Martial Arts Crossover: The Sweeping Monk of Wudang? That's our patriarch!

On the battlefield, the two powerful figures clashed fiercely—magical treasures shattered, flesh and blood flew everywhere, and supernatural powers exploded. A crimson rift was forcibly torn open in the sky, and the world fell silent.

The blood surged like a sea, and Lin Daochen's Vajra Pestle, carrying immense force, pierced straight into the core of the Liu family patriarch's primordial spirit. The void collapsed inch by inch, and even time seemed to be nailed to this moment.

Lin Daochen stood in the center of the blood mist and struck out with his palm. The sky cracked in response, and the scarlet energy surged endlessly, forming a Shura field where killing intent boiled.

He had just devoured the essence, blood, and marrow of a Heavenly Sensing Realm expert, and his blood cultivation had already reached the threshold of Heavenly Sensing, just one step away. His body was enveloped in a bone-chilling blood aura, and deep within his pupils burned an almost manic battle flame.

The Liu family patriarch's eyes narrowed sharply, a fleeting look of apprehension crossing his face. Even with his flesh and blood destroyed, leaving only the rules as his bones, the power of the laws residing within him remained as vast as an abyss. The spear in his hand hummed and trembled, his aura suddenly surging, like an enraged ancient lion, pouncing towards Lin Daochen with the force of thunder.

On the second floor of the Flying Immortal Teahouse, the young man in blue armor, Long Ze, gripped the railing tightly, his knuckles white. He had witnessed Lin Daochen shatter the air with a single strike and split a spear with a single palm, and his heart felt as if it had been struck by a heavy hammer. As the undisputed leader of the younger generation, he now felt a chill run down his spine—it wasn't just a difference in skill, it was a precipice.

"This person... is actually this strong!" His brows furrowed, his Adam's apple bobbed, and amidst his shock, jealousy quietly grew.

Nangong Piaomiao stood quietly to the side, her gaze lingering on Lin Daochen for a long time, her emotions churning and difficult to discern.

He breathed slowly, suppressing the turmoil in his heart. This young man was no ordinary person; if he could become an ally, he might be able to shake up the entire Northern Region.

Lin Daochen showed no fear, only a battle intent that could burn the eight wastelands surged through his blood. He raised his bloody hand again, and a bloody wind swept up a thousand layers of bloody blades, aiming straight for the face of the Liu family patriarch.

The Liu family patriarch snorted coldly like thunder, thrusting his spear forward. Thousands of silver, shimmering threads of law burst forth, tangling with the blood blade and exploding with a piercing shriek.

Above the Moon Palace, the air currents were already in complete chaos, the air scorching and distorted, the stench of blood thick and unbearable. In the instant the two clashed, even the wind seemed to forget to move. The battle had reached a point of no return, each breath taut like a snapping string.

Lin Daochen fought with his life on the line, unconstrained by any realm of cultivation—he traded injuries for injuries, risked his life for his life, and every punch and kick was a deadly strike. The Liu family patriarch, on the other hand, laid a trap, his laws intertwined like a spiderweb binding a dragon, intending to strangle Lin Daochen alive within it.

"You mere blood cultivator, do you think you're worthy to sit on equal footing with me?" The Liu family patriarch roared, his spear transforming into a pale white bolt of lightning that tore through the sky.

Lin Daochen's lips curled slightly as he swept his Vajra Pestle to meet the attack. A deafening roar erupted, sparks flew, and blood rained down like a waterfall.

His chest was churning with turbulent energy, yet he insisted on pushing it to its limit—the Vajra Pestle instantly ignited with dark divine flames, the light reflecting his sinister smile.

Just as the spearhead was about to strike, he ruthlessly swung his palm, snapping the spear in two and tearing off half of the Liu family patriarch's shoulder blade and tendons. Before the patriarch could even finish his scream, his entire right arm had been ripped off.

Lin Daochen spun like lightning, closing in on Liu's side. The Liu family patriarch frantically swung his arms to block, but Lin Daochen feinted, then swept his right leg down like a guillotine—his lower body exploded into a cloud of blood mist. Lin Daochen retaliated again, delivering a palm strike through Liu's heart, his fingertips already pressed against his own chest.

The Liu family patriarch looked down in astonishment, staring at his palm piercing through Lin Daochen's chest. Before he could recover, Lin Daochen suddenly exerted his strength, twisting his arms violently—two crisp cracking sounds rang out, and the bones in both arms broke off at the root, spurting blood three feet high.

Lin Daochen withdrew his arm, blood splattering into the air, but his eyes grew even calmer, like a cold pool. He stared at the mangled body, his voice low and hoarse: "The Heavenly Sensing Realm? Nothing more than that."

The Liu family patriarch trembled all over, finally realizing that the person before him was not there to compete for victory, but to take his life. His body was broken, his hair disheveled, and he could barely stand, yet he still stared intently at Lin Daochen, his eyes filled with disbelief and horror.

Lin Daochen raised his right leg again, sweeping across the area where the remaining body completely disintegrated. The primordial spirit fled in panic, but before it could reassemble, it was struck by a black flame, emitting a shrill scream. He stood with his hands behind his back, his blood-stained clothes fluttering, and coldly uttered a single sentence to the dissipating primordial spirit: "Crawl over here."

"You... dare to call yourself a strongman by using such despicable methods?" The Liu family patriarch roared hoarsely, his voice already trembling with sobs.

Lin Daochen calmly raised his hand, and the black flames at the tip of the Vajra Pestle surged, instantly igniting the billions of wronged souls in the sea of ​​blood—at that moment, the pressure emanating from his body far surpassed the Heavenly Sensation and approached the Netherworld.

The inky black flames rising from the Vajra Pestle, like living things, engulfed the sea of ​​blood and wronged souls, instantly igniting into a surging, endless ocean of black flames. Within the flames, the primordial spirit of the Liu family patriarch was torn and twisted, its mournful howls echoing through the void, as if lashed a thousand times by an invisible giant whip.

"Stop! Spare me—!" The voice was incoherent, only a dying sob remained. But the Vajra Pestle remained unmoved, the flames like a lock, strangling him inch by inch. Lin Daochen stood with his hands behind his back, his brows cold and stern, his gaze calm as an ancient well, waiting for the final moment to arrive.

His primordial spirit finally disintegrated in the raging flames, shattering into a wisp of green smoke that silently dissipated into the wind. Lin Daochen watched with lowered eyes, his expression unchanged. "The Liu family is wiped out from this day forward," those four words were like a knife, severing a century-old foundation—before the words had even finished, the entire divine city trembled and hummed incessantly.

"From this day forward, the Liu family lineage ceases to exist in the Divine City!" Lin Daochen's voice boomed like thunder, each word striking like a thunderclap, causing the rooftops to tremble and hearts to race. Countless people looked up in silence; this duel had completely overturned the old chessboard of the Divine City.

The sea of ​​blood slowly receded, and the wronged souls, cleansed by the black flames, transformed into specks of golden light and ascended into the sky; the heavens returned to clarity, the clouds were light and the wind was gentle, but the hearts of the people remained unsettled for a long time. This battle was destined to be etched into history, passed down from generation to generation.

Lin Daochen stood still, his gaze sweeping over the scorched earth and ruins. This battle had exhausted his strength and tempered his body—he was no longer the lone cultivator he once was, but now an insurmountable figure at the pinnacle of the divine city.

Yet there was no arrogance in his eyes, only an unextinguished flame, blazing and sharp, as if to burn through all obstacles in his path. Victory was not the end, but the tolling of bells to ring at higher mountain gates. He knew that in this world where the strong tread the path of life, to stop was to fall into the abyss.

The divine city fell silent for a moment, even the wind seemed to slow its pace. In the lingering stillness, a silver-gray figure silently darted to Lin Daochen's side—the Lightning Leopard appeared with silent steps, its amber pupils slightly contracted, a hint of alertness and probing in its gaze.

Lin Daochen raised his hand to stroke the short mane on its forehead, his smile gentle: "Rest now, you've won."

Lightning Leopard purred softly, nuzzled his palm, swayed its tail gently, and looked at him with unwavering certainty.

However, the commotion in the city had barely subsided when an even fiercer wave suddenly surged forth. The name Lin Daochen rolled across the streets, markets, high platforms, and secret chambers like thunder, resounding in everyone's ears—one man destroyed a clan, one pestle wiped out an ancestor, and a new legend of the divine city was forged.

But Lin Daochen did not acquire any worldly fame.

After the battle, he closed his eyes and concentrated, repeatedly analyzing every move, every breath, and every oversight. Beyond victory and defeat, he saw that his thin blade was still lacking sharpness, and he also saw clearly that the long road ahead was much steeper and darker than he had imagined.

When the people looked up at him, they did so with awe, calling him the "World-Suppressing Demon Lord," saying that he could split mountains with a wave of his hand and settle the world with a glance. But Lin Daochen knew in his heart: this was just one step of stone; above, there were many more peaks yet to be climbed.

He turned his head to look at the Lightning Leopard, his eyes reflecting the morning light and an unwavering determination.

After the battle, he stood in the center of the scorched battlefield, his spine as straight as a pine tree, his eyes like a cold pool. Yang Kai stood to his side with his hands at his sides, his breathing light and his shoulders slightly tense—having swallowed the Heavenly Ghost, his cultivation had leaped to the Heavenly Sensing Realm, but every time he caught a glimpse of the afterimage of the black leopard walking through the air, he still couldn't help but feel a tightness in his spine.

Suddenly, Lin Daochen's eyes snapped open, his gaze bursting like stars, piercing straight into the depths of the void. The next instant, an old man in a green robe appeared out of thin air, his clothes motionless, yet his aura flowed like a deep ancient pool. He held a mottled ancient bottle in his hand, his brows etched with the tranquility of ten thousand years.

"Lin Daochen, the Liu family has been destroyed, and the Divine City has been renewed. Congratulations." The old man spoke with a smile, his voice seemingly seeping from an ancient crack in the stone, deep and resonant.

Lin Daochen clasped his hands and bowed, saying, "Thank you for your kind words, senior."

The old man's gaze shifted slightly, landing on Yang Kai. His smile was faint yet warm: "Yang Kai, the Heavenly Ghost has entered your body, your fortune has changed. Walk this path carefully."

Yang Kai's throat tightened, and he hurriedly cupped his hands in greeting, his fingertips trembling slightly, but his heart was burning with excitement—who exactly was this old man?

The old man's gaze shifted again, landing on the Lightning Leopard, a genuine interest flashing in his eyes: "Little fellow, there's a rebellious streak in your bones."

Lin Daochen smiled and said, "Its name is Lightning Leopard, and it has helped me through many dangerous situations."

The old man nodded, and the ancient bottle in his palm suddenly emitted a soft light. A warm yet vast aura quietly spread out, seemingly able to illuminate the most hidden patterns deep within the soul.

"Your foundation is solid, your companion beast is extraordinary, and your future is promising." The old man handed over the bottle, his tone calm yet carrying immense weight.

Lin Daochen accepted the bottle with both hands; it was slightly warm, and inside seemed to flow a river of stars. He looked up as if to ask a question, but the old man had already smiled and shaken his head—

"This is a small token of the Nangong family's goodwill, hoping that you will rise to great heights and live up to the expectations of the nation."

Lin Daochen felt a surge of emotion. The Nangong family's foundation was so deep that they could easily command someone like Tianlangzi. He did not underestimate the old man; on the contrary, he was quite intrigued by this "Tianlangzi," personally appointed by the Nangong family.

Before the words were even finished, Tianlangzi arrived on the wind, his green robe fluttering in the breeze, his steps as light as if he were walking on clouds. A slight smile played on his lips, his words sharp and piercing, each one pointing directly at Lin Daochen's weaknesses—as if Lin Daochen could do the job ten times over and still not be able to match his skill once.

"Lin Daochen, you do have some skill, but I, Tianlangzi, am also a formidable figure in the Divine City. The Nangong family's influence isn't something you can just boast about." His voice was like the clash of metal, resounding and unwavering.

Lin Daochen's gaze was calm: "The Nangong family has an astonishing foundation, and I admire your confidence. But there's no need to be too certain; ultimately, victory or defeat will depend on your skills."

A glint of fire flashed in Tianlangzi's eyes, but he swallowed his words. The old man, on the other hand, lowered his eyes and smiled faintly, a smile that concealed three parts inscrutableness and seven parts profound meaning.

He spoke eloquently, showing no fear in front of Lin Daochen, his gaze sharp as a hawk's, seemingly able to pierce the deepest, most hidden thoughts in a person's heart. Even though the man before him was a ruthless man who had killed the Liu family's patriarch, he remained upright and unyielding.