Chapter 2872: Didn't Disgrace You!

"Blood debt must be repaid in blood," said Ye Chen indifferently, unleashing the power of samsara.

"No, no, no!" Tianmo Di's eyes bulged, his pupils contracting tightly. No matter how unwilling or furious he was, in that moment, only fear remained. Even an emperor feared death, and he had truly sensed it coming. The terrifying power of samsara was utterly destroying his primordial spirit. He could see the god of death beckoning to him.

Ye Chen showed no mercy, forcefully extinguishing him.

"Ah!" Tianmo Di's wail carried a touch of tragedy. In his final moments between life and death, he must have felt deeply frustrated. On the Taigu Road, he had blocked for endless years and fought dozens of battles against two Da Cheng Sheng Ti, emerging unscathed each time. Yet, after falling into the Zhutian through a rift, he was about to perish at the hands of a half-step Da Cheng.

Accompanied by a roar, his imperial soul scattered into nothingness.

"The emperor is destroyed," the Zhutian cultivators supported one another, tears in their eyes. To stop this Tianmo Di, how many had died on the Xuan Huang Continent? Mountains of corpses, rivers of blood.

"He has slain another emperor," many whispered softly. Ye Chen, at half-step Da Cheng, was more radiant than the sun, his glory overshadowing the imperial path. He might not be the savior, but with him, the Zhutian would be safe, and all living beings secure.

Pfft!

Ye Chen spat out fresh blood, his body swaying unsteadily, nearly falling from the void. His Sheng Ti had cracked open, sacred blood flowing from the fissures. His face was deathly pale, and his surging golden vital energy was utterly depleted. In his weakened state, he had forcefully killed an emperor. Throughout this all-out assault, he had been desperately mobilizing his power, clinging to a single breath. He dared not stop for even a moment, or he would collapse completely. Already injured and suffering from the backlash of spatiotemporal laws, his wounds had only grown worse.

"Sheng Ti." The elders staggered forward, able to see the heavy price Ye Chen had paid to slay this emperor. His Dao roots were damaged, his origin wounded, and the backlash on his primordial spirit was the most terrifying. Another scar had been added—that was a Dao wound, caused by the backlash of spatiotemporal laws.

"It's nothing." Ye Chen smiled, glanced at the Zhutian cultivators, and then opened an imperial domain gate, stepping through it. Though this emperor was destroyed, another still lurked in the starry sky. He didn't know what level it was, but he had to go assist in the battle. Even in his weakened state, he could still fight to the death against a novice-level emperor.

"Hurry, hurry, hurry." Xuan Huang was not idle either. Some were healing, others setting up formations. No one could guarantee that a second Tianmo Di wouldn't attack, and Ye Chen had no spare attention for anything else.

Pfft!

In the domain gate passage, Ye Chen vomited blood again. Only he knew how severe his injuries were. The spatiotemporal Dao wounds had flared up, his Dao roots were shattered, his origin damaged—these wounds couldn't be healed in a short time.

Boom! Rumble!

Through the passage, he could vaguely hear the booming sounds, though he didn't know who was battling the Tianmo Di. If it was as intense as on Xuan Huang, the fight must be unimaginably brutal.

Boom!

In the eastern starry sky, another star exploded, the lingering waves of the imperial path forming halos that spread infinitely, collapsing space wherever they went and smashing countless ancient stars.

The combatants were Ming Jue and the Third Tianmo Di, who had clashed for countless rounds. The battle was fiercely savage, reducing them both to blood-soaked figures.

"Why won't you die?" Tianmo Di roared through disheveled hair, his teeth gritted. His imperial body was exposed with blood and bone, looking utterly horrific, like a fiend crawled from hell. He had underestimated this ant, whose imperial path power truly held the might to destroy heavens and earth, allowing a Quasi-Emperor to repeatedly wound a Great Emperor.

In the opposite starry sky, Ming Jue fared no better. His purple-gold armor was shattered, his cloak stained with blood, and his entire body covered in gashes. Each wound was entwined with imperial path dark light, constantly eroding his vital energy and making the injuries expand rather than heal. Though he possessed imperial path power, he was not a true emperor, and it hadn't fully fused yet. Facing a genuine supreme being, lasting this long was already a miracle.

Ming Di watched like a stone statue, his silence terrifying. Each time Ming Jue was severely wounded, his heart ached. Though Ming Jue was his disciple, he was like a child—Ming Di had raised him by hand.

As Ming Di watched, Ming Jue spat blood into the starry sky again, struck by a palm from Tianmo Di and nearly split in two. His glittering bones were exposed, a shocking sight.

"Fight!" Ming Jue's roar was resolute as he gripped the ultimate imperial sword, launching a frenzied assault. His battle intent soared to the heavens, his will unyielding. Every pore on his body burned with his life source, exhaling imperial path power. He was like a peerless war god, devouring the universe and shaking the eight directions. Bathed in the blood of a Great Emperor, he fought like a madman. From the moment he entered the starry sky and donned his armor, he had no intention of returning alive. He had to fight, must fight, and must win—for his wife and child, for all living beings. He would drag this Tianmo Great Emperor with him to the gates of hell.

"Ah!" He went berserk, and the Third Tianmo Di lost his mind too, unleashing imperial path immortal arts relentlessly, shattering the heavens and earth time after time. As a supreme being, how could he be defeated by a Quasi-Emperor?

Boom! Bang! Boom!

The battle's fluctuations were immense, collapsing the starry sky again as countless destructive visions manifested. A Quasi-Emperor against a Great Emperor—they would fight to the death.

"Die!" Tianmo Di howled shrilly, his war spear destroying heavens and earth.

Pfft!

Blood sprayed as Ming Jue was pierced through by the spear.

"Since you've come to the Zhutian, don't think about leaving alive." Ming Jue gritted his teeth like a madman, his left hand clutching Tianmo Di's war spear while his right hand wielded the imperial sword, thrusting it into the emperor's chest.

In that instant, time seemed to freeze. For three full breaths, neither moved—the supreme being held his spear, piercing Ming Jue; Ming Jue held his imperial sword, piercing the supreme. They stood like statues, motionless.

"Ah!" On the fourth breath, Tianmo Di's shriek rang out as his imperial might erupted.

Pfft!

Ming Jue vomited blood, his arm exploding on the spot as he was flung away, half his body collapsing. The imperial sword in his hand rang out and fell from the starry sky.

"You cannot destroy me." Tianmo Di laughed menacingly, his grin grotesque and terrifying. Gripping his blood-stained spear, he stepped toward Ming Jue, full of violence and bloodlust, intent on slaughtering this ant.

But as he walked, he suddenly halted, his expression changing drastically. On his imperial bones, imperial path divine patterns had appeared at some point, each one infused with destructive power capable of annihilating imperial forces.

"Shall we go together?" Ming Jue staggered to his feet, swaying unsteadily, barely able to stand. His laugh held a hint of menace, directed not at all living beings, but at Tianmo Di. The divine patterns inside the Great Emperor's body were his masterpiece, completed through his collaboration with the imperial sword. He had sacrificed all his imperial path power, transforming it into these terrifying imperial path divine patterns etched onto Tianmo Di's imperial bones, including his primordial spirit, true body, origin, and Dao roots—all covered in those destructive lines.

Boom!

With a thunderous explosion, Tianmo Di burst apart. His imperial body instantly disintegrated, along with his imperial path primordial spirit, origin, and true body.

"No!" Tianmo Di wailed, but he couldn't stop the destruction. He vanished in an instant, leaving a terrifying black halo that spread endlessly across the seas and wilderness.

Pfft!

Ming Jue spat blood again, hurled back by the halo, his body shattering in a moment. The faint flame of his primordial spirit flickered and then extinguished.

"Master, didn't I make you proud?" As he flew backward, Ming Jue's laugh was weary, his gaze distant, as if he could see through the barrier to Jie Ming Mountain and the Ming Di upon it.

"From beginning to end, you've done very well." Ming Di smiled gently, his eyes brimming with tears. Who said the imperial path was emotionless? They had feelings too, could feel pain, shed tears, and harbor guilt. It was Ming Di who had chosen Ming Jue, and he who had personally sent that child down the path to the underworld. He was Ming Di's disciple, but also a pitiful sacrifice.

Dao Zu watched in silence, his face expressionless. Compared to Ming Di, he seemed even more cold-blooded, merely observing quietly, his eyes devoid of any emotional fluctuation or sorrow. He had seen such tragedies too many times. Through endless cycles of change, to guard that stretch of starry sky, countless heroes had fallen, all for a sliver of hope, for that ray of dawn. There would be countless more charging forward, willing to shatter into pieces. Among them were people like him, Ming Di, and Ruoxi. They were all prepared to enter the battlefield at any moment, even if it meant moths to a flame, they would do so without hesitation.

"Ming Jue!" A hysterical cry echoed through the starry sky. She was Qing Luan, one hand on her swollen belly, stumbling forward with tears streaming down her face. In the shattered starry sky, she found her husband.

Others from the Zhutian arrived as well, and upon seeing Ming Jue's mangled body, everyone's form trembled uncontrollably. He had fought until his primordial spirit was destroyed.

"Don't leave me," Qing Luan held Ming Jue, sobbing uncontrollably. Even now, she didn't know why he had chosen her. She wasn't a heaven-defying prodigy or a peerless beauty, yet she had become the wife of a supreme being's disciple.

"My child," Ming Jue's voice was hoarse, his remaining hand trembling as he gently placed it on Qing Luan's abdomen. He could clearly feel the heartbeat of that little life, but sadly, he wouldn't live to see the child born.

"If there's a next life, I'll marry you again." Ming Jue smiled, uttering his final words of love, the last light in his eyes fading as he died completely. His blood-stained hand slid down gently, calling Qing Luan's name until the end. She was the woman he had fallen for at first sight, destined to be his lifelong partner from that glance years ago.

"Ah!" Qing Luan screamed in agony, her heart tearing apart. Strand by strand, her hair turned snow white, and the tears from her eyes became streaks of blood.

"We bid farewell to the divine son." The underworld judges, black and white impermanence, Qin Mengyao, the nine great Ming generals, and countless cultivators all bowed in unison, honoring Ming Jue, the war god of the underworld, who had slain a Great Emperor and protected all living beings.

In that instant, Ming Di pushed his imperial path divine eyes to the limit, scanning the entire underworld in hopes that his disciple's remnant soul had fallen into the underworld, allowing for resurrection.

Regrettably, he found nothing.

Dao Zu glanced over and lightly shook his head.

In the breeze, Ming Di's back hunched, his imperial hair gaining a strand of silver, aging significantly in an instant. His disciple had truly turned to dust.