Chapter 815: Mercy on the Battlefield

Upon hearing this, several hall masters of Zhengyang Zong charged in from all sides, their faces contorted with fury.

However, the allied forces from the four directions also surged forward, assisting Yang Zhen in blocking the hall masters of Zhengyang Zong.

They had a clear understanding of the situation: at this moment, Yang Zhen's standing within Zhengyang Zong was no less than Ji Ning Shuang's. With the two of them acting as intermediaries, their efforts would be twice as effective with half the work. Protecting him was of immense significance.

"Commander, we..." Many people looked towards Yang Zhen, their expressions filled with hesitation, unsure whether to follow the sect leader Cheng Kun or the grand commander Yang Zhen.

"The three sects were originally one family, so how can there be talk of betrayal?" Yang Zhen's voice was deep and resounding. "As cultivators, we should act with integrity. We may die in battle, but we will never associate with those who desecrate the spirits of our ancestors."

As soon as he spoke, many from Zhengyang Zong fell silent.

They had witnessed everything clearly before: the so-called Wang had summoned their forebears, including several ancestors who had once held them as infants. Now, those very ancestors had been refined into weapons of slaughter. This was a blatant manipulation of the dead, something no one could tolerate.

Of course, this was just one reason.

More importantly, many felt utterly exhausted. Ever since Dachu Xuanzong split, the three sects had been embroiled in endless conflict. They were weary of it all—fellow branches of the same root, why turn their swords against each other?

Compared to Zhengyang Zong's ruler, Cheng Kun, they were more willing to trust Ye Chen. Otherwise, their holy maiden wouldn't have submitted, and so many formidable forces wouldn't have united because of him.

I submit!

In the silence, an elderly man slowly walked to Yang Zhen's side.

His submission instantly triggered a chain reaction on the scene, with groups of people flocking to Yang Zhen's side, far more numerous than anyone had imagined.

"You... you all..." As the crowd gathering behind Yang Zhen grew, Cheng Kun's face twisted into a grotesque expression.

"Cheng Kun, your opponent is me." Yang Ding Tian's voice was firm, his attacks fierce, each divine ability overwhelmingly powerful.

"Kill!" Cheng Kun erupted in fury, no longer paying attention to Yang Zhen, and threw himself fully into a fierce battle with Yang Ding Tian in the skies above.

The battle was extremely brutal, but due to Yang Zhen and Ji Ning Shuang's influence, Zhengyang Zong's forces were greatly diminished. Already at a disadvantage, they were now completely suppressed by the allied forces, with people dying every second.

Bang! Boom! Rumble!

On the blood-red ground, two figures darted back and forth, fighting with earth-shattering intensity. Upon closer inspection, it was Liu Yi against Hua Yun.

Not far away, Nie Feng faced Zhengyang Zong's third true transmission disciple, Han Jun, while Nangong Yue battled Zhen Yang Zong's fourth true transmission disciple, Bai Yi. The other true transmission disciples of Hengyue Zong had also found their respective opponents.

However, it was worth noting that Liu Yi, Nie Feng, and Nangong Yue all held an absolute advantage.

This was not without reason, as Liu Yi and the others had already had their dantian seas and divine seas forcefully opened by Ye Chen. In a certain sense, Hua Yun and his peers were no longer on the same level.

This scene was truly poignant.

In the past, they had all been in their prime, competing fiercely in the three sects' grand tournament.

Now, meeting again on the battlefield.

Pfft!

As Liu Yi struck with his sword, Hua Yun was sent flying, crashing into a pool of blood.

Zing!

By the time Hua Yun staggered to his feet, Liu Yi's sword was already less than an inch from his brow.

But Liu Yi did not deliver the fatal blow, holding it steady at that inch.

The scene froze in that instant. One was a descendant of Zhengyang Zong's founder, Guang Long, the other a descendant of Hengyue Zong's founder, Yu Ji. Guang Long and Yu Ji had been sworn brothers in life and death, yet their descendants were now mortal enemies on the battlefield.

This was an irony, but the irony lay not in who was stronger or weaker, but in the cruelty of war and the decline of the world.

"Kill me." Hua Yun's arms hung limply, letting fresh blood flow down his arms. His hair was disheveled, his body covered in wounds, and his deep eyes were filled with dim light.

He had given up resistance, seeming to have no attachment to life. Life and death appeared meaningless to him.

As a descendant of Guang Long and once a true transmission disciple of Zhengyang Zong, he had been favored by all and was a proud son of heaven. He had his own pride, his own grand ambitions, and hoped to become as renowned as his ancestor.

However, when he saw his ancestor treated as a mere puppet for slaughter, he was disillusioned—with the sect he had sworn loyalty to. His aspirations and breadth of vision were nothing but a colossal joke in this turbid world.

Seeing Hua Yun like this, Liu Yi ultimately did not swing his killing sword.

He harbored no hatred for Hua Yun; he only saw the events of the three sects' tournament as youthful folly. There was no irreconcilable enmity between them.

Zing!

With a sharp ring from his sword, Liu Yi had already turned slightly, leaving behind only a faint voice:

"Our forebears were both renowned powerhouses who shook the heavens. As their descendants, that is our glory."

Upon hearing this, Hua Yun's body trembled, laughing bitterly with tears of blood streaming down his face. In the bloody wind, he knelt down powerlessly.

Liu Yi was merciful, and Nie Feng and the others also refrained from killing. War had brought them together on the battlefield, but it didn't absolutely mean endless enmity. Sometimes, a moment of mercy could change a person's life.

However, the war did not end because of Liu Yi and his companions' mercy.

The battle remained fierce, even more brutal than imagined. Within a hundred li radius, corpses littered the ground, and blood stained the skies and the earth.

Although many from Zhengyang Zong had submitted under Yang Zhen and Ji Ning Shuang's efforts, the combined forces of Zhengyang Zong and the Yinming army were still formidable, unlikely to be defeated in the short term.

Gazing up at the heavens, the ethereal void was covered by rolling black clouds like an ocean. Beneath the black clouds was a sea of thunder, and Ye Chen was in the midst of it.

This heavenly tribulation was laughably weak compared to the last one. The sea of thunder was like spiritual liquid to him, tempering his sacred body, while he swam through it like a dragon.

"Lord Dragon, this is a bit hard for me to get used to!" At some point, Ye Chen stopped and casually extinguished a bolt of lightning with a palm, looking puzzled at the Taixu Ancient Dragon in his divine sea.

The Taixu Ancient Dragon didn't respond, instead narrowing its dragon eyes as it gazed into the ethereal void.

"In the past, every tribulation left me half-dead from the strikes. This one's way too... too weak!" Ye Chen continued. "Not being scorched and torn apart by the lightning—I just don't feel right."

But as soon as he finished, the ethereal sky trembled.

Buzz!

A piercing buzz followed.

Looking up, he saw the dark clouds churning like a raging sea, with lightning flashing and thunder roaring, electric serpents darting about before converging rapidly.

Instinctively, Ye Chen narrowed his eyes and realized they were forming a vague human figure.

Zing!

Suddenly, a scorching and unmatched divine light shot out, so fast that he couldn't react, piercing straight through his powerful sacred body.

Damn!

Ye Chen spat blood from his mouth and retreated rapidly, Tianque Sword appearing in his hand as he stared intently in that direction. "Is this part of the heavenly tribulation and divine punishment? How can there be a humanoid punishment?"

Bang! Bang! Bang!

The void shook with rhythmic booms, like the sound of footsteps. Perhaps they were so heavy that they made the heavens rumble.

"That... that's..." Seeing the figure formed by the thunder, the Taixu Ancient Dragon in Ye Chen's divine sea showed an expression of utter disbelief.

"That's... that's..." Not just the Taixu Ancient Dragon—in the midst of the battlefield, whether it was the Hengyue Zhenren, Yang Ding Tian, or Chu Ling'er, Dongfang Yuling, and Liu Yi, everyone who saw the figure formed by the thunder changed their expressions at the same time.

"This... this..." Ye Chen, too, staggered back a step upon seeing the figure's true form, his eyes filled with the same disbelief.