If the sect doesn't accept geniuses, they will become giants once they leave?

Chapter 445 I Bet You Dare Not Launch a Wild Monster Tide
In this ancient wasteland, shrouded in thick, dark clouds, the sky seems perpetually low, suffocating. The clouds swirl, occasionally piercing through with eerie, dark red light, like blood seeping from a torn sky. The land is fragmented into eight distinct, extreme environments, each intertwined yet incompatible, creating a strong sense of dissonance, as if the land were forcibly stitched together by some unknown force.

The first area was a land of scorching lava, where crimson magma flowed like winding rivers, the air was filled with the pungent smell of sulfur, and the ground was cracked, spewing out scorching air. However, adjacent to it was a frozen wasteland, where glaciers towered into the clouds, a cold wind howled, and snowflakes and the heat of the magma collided in the air, forming an eerie mist.

The third area is an endless desert, with yellow sand filling the sky and dunes undulating like waves. The air is distorted by the scorching sun. Adjacent to it is a dense rainforest, with towering trees and entwined vines. The humid air is filled with the chirping of insects and the low growls of wild animals, as if unknown creatures might pounce from the shadows at any moment.

The fifth area was a poisonous swamp, filled with purple mist. Bubbles occasionally emerged from the mud, emitting a sickening stench when they burst. Adjacent to it was a barren Gobi desert, with jagged rocks and no grass. Only the wind blew up the sand and stones, making a sharp whistling sound.

The seventh area was a thunderstorm plain. Lightning and thunder roared across the sky, and purple lightning continuously struck the ground, leaving the charred earth covered with huge cracks. The final area was a silent lake. The water was as black as ink, and the surface was calm, yet it gave people an unfathomable sense of fear, as if some all-consuming monster lurked beneath the water.

These eight extreme environments intertwine yet incompatible, like fragments forcibly pieced together. Thick, dark clouds shroud the land, oppressive and dreary, as if warning any who enter: This is not the mortal realm, but a realm controlled by an ancient, unknowable force. Every step is filled with a sense of dissonance, as if the land itself resists any attempt to understand it.

This is the Eight Desolations, the forbidden zone of life, and also the great achievement of the Emperor of the Eight Desolations.

And in this ancient land, torn apart by eight extreme environments, a solemn army slowly marched. Their armor, forged from an unknown metal, was engraved with ancient runes, gleaming with a dark light, as if resonating with the mysterious power of this land. The soldiers' faces were obscured by their heavy helmets, revealing only pairs of cold eyes, their gazes sharp as knives, radiating an endless determination and murderous aura.

The army's flag fluttered beneath the low-hanging clouds. Embroidered across it was a massive mythical beast, neither dragon nor eagle, its eyes blazing like torches, seemingly able to penetrate the barriers of time and space. The edges of the flag were torn by the wind, yet it still fluttered high, a symbol of the army's unyielding will.

When the army passed through the Black Lake, countless bubbles suddenly appeared on the silent lake surface, and a corrupt hand with a sinister aura suddenly stretched out and grabbed the army.

The soldier stared intently as a cold snort echoed from the sky. A blinding golden light burst forth from the depths of the clouds, like a roar between heaven and earth. Immediately afterwards, a massive sword blade pierced through the clouds and plummeted downward. The blade was as broad as a mountain ridge, its edge gleaming with a chilling light. Ancient characters were painted on the blade, dancing like offerings to the gods.

The greatsword and the corrupted hand met in mid-air, emitting a resounding, earth-shattering roar. The sword's edge sliced into the hand without resistance, and the rotten flesh and bones were as fragile as paper under the blade. Black liquid spurted out, but was evaporated by the light the moment it touched the sword.

The giant sword continued to fall, completely severing the entire arm. The severed arm fell into the Black Lake, stirring up a huge black wave. The lake water violently churned, as if roaring in anger, but there was nothing it could do.

The giant sword finally pierced the bottom of the lake, and the light of the sword gradually dissipated, leaving only the ancient words flickering faintly above the lake.

The soldiers looked quietly at the giant sword standing in the lake like an eternal monument, and did not feel a bit of joy for this victory.

But in just a few breaths, the clouds that were swept away by the sword blocked the light like a drawn curtain, and the boiling black water swallowed up all the ancient characters. The giant sword that seemed like an eternal monument seemed to have gone through ten thousand years in an instant, decaying and breaking at a speed visible to the naked eye, and finally collapsed into part of the black water. Its final contribution seemed to be the few ripples that appeared.

A hoarse voice sounded from the lake.

"Marquis Bahuang, how long can you suppress us?"

A cold and ruthless voice, as cold as the law of nature, sounded.

"Until you are completely gone."

This cold answer did not have any deterrent effect, but instead attracted ridicule, "Li Huang, do you think that you can really become the Eight Desolations Emperor just because you were named the Eight Desolations Marquis? Do you think you can do what even the Eight Desolations Emperor couldn't do? The Eight Desolations Marquis is just an excuse for Emperor Yu to trap you here forever!" Amidst the sharp ridicule, the black water boiled again, and strange-looking monsters emerged from it.

The soldiers' eyes showed some emotion, and one of them blew the horn.

At the sound of the ancient and heavy horn, the soldiers turned around and raised their shields at the same time.

"Marquis Bahuang, this year's wave of wild monsters will kill all of you."

"Really? I bet you don't dare to unleash the Desolate Demon Tide. Do you dare to bet?" Li Huang sneered, "If you do, I will immediately resign as Marquis of the Eight Desolations and return to Baidi City to retire. If you lose, give me a Desolate Bone!"

"Hahahaha——Li Huang, do you think I'm stupid?"

"I swear by the heavens."

The voice paused for a few seconds before letting out a shrill laugh. "Alright, alright—as expected of the Marquis of Eight Desolations, you're so arrogant! I'm going to unleash the Eight Desolations Tide today. I want to see if you can withstand the thunder tribulation while fending off my desolate monster!"

Not only the Black Lake, but the other seven wastelands were also boiling, as if the entire Eight Wastelands had come alive.

Li Huang smiled leisurely and said calmly, "This year's Daoist competition has been scheduled in the Eight Wastelands. They have promised me that if anything happens in the Eight Wastelands, the millions of Daoist sects will have to take action."

As soon as the words fell, the thick clouds began to collapse under the impact of the sunset glow, and the curtain covering the sky seemed to be torn apart by an invisible hand, revealing a brilliant sky.

Just as the clouds dispersed, seventy-two huge ancient ships slowly emerged from the sunset glow. Their hulls were cast from ancient wood and metal, and their surfaces were covered with mottled moss and vines.

Behind these seventy-two ancient ships, countless small ships poured down like a meteor shower.

"...Ugh! Ahhh! Marquis Bahuang has great skills! I never thought you would dare to go deep into Bahuang and fight me for three hundred rounds. This time you win! This desolate bone is yours!"

The land of the Eight Wastelands quickly returned to peace, like a child who had been punched in the chin and fell asleep peacefully.

At the same time, a finger emitting a desolate aura flew out and nailed into the ground, with the fingertip pointing upwards, standing upright stubbornly.

That's a middle finger.

(End of this chapter)