Primordial Era: Starting with Self-Created Mythical Great Luo Law

This is a ruthless move that cuts off the enemy's lifeline!

boom--!

In an instant, crimson-gold flames rained down from the sky, scorching waves surged, burning away the dust and drying up the void!

Chen Yu was engulfed in raging flames, his bones and muscles were as if forged from molten gold, and he was like a fallen sun, his blazing light eclipsing the world.

The Buddha's pupils contracted sharply as he stared intently at the blazing figure. His throat tightened—this was no mere upstart; he was clearly the long-dormant God of Fire!

How could this be? His voice was strained, the last syllable trembling slightly, and that long-lost wavering was slowly eroding his unbreakable Buddhist heart.

Without hesitation, Chen Yu's spear tip pierced the air, the Heavenly Fiend Spear, wrapped in a frost-like killing intent, went straight for the Buddha's heart!

The Buddha hurriedly swung his Chaos Demon Blade to block, but the blade hummed and trembled before the spear's force, as if it could not bear the weight.

Wherever the spear blade passed, the air hissed and cracked, its cold gleam flickering like a venomous snake's tongue.

A flicker of fear crossed the eyes of the Buddha—it wasn't the oppressive aura of a cultivator, but the chilling, bloody wind of a prehistoric beast tearing apart its prey!

Chen Yu's eyes were as cold as ice that had been frozen for a thousand years. He was single-minded, with only one thought: to slay the Buddha and protect his master!

He concentrated all his energy into one, and without the slightest hesitation, thrust the tip of his spear straight into the Buddha's chest!

In an instant, the wind stopped, the clouds stopped, all was silent, and even time held its breath, leaving only two figures facing each other on the brink of life and death.

A sudden chill ran through the Buddha's chest. Looking down, he saw that the Heavenly Fiend Spear was halfway embedded in his skin, blood splattering like cinnabar splashing across the sky. The chill of death crept up his spine from the spear tip; before a cold sweat even broke out, his soul trembled.

Chen Yu remained expressionless, his wrist sinking as the spear tip pierced the Buddha's core. Hot blood gushed out, staining his robes and reddening the scorched earth.

"You are nothing special." Chen Yu's voice was as cold and hard as iron. His gaze swept over the Buddha's unfocused eyes, without a ripple in his heart.

The Buddha's body gradually faded into nothingness, finally turning into a wisp of green smoke that dissipated in the wind. Chen Yu released his spear, turned around, his robes fluttering, and slowly walked towards the Tongtian Sect Leader.

The Tongtian Sect Leader stood still, his gaze as gentle as spring water, yet he could not conceal the surging admiration and relief in his eyes.

He saw it clearly—this child was truly capable of upholding the backbone of the Zhuxian Sword Formation and safeguarding the foundation of the Jiejiao Sect.

"My disciple, well done." His voice was deep and warm, his smile radiant with trust and pride.

Chen Yu's lips curled up slightly, the smile not reaching his eyes, but already etched into his brows.

He knew that today's victory was not the end, but the first threshold to step into the depths of the primordial wilderness. His battle robe was still hot, and the blood still lingered. He stood in the center of the scorched earth, his eyes like tempered black iron, calm, sharp, and unyielding.

He looked back at his master, nodded and smiled, unassuming yet possessing immense power. The Tongtian Sect Leader gazed at his upright back, his satisfaction mixed with anticipation—this child was no longer a fledgling eagle, but a thunder roc capable of cleaving through the clouds of tribulation.

"My disciple, you have already attained the courage of the Great Dao and revealed the sharpness of the Jie Sect."

"But the vast wilderness is filled with perilous peaks and lurking demons; the great calamity has not yet ended. The road ahead is long, and we must hold our swords steadfastly." His master's voice was not loud, but each word was like a bell, striking deep into Chen Yu's heart.

Chen Yu lowered his eyes, clasped his hands in a fist salute, his shoulders as steady as a mountain. He understood that this was not praise, but the mark of passing on the torch; not commendation, but the burning sense of responsibility within the bloodline of the Jie Sect.

Even if the road ahead is fraught with countless tribulations and hardships, he will still brave the flames, his sword pointing towards the vast expanse, to protect his sect and uphold the true path.

Suddenly, the sky darkened in the far distance, and a tyrannical aura swept in, causing the earth to groan and the grass and trees to bow their heads.

Chen Yu suddenly looked up and saw a black shadow tearing through the sky, carrying the force of thunder, rushing towards him.

"Who comes from?" The Tongtian Sect Leader frowned slightly. His aura was both strange and familiar, like an old mark that had been sealed by the dust of time but had never been extinguished.

The figure crashed onto the battlefield like a meteor, appearing with a scorching shockwave—armor covering his body, a giant sword planted on the ground, gleaming coldly, and a murderous aura surging between his brows, as if he had returned from an ancient battlefield, treading through blood.

"Master Tongtian, Chen Yu, I am a special envoy of Western Buddhism, here to personally deliver this message by order of the Buddha." Before the words were finished, the sound was as loud as a bronze bell, cold and hard as iron.

Chen Yu's pupils contracted sharply, his back tensed, and his fingertips quietly gripped the gun barrel. Western Buddhism? Sent by the Buddha himself?

His throat tightened, and the surrounding air seemed to be sucked out, even the wind stopped, leaving only the wailing of the battle flag fluttering in the wind.

"Speak." The Tongtian Sect Leader's voice was deep and rumbling like thunder rolling across the earth, his gaze like a tempered steel blade, piercing straight into the other's eyes, showing no sign of backing down.

The envoy slowly raised his head, a slight smile playing on his lips, but without a trace of warmth, only a cold laugh that seemed to freeze the world: "The Buddha has decreed—the primordial world urgently needs purification, a new order must be established, and the moral order must be restored. Your power is overwhelming, and you have become a source of chaos. You should have your edge tempered and your hands restrained."

The Tongtian Sect Leader's brows furrowed sharply, and the veins on his forehead throbbed.

Chen Yu felt a buzzing in his ears and his blood rushing to his head. The sand and gravel beneath his feet cracked silently—the aura of an impending great battle was sharper than a blade and colder than frost and snow.

He stared intently at the figure beneath the golden robe, a seasoned awareness churning within him: the Buddha's intervention was never merely a message; this "edict" was truly the final rumble before the storm.

"Buddha...what do you want?" Tongtian Jiaozhu asked, his voice low but enough to make the entire wasteland hold its breath.

A hint of mockery flashed in the envoy's eyes as he slowly twirled the prayer beads in his palm: "Immediately withdraw your troops, disperse your forces, destroy the weapon-refining furnace, and destroy the mountain-protecting formation—if you refuse, within three days, the Thunderous Golden Pestle will crush the gates of Biyou Palace."

Chen Yu felt a burning sensation in his chest, a surge of anger rising to his head, his blood rushing to his ears. How could he allow others to lash out and criticize the century-old reputation of his sect?

He stepped forward, his boots crushing the scorched earth, his voice resolute: "Master, your disciple is willing to be the sword's edge, to sever their falsehoods and shatter their illusions!"

The Tongtian Sect Leader glanced sideways, his gaze sweeping over Chen Yu's blood-stained sleeve, taut jaw, and burning eyes—it wasn't the recklessness of a young man, but the clear, resonant roar of a longsword drawn from its sheath.

His Adam's apple bobbed slightly, and he finally nodded, his sleeves fluttering as if a thousand pounds of force had taken root in the ground.

"My disciple, no matter how steep the road, I will walk alongside you."

Before the words were finished, the sky suddenly darkened, black clouds surged like ink, and a gale whipped up broken halberds and tattered flags, howling like ghosts wailing. The envoy sneered, and his aura exploded outwards, as if an ancient mountain had risen from the ground and pressed heavily down on the earth.

"The decision-making period is only three days away." He spoke each word like a nail, each word piercing into the rock, leaving no room for doubt.

Chen Yu drew his Heavenly Fiend Spear with a backhand motion, the tip of the spear trembling and emitting a cold light. He stood tall on the edge of the cliff, his battle robes fluttering like fire, his gaze burning like torches—this battle was not only for survival, but also for the righteous path to remain steadfast and the flame of justice to never be extinguished.

Bugles ripped through the sky, war drums shook the mountains and rivers. Chen Yu leaped down the high slope, his figure like an arrow released from a bow, heading straight for the center of the storm.

Behind him lay the thousand-year-old tradition of his sect; before him, the fury of thunder descended from the heavens.