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Chapter 452 An Unexpected Surprise, Houtu Appears!!

Inside the original martial arts wall.

The sky was as dark as ink, and the heavy, oppressive clouds seemed within reach, making it hard to breathe.

Across the vast plains, smoke filled the air, and the pungent smell of burning, the thick stench of blood, and an indescribable putrid odor mingled together.

As wisps of black smoke, unwilling to dissipate, rose, they merged into the low-hanging clouds.

It made it even more filthy.

The land was in ruins, with corpses lying everywhere.

Broken armor, torn battle banners, and countless bizarre, blood-stained remains of ghouls piled together.

The surviving human soldiers stood back to back in twos and threes.

Or they might simply slump to the ground, panting heavily.

Their armor was riddled with cracks and deep claw marks, stained with a mixture of dark red and black blood, indistinguishable as to whether it belonged to their comrades, themselves, or those damned ghouls.

Everyone's face was etched with exhaustion.

His body trembled as if he were completely exhausted.

However, what stands in stark contrast to this horrific scene is their gaze.

There was no sadness or despair that should have been felt due to the large number of casualties among our comrades.

On the contrary, it was surprisingly bright.

Like charcoal burning in the dark.

It was filled with the exhilaration of surviving a catastrophe and an almost fanatical reverence.

The gaze of all survivors.

They all converged on the center of the battlefield without prior agreement.

There, a young figure stood alone.

He wore a slightly oversized, light blue outfit, the hem of which fluttered gently in the fishy breeze, yet remained spotless, standing out starkly from the surrounding blood-stained hell.

In his hand, he held a long, simple-looking sword.

The blade is long and narrow, with a dark red color that is almost black, as if it has drunk its fill of blood. At this moment, it is emitting a faint hum and a ferocious, savage aura that makes one's heart tremble.

It was Chi You's blade.

The young man tilted his head slightly, gazing at the distant horizon with a calm expression, as if he were admiring the scenery rather than having just emerged from a mountain of corpses and a sea of ​​blood.

This young man was none other than Fang Qingyu.

After being thrown into this meat grinder-like front-line battlefield by Yuan Tiangang and Li Chunfeng, the two celestial masters only gave him a concise word.

"kill".

The more you kill, the better.

Fang Qingyu carried out this simple and straightforward task without any psychological burden.

These corpse demons and life demons share the same origin and are both enemies of humanity.

Fang Qingyu showed no mercy in killing them.

And
Fang Qingyu also discovered a surprise.

These various corpse demons, which resembled the Death Demon but were not quite the same, could surprisingly provide him with valuable skill points after being killed.

The calculation method is exactly the same as that of modern fortune tellers.

what does this mean?
This means that on this ancient battlefield, every roaring, charging ghoul is no longer a simple enemy in his eyes, but a walking skill point supply pack.

It was the resources that propelled him to rapid promotion.

This discovery changed Fang Qingyu's mindset from simply completing a task.

They instantly became incredibly proactive.

Fang Qingyu didn't even need to use techniques like the Clear and Turbid Blade or the Return of All Things to the Flow to draw upon the power of heaven and earth.

With just the basic strength and speed of his Divine Prison Realm physical body, and the increasingly excited Chi You Blade in his hand, he could kill his way back and forth.

Wherever the figure went, a flash of blade appeared.

Then hordes of ghouls fell like harvested wheat.

Amidst the crisscrossing blade energy, severed limbs and black blood splattered everywhere.

He alone was like a tireless, terrifyingly efficient killing machine, relentlessly cutting through the surging army of ghouls, unstoppable in his path.

This was the result of just this one battle.

The number of corpses that died by his blade is well over 100,000.
It was precisely because of his godlike performance that the human defense line, which was originally on the verge of being overwhelmed by the ghoul torrent, was able to be stabilized.

And ultimately, they crushed this terrifying offensive.

At this moment, Fang Qingyu's mind sank into his sea of ​​consciousness.

His gaze fell upon the golden, shimmering pattern.

Skill Points: 8819

A heart-pounding number.

Fang Qingyu couldn't help but let a slight smile curl up at the corners of his mouth.

I am in a very good mood.

Even if the two Celestial Masters don't ultimately gain as much from the Primordial Martial Arts Arena as expected, the sheer amount of skill points gained from this trip is already a worthwhile investment.

Moreover, he already had a clear understanding of the lineage between Yuan Tiangang and Li Chunfeng.

During the extremely efficient killing process, Fang Qingyu noticed that with each corpse demon he killed, a subtle yet real insight would naturally emerge from the depths of his mind.

This insight is profound and mysterious; it is not based on specific texts or images of techniques.

It's more like a vague understanding and affinity for the energy of heaven and earth, feng shui patterns, and astrology.

It seemed to represent the culmination of the two celestial masters' lifelong learning and enlightenment.

It was broken down into the smallest units and integrated into the very essence of these ghouls' existence.

Each time he annihilates a ghoul, it's like breaking a tiny seal.

Absorb these insights, however small.

The more you kill, the more insights you absorb, and the deeper and more complete your understanding of the two Celestial Masters' legacy becomes.

This is practically a tailor-made way for him to pass on his legacy.

There's no need to sit in meditation and seek enlightenment, nor to spend a lifetime studying obscure and difficult classics.

He only needs to do what he does best.

Battle, slaughter.

Is there anything simpler than this?
Fang Qingyu even felt that if there were enough corpses here...

It is entirely possible that he did so before leaving the Martial Arts Arena.

He thoroughly digested and absorbed the legacy of the two legendary celestial masters, making it his own.

"However, the total number of ghouls here seems a bit small?"

Fang Qingyu frowned slightly as he gazed at the empty horizon in the distance, where only a few scattered remains of ghouls twitched.

An army of 100,000 ghouls sounds terrifying.

But in his experience fighting against the ghost of fate.

In particular, they had witnessed the million-strong Ghost Legion outside the Great Wall at Sea.

This number does seem rather inadequate.

If the ghouls are only this small, then the skill points and inherited insights he can obtain will probably soon reach their limit.

This left him with a slight sense of regret, as if he hadn't had enough.

He stood still, leaning on his knife.

They were waiting to see if the army of ghouls would have reinforcements.

And as if in response to his expectations
On the distant horizon, a thin black line appeared without warning on what was once an empty horizon.

The black line appeared extremely abruptly.

And it grows thicker rapidly at a speed visible to the naked eye.

Like thick ink dropped into clear water, it spreads rapidly.

Fang Qingyu's gaze sharpened; his extraordinary eyesight allowed him to see clearly in an instant.

That wasn't a charging line made up of ghouls.

It was fog!
A thick, black mist that couldn't be dispersed!
They seemed to possess life, tumbling and roaring, moving close to the ground yet connecting with the sky.

Like a black wave stretching to the heavens and the earth, it surged toward the battlefield that had just been quelled with overwhelming force.

Its momentum was immense and its scope vast.

It far surpassed the scene when the army of 100,000 ghouls charged just now.

Wherever it passed, light was swallowed up, sound was annihilated, leaving only a suffocating silence and chill.

"That is."

A hint of surprise flashed in Fang Qingyu's eyes.

The black mist gave him a completely different feeling than the ghouls he had encountered before.

More cohesive, more eerie, and more dangerous.

Just then, not far away...

A somewhat weak but urgent voice rang out:
"Be careful, sir! That's the Ghost King, unique to the army of corpse demons!"

Fang Qingyu turned his head to look at the sound.

The speaker was an old soldier who was supporting himself with half a broken spear shaft.

He looks quite old.

His face was etched with the marks of hardship and exhaustion. His left arm was severed at the shoulder, and the wound had only been roughly bandaged. Dark red blood continued to seep out, staining the tattered shoulder armor a mess.

His aura was weak, clearly indicating that he was at his last gasp.

But the look in his eyes as he gazed at the black mist was filled with deep apprehension.

Seeing Fang Qingyu looking at him, the veteran straightened his back a little and explained with all his might:

"My lord, these corpse demons are extremely evil! When the number of deaths reaches 100,000, the residual death energy, resentment, and that strange, cold power they retain will not dissipate, but will instead gather on their own."

He took a breath, a look of lingering fear on his face: "A terrifying ghost king will surely be born in this fog! Its strength will far surpass that of ordinary corpse demon generals!"

"Moreover, this fog itself can erode the life force of living beings, confuse their minds, and even transform recently deceased corpses into new zombies! Therefore, the zombie army is generally divided into 'thresholds' of 100,000. Once this threshold is crossed, a Ghost King must appear. My lord, you must not underestimate it."

It turned out to be the case.

Fang Qingyu suddenly realized.

One unit costs 100,000; after death, the accumulated resentment transforms into a ghost king.

This is similar to the phenomenon in modern ghost stories where the death of a large number of low-level ghosts can give rise to more powerful individuals, only the form is more bizarre.

His gaze fell once again on the old soldier's horrific wounds and his paper-white face, and his brows furrowed slightly.

In his perception, the old soldier's life force was rapidly slipping away.

It has reached the point of exhaustion.

He's holding on with sheer willpower.

Fang Qingyu didn't say anything, but simply walked over.

Under the somewhat bewildered and flattered gaze of the veteran, he slowly squatted down.

He stretched out his right hand, his palm fair and slender, standing out starkly from the bloody surroundings.

Then, it was gently placed over the still-bleeding wound on the veteran's severed arm.

The veteran's body trembled involuntarily, as if he wanted to dodge, but he forced himself to hold it in.

The next moment, he felt an indescribable warm current slowly flowing from the other person's palm into his painful wound, and then quickly spreading to his limbs and bones.

Where the warm current passed, the unbearable pain vanished as quickly as ice and snow meeting the sun, replaced by a tingling and indescribable feeling of comfort.

What shocked him even more was that the bleeding from the severed arm, which had been unstoppable, stopped instantly.

The muscle tissue at the edge of the wound visibly began to contract and scab over. Although the limb failed to regenerate, the deadly bleeding was completely contained.

A faint but real life force was reawakened from the depths of his withered body.

The veteran suddenly raised his head, looking incredulously at the young man before him, whose strength was as great as that of a god or demon.

His eyes instantly reddened, and hot tears mingled with the blood on his face, sliding down his cheeks. His lips trembled, and he was so agitated that he could barely speak coherently.

"Thank you so much, sir! Thank you so much for saving my life! I am so grateful!"

This is simply a miracle.

He originally thought he was going to die, and even if he managed to survive the battlefield, he would definitely not survive the subsequent injuries and infections.

did not expect.
Fang Qingyu withdrew his hand, his expression calm, as if he had only done a trivial matter.

He patted the veteran's blood-stained shoulder, his voice steady:
"Take those who can still move and retreat as far as possible."

He paused, his gaze returning to the terrifying black mist that was drawing ever closer, seemingly poised to devour everything. His tone was calm yet undeniably authoritative:
"Leave the Ghost King to me."

After saying that, Fang Qingyu did not linger.

He stood up and gripped the Chi You Blade tightly in his hand.

On the blade, the dark red rust seemed to come alive, pulsating slightly and radiating an increasingly hungry and excited ferocious aura.

He took a step, unhurried yet with unwavering determination.

Alone, he faced the overwhelming tide of black fog.

Behind him, countless gazes were fixed on him.

The soldiers who survived the ordeal looked at the tall, straight figure in green, going against the current, and at the dark red longsword in his hand that exuded an ominous and powerful aura.

The fervor and reverence in his eyes were almost tangible.

……

at the same time.

outside world.

The Great Wall at Sea, A7 Theater.

On the top of the wall, there were everyone, led by Wei Banmeng, Xiao Jiu, and Chu Kuanglan.

Still immersed in the inexplicable grief brought by the strange phenomenon of crying that day and the shock brought by the earth-shattering battle after the crack in the sky.

The five newly arrived fifth-tier generals of the Federation had solemn expressions, their auras held back, and they were locked onto the chaotic airspace above.

There, the young Heavenly Emperor stood alone against dozens of gods.

The atmosphere was tense and a war was about to break out.

Jiang Wei's sudden appearance and her words made everyone's hearts leap into their throats.

Is that person going to make a move again?
at this time.

The sudden appearance of that oppressive aura.

It has finally arrived.

The laws of the entire universe seemed to be wailing and surrendering.

All living beings, whether human soldiers on the Great Wall, or gods confronting each other in the sky, even including the five fifth-tier generals.

At this moment, everyone felt a tremor and a sense of insignificance originating from the deepest part of their soul.

It's as if ants are gazing up at the sky, and mayflies are facing the vast ocean.

Under this absolute pressure that suffocates all things.

far away.

The other side of the sky opposite that terrifying rift.

A figure was slowly and steadily walking through the air.

She wore a simple, elegant palace dress with a flowing hem that seemed to shimmer with moonlight and starlight.

His face was indistinct, shrouded in a hazy halo, but his eyes were clear and calm, as if reflecting the eternal cycle of reincarnation and all things in the world.

She walked slowly and gracefully.

Every step I took felt like stepping on the pulse of the entire world.

It subtly rivals the terrifying will descending from the depths of that rift.

Her appearance immediately drew the attention of everyone who could still think.

"Who is that?"

Chu Kuanglan asked with difficulty, his voice hoarse.

No one could answer.

Only Jiang Wei, with her ruby-like eyes, quietly gazed at the figure in palace attire, and softly revealed the other's identity:

"Hou Tu Huang Di Qi".

"One of the six emperors."

(End of this chapter)