A dark-purple vortex pierced the heavens and the earth.
Pure malevolent intent rippled outward, spreading from the vortex like waves.
Space itself seemed to freeze; even the howling gale-force winds were suppressed.
The ravaged land below was swept by the ripple, and in that instant, shattered rocks and dust were ground into powder.
Distant surviving mountain peaks were sliced cleanly in half, as though cleaved by a scythe—smooth cross-sections gleaming like mirrors beneath the eerie sky.
Facing the onrushing dark-purple ripple, Chen Xin, Gu Rong, Dugu Bo, Feng Bailong, Yu Yuanzhen, the First Marquis, and the Dark Demon Evil God Tiger—seven top-tier experts at the Titled Douluo level—acted simultaneously.
In an instant,
Sword light crisscrossed, serpent shadows writhed, dragon roars shook the land, and the brilliance of Spirit Power Abilites illuminated half the sky.
BOOM—!!!!
A heaven-shaking explosion rang out.
The dark-purple ripple slowly dissipated.
Yet Chen Xin, Dugu Bo, and the others were blasted back over a thousand meters, blood spilling from the corners of their mouths.
They lifted their heads in horror, staring toward the core of the dark-purple vortex—at that figure radiating boundless pressure and evil. Their bodies trembled uncontrollably.
If it were said that…
Limit Douluo were still within the limits of what they could comprehend—
Then the Bibi Dong before them now…
Her aura had already transcended the limits of imagination.
Chen Xin rasped hoarsely:
"Bibi Dong has become a god."
They looked again toward the sky.
Before the towering vortex that stood above heaven and earth, the white-robed youth appeared incomparably small—and profoundly lonely.
"Zhexian!"
"You've already done everything you could!"
"It's just that… fate is not on our side!"
"We—and Heaven Dou—thank you for protecting us with your life!"
"Leave quickly!"
Their anxious voices carried an indescribable sorrow.
...
On the battlefield below,
the Spirit Hall army was still reeling from the shock of a Limit Douluo powerhouse's fall and the Pope's ascension to godhood.
Meanwhile, hundreds of thousands of soldiers of the Heaven Dou Empire lifted their faces in unison, gazing at Li Zhexian.
On those dark, weathered faces, stained by the smoke of war, there was no fear—only reverence.
Bang—!
No one knew who began it.
The soldiers performed Heaven Dou's highest salute, slamming their right fists heavily against their chest armor, producing a thunderous boom.
"Thank you, Lord Sword Wine!"
"Please, Lord Sword Wine, withdraw from the battlefield at once!"
Though their Spirit Power power was weak, they were not blind to reason.
Everyone could see clearly…
This youngest Titled Douluo in history could have roamed freely across heaven and earth, far from this slaughter.
Yet for a single conviction in his heart, he faced two Limit Douluo head-on, fighting to this point without retreating even half a step.
The Heaven Dou Empire…
owed this youth far too much.
Zhu Zhuqing, Dugu Yan, Ye Lingling… Yu Tianheng and the others were frantic with worry.
They, too, wished for Li Zhexian to temporarily avoid a god's edge.
Yet as his friends…
they all understood.
Li Zhexian would never retreat.
It was almost ironic.
A carefree wanderer like Li Zhexian—
who wished only to be a clear wind brushing past mountains, unburdened by the world—
yet whose heart was like a drizzle falling into the vast sea, entangled everywhere.
The most free-spirited Spirit Power,
was also the one most deeply bound.
Amid a pile of corpses,
a Spirit Power master's eyes were reddened—whether by the stench of blood or by the grief in his heart, none could tell.
His brush hovered above the paper, unable to fall.
Tap—
Tap—
Drops of thick ink splashed onto the blank margins, blooming into chaotic stains.
He trembled as he reached out, wanting to turn to a new page—
only to realize
this was already the last one.
The terrifying aura that transcended mortal limits whipped Li Zhexian's hair wildly, brushing past his pale, refined face.
He heard the anxious and concerned pleas of his seniors, Chen Xin and the others.
He heard the solemn, sincere entreaties of hundreds of thousands of Heaven Dou soldiers.
He could also feel the sorrowful yet powerless gazes of Zhu Zhuqing and the others.
But…
He could not retreat.
Once he had chosen to step into this war, he had never intended to leave himself a way out.
Li Zhexian was, at heart, nothing more than a rootless piece of duckweed drifting through a foreign world.
He had once believed that what would accompany him for life
were only his sword and his wine,
and the joys and sorrows of others within the jianghu.
Yet he had not expected this.
He, too, had fallen into the ten-meter depths of mortal attachment
He once took heaven and earth as a passing inn, wandering at will;
yet now he regarded the human world as home, his thoughts bound to its lights.
"So what if you are a god?"
Li Zhexian drew his sword.
Clang—!
A clear, ringing sword cry tore through the air, momentarily dispersing the evil miasma that filled the surroundings.
Along his spine were twelve nodes of sword bone; at this moment, nine of them had already been forged entirely from sword intent.
Nine Qinglian Swords, manifested from pure sword intent, revolved around his body.
Since ancient times, nine had been the ultimate number.
In truth—
from the moment the tenth sword bone began to form, it had already extended toward the spiritual platform within his head.
"If I could comprehend the tenth sword…"
"Perhaps I could truly contend with a god."
A thought tinged with faint regret passed quietly through his heart.
Around him,
starlight shimmered, ice and fire intertwined, gentle winds stirred…
as if the long river of time itself were spilling forth at this instant.
Countless miraculous phenomena framed him, making him appear like an immortal of the sword.
Boom—!!!!!!!!!
As though provoked by Li Zhexian's defiance,
the slowly rotating dark-purple vortex suddenly came to a halt.
In the next instant,
the vortex violently contracted,
transforming into a pillar of dark-purple light that surged straight into the heavens.
The blood clouds drawn from thousands of miles away by the fall of the Slaughter King were blasted apart and annihilated by this god-imbued beam.
The heavens and earth wailed beneath this aura.
The sky, which had briefly brightened as the blood clouds dispersed, darkened once more.
Above,
countless flecks of murky matter drifted down like the ash of burned paper, falling in rustling sheets.
This was a phenomenon caused by the concentration of evil qi in the world growing so dense that it condensed into physical form.
Beneath the dim, inverted sky—
At the core of the slowly constricting dark-purple pillar—
A figure appeared.
Slender and graceful in appearance, yet somehow giving the impression of infinite height, as though filling heaven and earth.
"Li Zhexian."
Her voice—icy cold, laced with a twisted delight—rolled thunderously across the world.
"My ascension to godhood is truly thanks to you."
She seemed quite satisfied with her current state, raising a palm before her eyes, turning it back and forth to examine it closely.
Then—
Across the distant void—
She reached out toward Li Zhexian.
That slender arm broke through the limits of space, extending endlessly.
And that palm, swelling rapidly as it reached forth, instantly grew vast as a heavenly canopy—
Lines and textures clear as ravines—
Bearing supreme might capable of plucking stars and grasping moons, descending toward Li Zhexian's head.
At this moment, Bibi Dong had not yet fully completed her ascension; she should be considered still in the process of becoming a god.
But even so—
the power displayed by this single grasp
had already far surpassed the limits of a Limit Douluo level.
The colossal palm blotted out the sky, covering dozens of miles in every direction.
Within Li Zhexian's eyes, the glaze sword mark spun rapidly.
With the Spirit Power Ability Mirage Sword Reflection, he could have attempted to evade.
But behind him…
stood his seniors, his friends, and hundreds of thousands of soldiers of the Heaven Dou Empire.
"Killing God Domain."
"Three Swords of Elegance."
"Wine Boils, Sword Sings."