Chapter 1626: Three Hundred Years of Karma

The apocalypse was cloaked in darkness, the last glimmer of light fading into dust.

The Tianmo Di's brilliance and the thunderous divine arrow both cycled through destruction and rebirth.

Ye Chen spat blood, nearly collapsing. His sacred light was on the verge of extinction, his body a chaotic mess of blood and bone. Brilliant blood stained his entire sacred form.

The Tianmo Di was also splattered with blood across the stars. His imperial bones were shattered, his dazzling imperial light eroded by time and scarred beyond recognition.

This peak clash between supreme beings brought no victory or defeat, only loss and injury, with unhealable rifts within their bodies.

"Why? Why won't you die?" the Tianmo Di roared, his imperial eyes bulging with bloodshot veins.

He had struck down the Sheng Ti time and again, yet Ye Chen rose each time, unkillable.

Even the supreme emperor was driven to madness.

It was a humiliation, an utter disgrace. The emperor's dignity was obliterated, his so-called glory and splendor reduced to mere props.

"Even in death, I'll drag you to hell," Ye Chen's words rang with resolve, his unbreakable will forging an unyielding belief in victory.

"Kill!" The Tianmo Di howled, gripping his imperial sword as he charged.

"War!" Ye Chen tightened his grip on Xuanyuan, advancing without retreat.

One supreme emperor staggered from east to west.

One fully realized Sheng Ti stumbled from west to east.

Each step left bloody footprints, dragging their mutilated, blood-soaked bodies.

The two supreme beings were at their limits, their vital energy depleted, their magical powers exhausted, even their protective immortal light gone.

The emperor bore the glory of an emperor, the Sheng Ti carried the pride of a Sheng Ti. Both charged forward on the path of conquest until death.

The battle no longer stirred cosmic waves; it was primal and brutal.

The Tianmo Di swung his sword, carving a gash into the Sheng Ti's body.

Ye Chen struck with his sword, slashing a bloody wound across the emperor's form.

For every sword you swing at me, I'll strike back with my own, even if it kills me.

No defense, no evasion, only attack upon attack, wildly wielding the imperial sword without rest.

The clash between supreme beings reached the height of savagery.

Who could have imagined that a great emperor and a fully realized Sheng Ti would fight so ferociously, refusing to stop until one slaughtered the other?

Sacred bones intertwined with imperial blood, imperial bones crossed with sacred blood. Blood warred with bones, and bones contended with blood, neither willing to yield.

Another collision sent the Xuanyuan sword flying.

It seemed even more exhausted than Ye Chen, its imperial light fully dissipated, lodged diagonally in the starry sky, its ultimate imperial might restrained to the extreme.

"Die!" The Tianmo Di laughed menacingly, gripping his sword with both hands in a savage, bloodthirsty strike that landed on Ye Chen's shoulder.

"Return the favor with a punch!" Ye Chen roared, shattering the Tianmo Di's chest bones with a fist, sending the emperor's bones flying, stained with blood like the sacred bones.

The emperor's sword and the Sheng Ti's fist both inflicted devastating wounds.

Ye Chen staggered, vomiting blood wildly, nearly falling.

The Tianmo Di retreated unsteadily, his ultimate imperial sword slipping from his grasp and embedding in the starry sky, smeared with imperial blood.

Both men's eyes dimmed, swaying on the verge of collapse, too exhausted to stand, longing to sleep for eons.

"Kill!" The Tianmo Di bellowed, dragging his blood-drenched imperial body toward Ye Chen, his hair disheveled like a demon.

"War!" Ye Chen roared, limping forward, his unyielding Sheng Ti standing firm, swinging a bloodied fist.

The final assault of the two supreme beings unfolded under the apocalyptic light.

The emperor's punch sent the Sheng Ti staggering, and the Sheng Ti's punch made the emperor falter. Each blow seemed to drain every ounce of strength.

In the end, the emperor fell, with no will left to rise.

Ye Chen approached unsteadily, forging a path of blood.

After three hundred years, he once again mounted the Tianmo Di, raising his bloodied fist and slamming it down.

"This punch is for Tian Ting, for the three hundred years squandered."

"This punch is for Da Chu, to honor the souls lost in vain."

"This punch is for the myriad heavens, to reclaim our vast lands."

Ye Chen struck again and again, each blow drawing blood, shattering the Tianmo Di's skull and scattering his bloodied bones.

With every punch came a roar, filled with grief and desolation, speaking of endless sorrow and unceasing pain.

The Tianmo invasion had shattered his beautiful dreams.

The Tianmo invasion had left his memories stained only with blood and tears.

Too many had perished, too many buried far from home. That once-vast land had been ravaged into ruins by them.

This was vengeance and hatred. The great enmity must be repaid, the furious grudge settled. Having wrought a sea of blood, they owed the common people justice.

"Ah!" The Tianmo Di roared, his imperial eyes bloodshot, struggling to rise only to be knocked back by Ye Chen's fist each time.

What expression filled the emperor's eyes? Menacing, violent, bloodthirsty, angry, unwilling—and fearful.

He had been defeated, the supreme emperor doomed to defeat once more.

Years ago, he had been utterly crushed by a Sheng Ti.

Now, he was defeated even more disastrously, slain by the same man.

The karma of three hundred years sealed his fate. The emperor's end was still the Yellow Springs on the far side of the stars.

In this moment, the so-called great emperor, the so-called supreme of all domains, became the greatest joke in the world.

"Ah!" The heart of a great emperor shattered.

"This punch is for all living beings; blood debts must be paid in blood!"

Ye Chen roared, raising his fist once more, channeling endless wounds and pain into it, blasting the Tianmo Di to pieces.

Karma cycled on. The fateful war spanning over three hundred years ended with the Sheng Ti victorious again, defying the heavens to slay the emperor and settle the blood debt.

Blood and tears streaked across his vision, blurring his eyes with sorrow and grief.

Imperial blood splattered the starry sky, just as it had in Da Chu years ago, honoring the departed souls and consoling the spirits of the fallen.

With the Tianmo Di's death, the demonic spirit seals on his body dissipated.

The Tianmo soldiers still locked in battle, whether in Da Chu, Xuan Huang, the starry seas, or all domains, turned to ash one by one, dissolving into history's dust in waves.

They roared in death, filled with unwillingness and fury. Their emperor was dead, and after three hundred years of cycles, they were defeated again.

"We won, we won!" The cultivators of Da Chu wept with emotion, sobbing uncontrollably, roaring from the depths of their souls.

"We won, we won!" The cultivators of Xuan Huang shouted, raising their battered weapons, cheering triumphantly, their voices shaking the heavens.

"We won, we won!" The cultivators of the myriad heavens bellowed, whether elders or youths, all trembling, tears welling in their eyes.

"He slaughtered an emperor once more, continuing the immortal legend."

"The Sheng Ti lineage has not disappointed the living beings of all domains."

"We're getting old," Da Chu's Nine Emperors, the Nine Divine Generals, Donghua's Seven Sons, the Sword God, and Mo Yuan all smiled with a sense of age.

This was no longer their era, yet it surpassed their time. The heroes of later generations would lead a new legend.

Slaying two emperors in one lifetime—his heaven-defying feats were unprecedented and would remain unmatched. He was the true myth.

The myriad heavens trembled, cheering for him and rejoicing in the victory.

Yet this great immortal-demon war had claimed too many heroes.

The starry sky echoed with cries of grief, as too many searched for their loved ones.

In one part of the stars, the Sacred Ape Ancestor's iron staff was stained with fresh blood.

He had fallen in battle, fighting alone until his ape body shattered, perishing with that Tianmo Lord on the path to the Yellow Springs.

In another part, a shattered battle-axe dripped with blood.

That was the Kui Niu Ancestor's, who had dragged a Demon Lord to hell. The imperial dao inheritance had not disgraced the former emperors' prestige.

In yet another, five blood-soaked robes drifted with the stellar currents.

Those belonged to the ancestors of the Southern Domain's five royal clans, who fought to their deaths, each taking down a Demon Lord. Their war souls etched in the heavens.

In another section, five ruined artifacts had their divine light extinguished.

Those were from the ancient five clans' ancestors, who turned to ash in the stellar winds, slaying countless Tianmo and securing a new era for posterity.

Too many had died, too many sects and races had been wiped out.

The myriad heavens and all domains were left in ruins, piled with mountains of corpses and rivers of blood, with weapons thrust into the battlefield.

They had won a great victory, but it was so tragic it brought tears. War's cruelty had bathed the vast universe in blood.

This battle would be remembered by future generations, sweeping across all domains, turning vibrant lives into heroic spirits.

Under the apocalypse, Ye Chen trudged forward with heavy steps, advancing with difficulty.

His silhouette was lonely and desolate, covered in the dust of ages.

His path was paved with blood and bones. Each step of his journey defied the heavens, etching his body and dao into eternity.

"Three years, I still have three years." His voice was hoarse, his smile world-weary, filled with longing for those three years.

In three years, he would marry, have children, and live freely in the mortal world, ignoring the chaos of the realm.

Ahead, a burst of colorful immortal light appeared. A seven-colored sword emerged from the void—it was the Zhu Xian Jian.

The legendary sword of the heavens rang out in desolation, slicing through an immortal river and striking at the weakened Ye Chen.

"Zhu Xian Jian!" Ye Chen's eyes turned icy cold as he stepped forward, but he staggered, spewing a mouthful of blood.

Everything happened in an instant; even the Sheng Ti could not react in time.

He was hit directly, sent flying, blood spraying and bones scattering, stark against the dark starry sky.

As he flew backward, his Sheng Ti body trembled with a hum, and the six paths of the mortal world separated, one to the left and one to the right, attacking the Zhu Xian Jian.

The Zhu Xian Jian let out a chilling laugh, cold and unrestrained, like a beam of immortal light tearing through the void, vanishing in an instant.

The six paths of the mortal world crossed the river of time, one left and one right, pursuing without delay, striking at the same moment.

The Zhu Xian Jian came quickly and left just as fast, aiming only to slay Ye Chen, just as it had ambushed the Sheng Ti Chen Zhan ages ago.

The starry sky fell silent after their departure.

Ye Chen plummeted from the stars, like falling petals, drifting unsteadily.

He was no longer at the peak of quasi-emperor, nor the dominant fully realized Sheng Ti. He was merely a humble Tianjing cultivator.

His eyes were dark and lightless, his hair streaked with white strands, his life force on the brink of extinction.

He had aged once more, exhausted to the point of leaving the world.

The Zhu Xian Jian's sneak attack had severed his path to survival. His so-called three years was nothing but a beautiful delusion.

In his haze, he seemed to see an ethereal woman again, dressed in bridal attire, dancing gracefully and smiling back at him.

This time, he saw her clearly, recognizing that face.

This time, he understood the source of his so-called three-year lifespan: she wore bridal clothes, stepped onto the altar, lay beside him, her tenderness like water, her eyes full of tears.

"Nanming Yushu." He wept, his eyes blurred with turbid tears.