Chapter 2307: Defying Heaven, Communicating with the Netherworld

Chapter 2307: Ni Tian Tong Ming

Kill!

Fight!

Great Chu was in chaos, shouts of slaughter echoing through the sky. Gunpowder mixed with the flames of war, shrouding the blood-red clouds and obscuring the vast starry universe. The struggles of the common people were so brutal they stripped away all humanity. The mighty passes of Nan Chu were piled high with corpses and bones, stained with blood and tears, adorning that vast and beautiful landscape.

“Come out, get out here.”

Accompanied by rumbling tremors, Ye Chen’s roar was filled with desperate frenzy. The war in the north contrasted sharply with the calm in the south, yet both were soaked in fresh blood.

Buzz! Buzz!

The Tong Ming stone coffin hummed as it slowly rose from the ground, inch by inch. With every inch it ascended, a portion of Ye Chen’s sacred body exploded. His radiant muscles and bones were exposed, yet they could not withstand the Tong Ming backlash. Before the coffin was even half-raised, his physical form was completely shattered, leaving only his head and primordial spirit to hold on.

“I must have overestimated him or underestimated you,” Ming Di said with a hint of helplessness. He knew Tong Ming Di Huang would be extremely difficult, but he hadn’t realized it would be this bad. A quasi-emperor sacred body was pushing itself to such extremes, even its primordial spirit beginning to disintegrate.

Di Huang remained silent, his brows furrowed. He had already concealed his own pressure, hiding his sacred body bloodline and origin to make it easier for Ye Chen to perform Tong Ming.

Yet, even with these efforts, helping Ye Chen succeed was still impossible. Di Huang himself hadn’t realized how heavy his fully achieved sacred body was—so heavy that even a quasi-emperor sacred body couldn’t budge it.

“Come out, get out here.”

Ye Chen roared again, his remaining head and flesh drenched in blood. His scarlet eyes streamed with fresh blood, blurring his vision. Every time he moved the coffin even slightly, his head cracked open another inch. His sea of consciousness buzzed and roared, on the verge of collapsing at any moment.

“This is far from enough,” Yu Hua Xian Wang muttered, his brows tightly knit.

Apart from the two supreme beings, he was the only witness to this imperial Tong Ming.

As a peak quasi-emperor, his insight was sharp. At Ye Chen’s current rate of devastation, he would perish before completing Tong Ming on Di Huang—his body and spirit utterly destroyed.

It wasn’t just Ming Di who had underestimated Di Huang; Yu Hua Xian Wang had done the same. Di Huang was too powerful, so strong that even a quasi-emperor-level sacred body struggled to shake him.

Ye Chen might qualify for Tong Ming, but he was far from having the strength to summon Di Huang. It wasn’t that Ye Chen was too weak—it was that Di Huang was too strong, like an eight-thousand-zhang mountain that no mere ant could move, not even a quasi-emperor sacred body. This was an innate law of suppression, nearly impossible to reverse.

With that thought, Yu Hua Xian Wang declared firmly, “Stop forcing it. Withdraw the Tong Ming immediately.”

“Come out, get out here.”

Ye Chen ignored him, his roars coming from the depths of his soul, carrying the unyielding spirit of a sacred body. The hope of the common people was his obsession; he would fight to the death.

“You still have a chance. Don’t be reckless,” Yu Hua Xian Wang said coldly, ready to interrupt the Tong Ming. He didn’t want the sacred body lineage to be wiped out because of this.

The chance he mentioned wasn’t empty consolation—it was real.

Ye Chen had only crossed the threshold to quasi-emperor without undergoing the tribulation. In a sense, he wasn’t a complete quasi-emperor. But if he passed the quasi-emperor heavenly tribulation, it would be different.

The ancient sacred body stood on par with great emperors, granting it unique privileges.

This lineage differed from other bloodlines. Its advancement included both a quasi-emperor gate and a quasi-emperor heavenly tribulation, unlike figures like Han Jiang Di Zi or Lu Tian Di Zi, who only had the tribulation.

Tribulation could also bring transformation and rebirth.

Whether Ye Chen underwent the tribulation would elevate him to a new level. That was his opportunity—only after passing the quasi-emperor heavenly tribulation could he have a real hope of summoning Di Huang, rather than throwing his life away now. As long as he lived, he was the greatest hope; the realms still had a chance to turn the tide.

Ye Chen understood his words.

However, he knew all too well the devastating cost of that opportunity. The common people of the realms couldn’t wait that long; they would be slaughtered to extinction by the Hong Huang clans. A quasi-emperor tribulation might be something he could endure, but the realms could not.

“Mom, I miss Dad.”

“Be good, Ling Er. Don’t look back.”

Suddenly, those words echoed in his ears.

They came from Ye Ling and Chu Ling, his daughter and wife, standing guard on the walls of Nan Chu, covered in crimson blood—one fighting for her father, the other for her husband, holding up the sky.

Ye Chen trembled, able to see through countless miles to the mighty pass of Nan Chu.

His wives had not looked back, not once, for fear that a single glance would disrupt his focused resolve. All they left for their husband were blood-stained silhouettes, standing firm at that southern gate.

History always repeated itself in astonishing ways.

There was a pitiable hope named Ye Chen. In both past and present lives, countless predecessors and successors had selflessly stood before him, willing to protect his path, even to shatter themselves, knowing it was like moths to a flame, yet pressing on relentlessly.

Countless backs told him one thing: As long as people stand, the walls stand.

“The fortunes of the realms shall endure forever.”

The roars of the common people shook the heavens and earth.

On the thousand-wounds Nan Chu walls, blooms of blood flowers burst forth, more vibrant than the flowers of the other shore. It was the self-destruction of the realm’s people, dragging swaths of Hong Huang foes to their graves, forging a blood-red great wall at the Nan Chu border for the Tenth Emperor of Great Chu.

Ah!

Ye Chen wept, his howl mingled with blood and tears, reverberating through the three realms.

His form changed. His nearly exploding head instantly reformed, and his eyes—which should have been radiant gold—turned as dark as black holes. His long, ink-black hair turned strand by strand to blood-red, and his shattered ancient sacred body reformed inch by inch, reshaping limbs, organs, meridians, and veins. Accompanied by demonic aura, drops of sacred blood transformed into black.

“Blood Succession Limit?” Yu Hua Xian Wang exclaimed in shock.

That was exactly it.

History repeated itself in astonishing ways. The holy lord of the heavenly court and emperor of Great Chu was not fighting alone. He bore the blood debts of the realms and the hopes of the common people. How could he lack an undying state to aid in this heaven-defying battle?

“Good,” Ming Di said, excited at the sight.

Di Huang’s eyes also shone brightly. In his previous life, Ye Chen had used the Blood Succession Limit to restore half of the ancient sacred body. In this life, he would use this undying state to compensate for his untribulated power. The sacred body’s descendants would create another immortal legend, just as in the past when they slaughtered emperors.

“Come out, get out here.”

Ye Chen’s roars were now infused with immortality.

Buzz! Buzz!

The Tong Ming stone coffin trembled, rising inch by inch from the ground, far faster than before. The entire earth shook, truly shaking that mountain of Di Huang.

Thud! Thud!

The cost of Tong Ming remained as brutal as ever. With every inch the coffin rose, Ye Chen’s sacred body exploded once more, as if struck by an imperial immortal technique, intent on destroying him completely.

Yet Ye Chen’s obsession would not allow him to give up. His black-hole eyes flashed with undying light. He could not lose this battle; losing meant the doom of the myriad realms and their people.

“Are all sacred body descendants this fierce?” Yu Hua Xian Wang murmured, his expression dazed and blurred. Looking at the current Ye Chen was like seeing the past Di Huang, who had stood before the Dong Hua Empress until death, fighting bloody battles against the five emperors of the Tian Mo Domain for his Yue Shang.

In the end, he slowly lowered the hand he had raised, intending to stop the Tong Ming. Now, it seemed unnecessary. This young sacred body descendant had shocked him too much. He wasn’t sure if Ye Chen could succeed, but he was willing to give him the chance. This was a high-stakes gamble with the fates of the realms.

“Come out, get out here.”

Amid the roars, Ye Chen went mad, heedless of the price.

Thud! Thud!

His sacred body rose with the coffin, exploding and reforming repeatedly. Even the undying Blood Succession Limit couldn’t withstand the Tong Ming backlash.

But his madness ignited a glimmer of hope.

The three-zhang coffin was now eighty percent out of the ground, exuding an ancient and desolate aura, along with a domineering presence. That aura belonged to the fully achieved sacred body of Di Huang. Though not fully summoned, a trace of his pressure already spanned the human and underworld realms.

Thud!

Blood flowers bloomed again as Ye Chen’s sacred body exploded once more, leaving only a faint primordial spirit. This time, it didn’t reform—or more accurately, the Blood Succession Limit had ended, no longer granting undying state. The Tong Ming backlash was too powerful, disrupting the hidden laws and shortening the limit’s duration.

Now, the stone coffin was over ninety percent out of the ground.

After such a devastating toll, the imperial Tong Ming was just one step away.

In that instant, Yu Hua Xian Wang held his breath.

On the peak of Jie Ming Mountain, Ming Di also held his breath, staring intently. All his schemes hinged on this final step. Whether the realms could be saved depended on whether Ye Chen could pull through.

Di Huang stood silently, saying nothing from beginning to end.

His sacred body had become translucent and illusory, in a strange state—suspended between being summoned and not. The Tong Ming light had isolated his original realm.

As a sacred body ancestor, he unconditionally believed in Ye Chen, just as he had when sending him into the six paths of reincarnation, trusting he could survive. What he couldn’t do, Ye Chen could.

“Come out, get out here.”

Ye Chen roared, burning his true self to the extreme and sacrificing his primordial spirit. He concentrated all his achievements and lifelong Dao principles into this final step, transforming them into primordial spirit flames to counter the domineering Tong Ming backlash and complete this heaven-defying summoning.

Yu Hua Xian Wang trembled. This young one was staking his life on the Tong Ming.

Buzz!

The stone coffin hummed loudly and finally rose fully from the ground. Though only three zhang long, it was like an eight-thousand-zhang mountain, standing on the earth and suppressing the eternal immortal vault.

Thud!

Ye Chen’s primordial spirit exploded, leaving only a tiny spark of light—the core flame of his primordial spirit, on the brink of total extinction. Once this flame went out, he would truly die.

Seal!

Yu Hua Xian Wang snorted coldly and used a great divine ability to seal Ye Chen’s last spark of primordial spirit flame. In the moment before it was sealed, the flame shot out a brilliant golden ray, entering the stone coffin and granting the fully achieved sacred body its proper consciousness.

Boom!

The stone coffin shattered, and a towering figure manifested in the world.

In that instant, eternity was frozen, marking a moment of profound historical significance.

The fully achieved sacred body, Di Huang, had returned to the realms after eons. Covered in the dust of ages, his once-empty eyes gradually regained clarity, and his stoic face etched with human emotions, carrying memories of ancient history.

“The blade of time is relentless!” Yu Hua Xian Wang said with a weary laugh, gazing at the awakening Di Huang and recalling the glorious days of the past, including the peerless Yue Shang. Those ancient memories would be an eternal mark for him.

“Finally, a perfect merit,” Ming Di said with a relieved smile, gently waving his hand to seal the rift between the human and underworld realms once more. The timing was just right.

At his side, the true Di Huang was gone; the real one was now in the realms.

Not to mention, losing a supreme-level companion left him feeling oddly empty. If he wanted to jest with Di Huang again, he’d have to go to the realms—it would be a long wait.

“That Yu Hua Xian Wang won’t slap the emperor, will he?” the Ten Yama Kings chimed in, standing in a neat line with their hands clasped, staring toward the border of Nan Chu.

“Don’t say it, but it’s possible. They’re rivals in love.”

“If I were Yu Hua Xian Wang, even if I didn’t slap him, I’d kick him.”

“Yeah, anyway, the emperor hasn’t fully recovered yet. He wouldn’t even know if he got kicked.”

The Ten Yama Kings chatted lively, trading quips with great enthusiasm.

As they spoke, they suddenly felt their feet leave the ground. Everything blurred before their eyes, and they saw vast landscapes flashing by.

Whoa!

The great and small ghosts of the underworld collectively looked up, their eyes following the Yama Kings’ flight path from side to side, as if seeing them off. They didn’t know how far they flew, only that after a long while, a thunderous boom echoed.

The one who struck was Ming Di, tired of their endless chatter.

Still, their words sparked his imagination. He stroked his chin thoughtfully, quite certain that if he were Yu Hua Xian Wang, he would definitely kick Di Huang.

Boom!

As he pondered, a boom came from the Nan Chu walls.

In view of the scene, the sprawling Nan Chu passes collapsed with a roar.

Thud! Thud! Thud!

Countless figures flew out amid the flying debris, and who knew how many exploded into blood mist, staining every brick and tile.

“Kill! Kill for me! Leave no one alive—slaughter them all!”

The Hong Huang clan emperors howled like madmen, their faces twisted like demons. After so many days of battle, they had finally breached the walls, their excitement bordering on frenzy.

Kill!

No orders were needed; the Hong Huang armies, like a vast ocean, surged over the ruins of the Nan Chu walls. More frenzied than their emperors, their scarlet eyes were savage and bloodthirsty. The blood aura of the realm’s beings drove them wild, intent on quenching their raging fires with it.

Fight!

The realm’s cultivators roared, dragging their blood-soaked bodies and gripping their bloodstained swords, charging at the Hong Huang forces. Though the Nan Chu walls had fallen, they still stood—and as long as they did, the realms endured.

Boom!

But before the two sides clashed, another boom shook Great Chu.

“Who dares bully my realms when no one is left?”

This cold snort was like a heavenly decree, carrying supreme authority. It echoed from the border of Nan Chu across the four seas and eight wastelands, like eternal thunder shaking the cosmic vault.