Chapter 1577: Emperor's Artifact

As the words fell, the three great holy lands regrouped, surging forward like a black ocean, charging straight at the Tian Ting immortal mountain with the intent to overwhelm it entirely.

This time, they moved swiftly, their advance unrelenting.

"Target them precisely and attack. We have plenty of yuan shi, but we can't afford to waste them." Watching the approaching forces of the three great armies, Long Yi cleared his throat and personally took command of a killing array.

"Just watch! No matter how many come, we'll wipe them out in one go." Situ Nan grinned and also seized control of a killing array.

"Attack!" From outside the mountain, roars echoed as the cultivators from the three holy lands launched their assault. They reactivated their attack formations, unleashing beams of array light, combined with magical tools, secret techniques, and divine powers, sweeping across the sky like a storm.

The heavens filled with divine radiance, intertwining into thunderbolts that brought utter destruction, crashing against the Tian Ting barrier with a deafening buzz that shook the firmament.

"Attack!" With Long Wu's fierce shout, Tian Ting countered. One by one, the Virtual Heaven Killing Arrays activated, firing streams of destructive divine light.

It was a terrifying sight—the divine beams shooting from Tian Ting were countless, enough to make anyone's scalp tingle.

"My goodness! Tian Ting has so many Virtual Heaven Killing Arrays." Onlookers from all sides gasped in shock, swallowing hard.

"With that many killing arrays, it must take an enormous amount of yuan shi! That's just burning money!" Someone clicked their tongue in amazement.

"Tian Ting has fifty million cultivators—if each contributes ten yuan shi, that's five hundred million. With that kind of wealth, why wouldn't they be extravagant?"

"Underestimating Tian Ting was a mistake." Yao Huang furrowed his brow slightly.

"A bunch of ragtag fools." The Yao Clan ancestor remarked indifferently, though surprised, he wasn't truly shocked—for him, everything paled in comparison to the ultimate emperor weapons.

As for the cultivators from the three holy lands, their expressions were the most dramatic.

The moment the sky filled with divine beams, their eyes bulged wide, and their pupils collectively contracted.

What an overwhelming number of killing arrays, and every one a Virtual Heaven Killing Array, turning the heavens into a scarred wasteland.

In just one or two instants, their attacks struck the Tian Ting barrier but failed to shake it in the slightest.

The next moment, Tian Ting's divine beams rained down, blanketing everything.

Blood sprayed instantly, flowers of blood blooming as figures turned to ash in waves, their spirits and bodies annihilated together, not even a scream escaping.

The scene was gruesome—one wave of attacks wiped out several hundred thousand from the three holy lands. Blood mist filled the air, shrouding the sky and staining the earth, turning the world into a bloody nightmare.

"Retreat! Retreat now!" The three holy land masters screamed at the top of their lungs.

After shouting, they were the first to flee.

Without needing orders, the cultivators from the three holy lands fled for their lives, abandoning armor and weapons, their ranks in total disarray.

This battle was unwinnable—if they continued, they'd just be courting death.

In numbers, they were outmatched by Tian Ting's forty-plus million;

In killing arrays, they were vastly inferior;

In defense, they couldn't even compare.

Escape was their only option, or they'd all end up in hell—Tian Ting was too ferocious; even a quasi-emperor would kneel before it.

"Attack! Hit them hard!" Shouts of fury rang out from Tian Ting.

Fleeing just because they couldn't win? Not that easy.

The second wave of attacks descended with deadly accuracy, picking off escapees one by one and burying them in the void.

The Virtual Heaven Killing Arrays weren't just overwhelmingly powerful—they had an impressive range too. Over eighty percent of the three holy lands' forces were still within reach, making them easy targets.

Screams erupted, more piercing than the wails of ghosts.

Onlookers from all sides could hardly bear to watch—this wasn't a battle; it was Tian Ting's one-sided massacre.

It wasn't until the booms finally faded that Tian Ting ceased fire, everyone pulling out their wine flasks and stopping the killing arrays.

It wasn't that they didn't want to keep fighting; the enemy had retreated beyond the arrays' range, so any further attacks would be pointless.

As for the three holy lands' cultivators, "tragic" barely described it.

Out of nearly a million, fewer than a thousand escaped, and each was wounded—over half in spirit form only.

"Waste." Yao Huang snorted coldly, not even bothering to glance their way.

His words hit the three holy land masters like a blow, making them choke up blood and stagger, nearly collapsing.

Though furious, they dared not speak out—they couldn't afford to provoke the Yao Clan.

This was karma, pure and simple. They had been hiding safely in the starry skies, but insisted on returning, only to become cannon fodder. So many deaths, and all they got was being called waste.

That was the brutal law of the strong's world.

"An old man like me can tell, this is what they call getting what you deserve." Among the onlookers, an elder stroked his beard, trying not to smile and instead adopting a tone of solemn wisdom.

"Extinguished in a single clash—nearly a million strong." Someone sighed. "The three great holy lands' defeat this time is catastrophically humiliating!"

"With the three great holy lands defeated, the Yao Clan is likely next." The comment drew many eyes—after all, everyone wanted to see how the Yao Clan would fight.

"Tian Ting does not fear battle." A faint voice echoed from the Tian Ting immortal mountain—it was Ye Chen speaking, transmitted through a sound stone.

He still stood on the immortal fire clouds, his expression calm and unchanging.

He knew this war wasn't over—the earlier skirmish was just a warm-up; the real battle was about to begin.

"I've caught the scent of an emperor weapon." Long Yi and Long Wu murmured, their faces grave, no trace of jest.

Sure enough, as soon as they spoke, a thunderous boom resounded, making the ten-thousand-li expanse of heaven and earth tremble.

The skies darkened as a beam of immortal light shot upward.

It was a divine cauldron, enveloped in destructive divine radiance, etched with ancient god patterns and resonating with the sounds of the great dao.

Looking up, one could see visions of ancient scenes: mountains collapsing, stars extinguishing, worlds rebirth, and lives perishing, all cycling into eternity.

It was incredibly powerful, with emperor dao laws dancing around it, pressuring the heavens. Even the faint wisps of its aura felt as heavy as mountains.

The ultimate emperor might erupted, forming ripples like an invisible hand sweeping over rivers and lands, covering the vast plains.

Wherever it passed, the wind halted, leaves froze in mid-air, and even the wheel of time seemed to stop.

The dim heavens held no other light—only that divine cauldron hung there, like a brilliant sun illuminating the world.

"The Yao Clan's emperor weapon, Zhentian Hu." The older cultivators murmured, their voices trembling, faces pale, as if recognizing the artifact.

"So incredibly strong." The younger cultivators shuddered, unable to resist kneeling—it was as if facing an emperor itself.

The great emperors of the Yao Clan were symbols of an era, invincible across the heavens, ruling all spirits, eternal legends that shook history.

In ancient times, these emperors stood at the peak of the dao, their life-bound emperor weapons capable of destroying worlds.

"After endless ages, to see the Zhentian Hu again in such a context." Tian Zhu gazed upward, his old eyes filled with nostalgia, as if recalling events from long ago.

"I vaguely remember when the Yao Emperor came to Tian Xu, he was like a scholar, sitting opposite the Tian Wang, discussing scriptures for three days straight." Di Mie murmured. "And now, so many years have passed."

Who would have thought that Tian Zhu and Di Mie had once shared drinks with the Yao Emperor? His brilliance was etched in their memories, never to fade.

And who could have imagined that, after the changes of seas and mountains, the Yao Emperor's descendants would wield the Zhentian Hu to show off their might in Tian Xu?

Both sighed, turning their gaze to Tian Ting, their eyes settling on Ye Chen. That lone, resolute figure stood like a monument, never once looking up.

He had no need to—Ye Chen had slain emperors before; how could he bow to an emperor weapon? The sacred body was unyielding, as it had always been.

Not just him—everyone in Tian Ting kept their eyes forward.

They had fought for hope under the Tian Mo Emperor; what was an ultimate emperor weapon to them? It couldn't force them to their knees.

"Open your mountain gates and come out yourselves, and I will grant you a swift end." The Yao Clan ancestor spoke, ruling over the vast skies.

His voice echoed through the nine heavens, carrying an authority that brooked no defiance.

His eyes encompassed the world, yet dismissed all within it, looking down on Tian Ting as if it were mere ants.

"Blow apart the barrier first, then we'll talk." Ye Chen replied, his words calm and emotionless.