Chapter 442 Demonic Flames Burn the Sky, Yan Fen Falls

Yan Fen stared fixedly at the wound on Nightmare's right arm, which was healing rapidly. The lava-like firelight in his eyes danced violently.

He could clearly feel it—the power he had gained by burning his Origin was rapidly fading.

The backlash from the secret technique was imminent.

Yet, the aura of that outsider from another domain opposite him remained steady, even slowly rising.

"Can't drag this out any longer..." Alarm bells screamed in Yan Fen's heart. "I must decide this with one strike!"

Gritting his teeth fiercely, he completely ignited the remaining chaos origin within his body!

"Yan Huang's Scorching World - Ultimate!"

Dark golden flames erupted from his body, transforming into a pillar of fire that pierced the heavens! The entire sky was dyed crimson-gold. Cultivators from both sides fighting below simultaneously felt a suffocating, scorching heat!

At the center of the flames, Yan Fen's body began to crack inch by inch—this was the price for exceeding his limits, but he could no longer afford to care!

"DIE—!!!"

Raising his greatsword high with both hands, he merged with the sword, becoming a single flaming meteor that pierced heaven and earth, crashing straight towards Nightmare!

This strike was infinitely close to the level of a Chaos Dao Ancestor!

On the battlefield below, whether they were Yan Huo Vanguard or Nidao Alliance elites, they all instinctively stopped fighting and looked up in horror.

Zuo Feng's face turned deathly pale. "My lord..."

Nightmare watched the oncoming flaming meteor, but the Demonic Flame in his eyes was unusually calm.

He even closed his eyes.

"Burning your Origin to forcibly elevate your power can indeed cause combat strength to skyrocket briefly."

He murmured to himself, as if commenting on the taste of a dish:

"But when the Origin fluctuates violently, protection will inevitably reveal—"

"A flaw."

As his words fell, he opened his eyes.

The Demonic Flame in his eyes had shifted from pitch-black to dark gold—the color after fusing with part of Yan Fen's flame Origin.

He had seen through it.

He had seen through that thread-thin, almost imperceptible gap at the very core of the flaming meteor, created by the violent fluctuation of the Origin.

"Reverse Path Convergence - Absolute Kill."

Nightmare raised his right hand, bringing his index and middle fingers together, and gently pointed forward.

At his fingertip, what condensed was not Demonic Flame, but a line as fine as a hair, black to the extreme.

The line shot out, soundless and traceless.

As if he had merely casually drawn a stroke in the air.

The next second, the line touched the flaming meteor.

There was no explosion, no roar.

Only a faint *hiss*.

Like a red-hot iron block falling into ice water.

The flaming meteor split apart.

Starting from that minute gap at its center, cracks rapidly spread, covering the entire meteor in the blink of an eye!

Yan Fen's figure tumbled from the flames. A thin, line-like wound piercing through his chest was frantically gushing out dark golden Origin light points.

He looked down at the wound on his chest, his eyes filled with disbelief.

"You... how is it possible..."

Nightmare withdrew his hand, the black line at his fingertip dissipating.

"Your power, borrowed in the end, is still borrowed."

He took a step forward, arriving before Yan Fen in an instant. His right hand moved like lightning, seizing Yan Fen by the neck.

"And I—"

His five fingers tightened.

"—am my own power."

*Crack.*

Neck bone shattered.

The divine light in Yan Fen's eyes rapidly dimmed. His body began to disintegrate, turning into a sky full of golden light points that dissipated within the chaos qi flow.

The Yan Huang Tribe's war general, Late Stage Chaos Supreme, Yan Fen—

Had fallen.

On the battlefield below, a deathly silence fell.

All the Yan Huo Vanguard Cultivators stared dumbly at the black-robed figure in mid-air and the gradually dissipating golden light dust in his hand.

The Commander... is dead?

Killed... instantly?

After a brief, deathly silence.

"RUN—!!"

Someone, no one knew who, roared hoarsely. The five hundred Yan Huo Vanguard completely collapsed, scattering and fleeing in all directions!

Zuo Feng was the first to react, roaring with a strained voice:

"After them! Don't let a single one escape!!"

The Nidao Alliance elites charged out like tigers released from a cage, pouncing on the fleeing enemies!

It was a one-sided slaughter.

Having lost their commander, with morale shattered, numerical superiority was utterly meaningless.

Half an incense stick of time later.

The head of the last Yan Huo Vanguard Cultivator was severed, his corpse burned to ashes by Demonic Flame.

The battlefield returned to silence.

On the Grey Mist Wasteland, corpses littered the ground. Crimson and pitch-black blood intermingled and seeped in, dyeing the grey-white earth a sinister dark brown.

The Nidao Alliance elites panted, wounded, but their eyes were full of exhilaration.

They had won.

Eighty against five hundred. Slayed the enemy general. Annihilated the entire vanguard!

Nightmare descended back onto the city wall. His gaze swept over the battlefield, then turned towards the deeper reaches of the Grey Mist Wasteland.

He could sense the auras of those small and medium-sized tribes at the edge of the wasteland fluctuating violently—fear, shock, wariness.

He slowly spoke, his voice, amplified by the resonance of the Dao Reversal Origin and Chaos Law, spread across a thousand miles:

"The Demon Bone Tribe has been destroyed."

"The Yan Huo Vanguard has been slaughtered."

"The Grey Mist Wasteland and Bone Prison City now fall under the jurisdiction of my Nidao Alliance."

His voice was calm, yet carried an unquestionable authority:

"Those who submit may share in the resources of Chaos and receive the protection of the Reverse Path."

"Those who oppose—"

He paused, his killing intent condensing into something tangible:

"Those who collude with the Yan Huang Tribe—"

"Will be exterminated, tribe and all."

The voice echoed, lingering for a long time.

Within a thousand-mile radius, all tribes, all Cultivators, heard it clearly.

For a moment, countless tribes were thrown into upheaval. Clan Chiefs and Elders convened emergency meetings, arguing endlessly.

But before half a day had passed.

Three envoy delegations from different tribes, bearing generous gifts, arrived trembling outside the Nidao Alliance's forward outpost, requesting an audience.

Nightmare did not see them. He merely had Zuo Feng accept the gifts and relay a message:

"Keep to yourselves, and you may live."

"Make any move, and you die."

The envoys retreated in fear.

Upon the city wall, Nightmare gazed into the depths of the grey mist, the Demonic Flame in his eyes burning calmly.

He knew this was only the beginning.

The Yan Huang Tribe would absolutely not let this rest.

And in the struggle for the Chaos Origin Pool one year later, the three great tribes and their countless subordinate forces were sure to unleash a storm of bloodshed.

"Perfect."

He murmured to himself:

"The Grandmist is too small, not enough to kill in."

"This Chaos Domain—"

"—is just right for true enjoyment."

He turned and walked towards the city interior.

Behind him, the grey mist churned, as if foretelling that an even more violent storm was about to arrive.