low, as light as a whisper—yet it was a hundred times more piercing than his previous declaration.

This whisper pierced through the howling turbulent energy above the ruins, precisely and unrefusably drilling into Lu Changzhi's consciousness, which was on the verge of scattering.

Like a malicious secret buried for ages, it had finally found the most suitable listener.

"There is one thing I forgot to tell you."

The corners of Lord Jixing's mouth curved upward extremely slowly into a subtle, cold arc.

"That Revered Master of yours—"

He paused deliberately, enjoying the sudden constriction of the grey light in the other's eyes.

"The Divine Lord of the Changsheng Divine Realm—Chen Changsheng, also died by my hand."

The moment the three words "Chen Changsheng" were spoken—

Time seemed to have its throat gripped by an invisible hand.

In the Void Realm, the raging energy, the flying dust, the pleasure dancing in Lord Zangxing's eyes, and even the subtle cracking sounds of the ruins themselves... everything suddenly fell silent.

It was not a suppression of power.

But something more essential... had shattered.

At the bottom of the pit, Lu Changzhi's body, transparent as mist, suddenly shuddered.

Those grey eyes, which had been calm for ages, boiled the moment they heard those four words.

The grey faded away, replaced by a blood-red that was pure to the extreme.

This was not the fiery red of anger, nor the dark red of hatred—but the most primal, most violent, and most resolute killing intent remaining after the vast starry sky shattered, the endless sea of blood churned, and all Karma and rationality were burned to ashes—

Substantial scarlet aura erupted from his nearly dissipated body!

The gravel and dust at the edge of the deep pit turned silently into the finest particles of nothingness the moment this pure killing intent swept past—the process of annihilation was even skipped.

The cruel pleasure on Lord Jixing's face froze instantly.

It was not that fear had descended—but the instinctual alertness of a Peak expert toward danger.

His pupils constricted slightly, his body retreating half a step before his consciousness—his black eyes locked tightly onto the blood-red mass suddenly boiling at the bottom of the pit.

He saw—the grey-white halo on Lu Changzhi's chest, which had already dimmed, was now like the final flare of a dying star, erupting with a completely different, heart-palpitating power—

This was obsession.

It was the only rope supporting a wisp of a remnant Soul to break free from the shackles of Reincarnation and crawl back to the present world against the long river of time.

It was a questioning that could not be erased even by the silence of the ages, branded deep within the Soul.

"You..."

A hoarse voice, like rusty iron rubbing together, squeezed out bit by bit from the depths of Lu Changzhi's throat—each syllable carried the trembling sound of a Soul shattering, yet it was heavy enough to crush mountains.

"Say... what..."

Lord Jixing straightened his body slowly and left the edge of the pit completely.

He watched as Lu Changzhi stood up from the center of the shattered pit in a counter-intuitive posture, bit by bit, slowly yet incredibly firmly.

On this transparent body that should have dissipated, the dark red cracks of the dao-burying halberd twisted and struggled like living things—yet they were forcibly pried open and torn apart by a more brutal, more desperate power.

Grey-white light liquid seeped from the gaps of his tightly clenched fist and dripped into the Void Realm—each drop burned out a small vortex of annihilation.

In the distance, the half-broken grey sword stuck in the rock fragment erupted with hysterical humming!

The sword body shook frantically, attempting to break free from its shackles and fly back into its Revered Master's hand—to complete one last stand together.

But Lu Changzhi did not look at it.

He did not even look at Lord Jixing.

He merely raised his right hand.

This hand was already nearly transparent, only barely outlining the shape of a fist with a few wisps of scarlet killing intent and grey-white Soul light.

His five fingers slowly closed—clenched into a fist.

He grasped that boiling, burning, blood-colored obsession capable of incinerating himself and everything before him.

Lord Jixing's gaze fell upon that slowly clenching Void Realm fist—at the bottom of his pitch-black eyes, a faint ripple finally passed, one he hadn't even noticed himself.

He spoke, his voice returning to its initial flatness—yet it struck a cold echo upon this dead ruin:

"I said, the Divine Lord of Changsheng, died by my hand."

After a slight pause, as if stating a long-past historical fact, his words were clear and resonant:

"Do you actually think that during the final war that swept across the heavens ages ago, he truly fought against the masses and died from exhaustion? Or was he surrounded and chose to die heroically?"

"No."

Lord Jixing shook his head—each word chiseled deep into the depths of Lu Changzhi's blood-red eyes:

"It was at the moment his Dao source was damaged and cracks appeared in his Reincarnation Heart Seal—"

"It was I who tore through the barriers of time and appeared behind him."

"With one punch, I pierced through his back."

"The fist tip penetrated his body—his Reincarnation Heart Seal shattered on the spot."

He tilted his head slightly, as if recalling—the arc at the corner of his mouth became increasingly deep and cold:

"A supreme expert who once suppressed the primordial ages and overlooked ten thousand eras, fell just like that."

"And the look in his eyes when he looked back one last time..."

Lord Jixing's gaze fell back upon Lu Changzhi, carrying a hint of near-appreciative cruelty.

"Is exactly the same as yours right now."

Boom—!!!

Inside Lu Changzhi, the string named "Reason" snapped completely!

The blood flames around him shot into the sky, transforming into a blood-colored pillar of light connecting the ruins and the Void Realm!

His transparent body trembled violently in the pillar of light—not from weakness, but the wailing and roaring of a Soul that had exceeded its limit of endurance after anger and sorrow reached their extreme!

The mournful cry of the half-broken sword reached its Peak, finally breaking free from the rock fragment with a "clang," transforming into a shrill grey ray of light, shooting toward its Revered Master.

But Lu Changzhi still did not take the sword.

He simply maintained the posture of his right fist clenched in the air, and slowly, extremely slowly, raised his head.

Those eyes, which had completely turned into pools of blood, locked tightly onto Lord Jixing.

Deep in the bottom of his eyes, the last glimmer belonging to "Lu Changzhi" was completely extinguished.

Replacing it was the karmic fire that burned everything, the madness of mutual destruction, the silence-destroying killing intent that had settled for ages and was only waiting to erupt at this moment...

"You are... courting death."

He spoke—his voice was no longer hoarse, but a mixture of metal shattering and all things wailing, echoing over the dead ruins.

The fist, clenched tight.

In the Void Realm, endless blood-colored Dao principles gathered from all directions, wrapping around his transparent fist tip!