641: Chapter 641 Second Draw

You let out a low shout, your hands gripping the empty air, and the six immortal slaying swords moved simultaneously.

Not a volley.

It was a convergence.

The six sword tips collided precisely at a single point, then began to rotate.

Hum.

Space wailed in agony.

Then, the point of collision collapsed inward—like a black hole, all matter, all energy, and all light were sucked into a point the size of a needle tip.

Absolute darkness.

No light, no sound, no space, no time.

Only a singularity.

And then—the singularity erupted.

A beam of light shot out from the darkness.

The beam was as thin as a needle, as thin as a strand of hair, as thin as a thread.

Condensed to the extreme.

Compressed to the extreme.

Destructive to the extreme.

Black, not the color black.

It was the opposite of light, the opposite of life, the opposite of existence.

The singularity beam erupted from the darkness, thin as a hair, stabbing straight into that sea of stars.

Wherever the beam passed, space shattered like a mirror. It dissipated piece by piece, revealing the pitch-black Void Realm.

Cracks spread behind the beam like a spiderweb, lingering for a long time.

This time, there was no melting away.

It was a collision of two forces.

The black beam pierced into the sea of stars, like a needle stabbing into an all-encompassing net.

The star sea was devouring the black beam.

The black beam was tearing apart the star sea.

The two forces stalemated in mid-air, neither retreating, neither yielding.

Heaven and earth began to tremble, and the aftermath raged and spread, rippling out from all directions like an invisible shockwave.

The Void Realm for millions of miles was like paper crumpled by someone, folding over and over.

The stars were trembling.

Space was wailing.

On the teleportation plaza of Sanyuan Star, the ground cracked open with one bottomless fissure after another.

Buildings were shaking, spirit boats were falling, and the Cultivators could not even stand steady.

Someone shouted, "The protective array! Quickly activate the protective array!"

But before the protective array could even light up, it shattered.

Xuanyuan Ziyan's face was deathly pale.

She looked at the sea of stars and the black beam in the firmament, her lips trembling.

Not because of fear.

It was because she knew—if it were her, she would already be dead, and not even a scrap of her would be left.

The first move, she could still understand.

The second move, she couldn't even comprehend.

"When he fought me... just how much did he hold back?" she muttered to herself, her voice hoarse.

No one answered her.

Even if she were foolish, she could see now that when you dueled her, you had gone easy on her.

You had gone easy on her by an ocean's worth.

Liu Tianxing's expression changed completely.

He had originally thought you were just a lucky Loose Cultivator.

Now he understood—you had come specifically for their Liu Clan Immortal Family, and for the Heavenly Palace.

Elder Qi remained silent, his hands trembling.

He finally understood—when you fought him back then, you hadn't used your full strength at all, and you hadn't intended to kill him from the start.

If you had used this move back then... He didn't dare to think further.

Qin Yu stood in place, her eyes reddening.

Not out of fear.

It was out of heartache.

She saw that your hands were trembling.

She saw blood seeping from the corners of your mouth.

She saw that your face was as pale as paper.

She knew you carried too much, endured too much.

But she didn't move.

She didn't shout.

She knew—she couldn't cause trouble for you.

Qin Han bared its teeth, body leaning slightly forward, like a beast ready to pounce at any moment.

Its eyes were not watching Liu Xuerong.

What it was watching, was you.

It was waiting for you—waiting for the moment you couldn't hold on, to rush up.

It hated itself; it wished it could grow up immediately, wished it could become stronger, wished it could fight side by side with you right now.

But it couldn't; although it possessed the power of rules, it still didn't know how to fully unleash its own strength.

The power of rules is different from the Power of the Great Dao.

The Power of the Great Dao does not belong to any one person; even you, even a Mahayana Cultivator, are merely invoking it.

But the power of rules is its own inherent strength—even if the Dao of this world did not exist and cultivation were impossible, its power of rules would still exist.

It's just that the strength of this power is closely linked to its own Realm.

If the gap in strength is too great, the power of rules cannot overcome the opponent either.

Unless—the Dao operates according to its rules.

But it currently did not have that strength.

Everyone looked at the firmament; some clenched their fists, some had sweat on their foreheads, some were dumbstruck.

Above the firmament.

The black beam and the sea of stars were still in a stalemate.

Neither could overwhelm the other.

But both forces were weakening—like two giant beasts, biting each other's throats, bleeding together, exhausting themselves together.

You also felt your strength being drained away.

The Dao Patterns on the six immortal slaying swords were becoming increasingly scattered, as if they might collapse at any moment.

Liu Xuerong's expression was no longer relaxed.

The Mountain and River Map hung before her, and the stars on the scroll dimmed one by one.

Finally, after three breaths, the black beam dissipated.

That sea of stars also dissipated.

Simultaneously.

Cleanly.

As if nothing had ever happened.

Only the ravaged Void Realm and the ten-thousand-mile vacuum in the firmament that refused to dissipate were telling everyone—in that instant just now, a collision that should not exist in the mortal world had occurred here.

Just at this moment, the aftermath arrived.

Not a single wave, but a ring.

From the center where the two forces melted away, a ripple spread out.

Not a ripple of water—but an invisible ripple.

Wherever the ripple passed, space cracked, stars trembled, and the air was squeezed and exploded, emitting a harsh, screeching sound.

The ripple spread in all directions.

Upward, downward, to the left, to the right.

Toward Sanyuan Star.

The land of Sanyuan Star was trembling; it was Sanyuan Star in fear.

The entire star was plummeting—not truly falling, but space was distorting, making people feel as if it were falling.

The entire Star Continent felt as if it were about to be swallowed by this invisible ripple.

The Cultivators on the teleportation plaza could no longer stand; some lay on the ground, some hugged pillars, and some were thrown flying.

"It's over..." someone muttered.

"I don't want to die yet..."

"If I had known, I would have confessed to Xiang'er yesterday..."

Some had long since flown up on their swords, desperately fleeing outside the city.

Some simply stood in place, looking up at the sky, waiting for death.

There were also Nascent Soul Cultivators frantically activating Teleportation Talismans, escaping ten thousand miles away in the blink of an eye.

But an aftermath of this level would affect the entire Star Continent; never mind ten thousand miles, even a hundred thousand miles would be useless.