ACSP: Chapter 229: Powerful Kill!
After isolating the reality that Zhao Quan was nothing more than a delicate flower meticulously raised in a greenhouse, a sharp, predatory glint flashed in Jiang Chen's eyes. Without a microsecond of hesitation, he instantly reoriented his entire target lock, funneling 100% of his offensive output directly onto the panicked scion.
"Kagutsuchi!"
"Sage Art!"
"Power of Susanoo!"
"Lightning Release!"
An endless, overlapping barrage of high-tier skills detonated across the coordinate grid. The sheer mechanical violence of the assault fractured the local atmosphere; dense, unnatural storm clouds swirled into existence overhead, bleeding raw lightning and thunder that instantly swallowed the daylight, plunging the arena into an apocalyptic twilight. The earth below disintegrated into a chaotic vortex of flying stone and blinding dust storming toward the upper atmosphere.
Although Zhao Quan's Third-Stage Susanoo possessed the defensive stat scaling of the Crow Tengu armor, it was utterly useless against Jiang Chen's unbridled, reckless bombardment. Under the weight of the kinetic trades, the spectral armor covering the young master began to spiderweb with fatal structural fractures, emitting sharp, agonizing clack, clack sounds as its durability bars flatlined.
Zhao Dingtian frantically tried to reposition his avatar to intercept the damage, but Jiang Chen didn't give the veteran a single frame of breathing room. The exact millisecond he initiated the burst on Zhao Quan, he simultaneously split off multiple Shadow Clones, each instantly manifesting their own glowing purple Susanoo structures to form a secondary wall around the Great Elder.
While the clones' avatars lacked the absolute, peak parameters of the main body, their collective chakra density was still immense—creating a rigid, claustrophobic containment zone that anchored the Level 98 powerhouse firmly in place.
"You despicable, shameless rat! If you actually possess any real capability, redirect your blades toward me!"
Zhao Dingtian's face was fully contorted with rage, his veins bulging like thick cords as his eyes widened like copper bells. Watching the protective shell around his grandson approach total collapse, the old man finally let out a maddened roar.
His offensive patterns grew insanely violent; the colossal black blade in his Susanoo's grip danced like a localized hurricane, tearing through the air with a deafening screech. Under this desperate, high-output pressure, Jiang Chen's defensive clones began to bleed stamina, their purple frames flickering and turning illusory as they soaked the elder's wrath.
But unfortunately for the Southern Pavilion, by the time Zhao Dingtian shattered the final clone's core and tore his way back to the primary coordinate... it was already a frame too late.
Jiang Chen had already reached through the ruins of the Crow Tengu armor, his hand clamped firmly around Zhao Quan's throat.
The young master was completely covered in blood, his rare, customized gear torn into tattered rags that fluttered weakly in the concussive wind. With blood and grime caked across his disheveled face, his eyes were locked in a state of pure, primal despair and horror. He gasped shallowly for oxygen, his health bar blinking dangerously into the red.
"Despicable?"
Jiang Chen effortlessly hoisted the heavy, broken body with a single arm, turning his head to look back at the approaching elder with a look of profound, unadulterated disdain.
"You brought hundreds of elite, high-level clan operatives to systematically encircle and raid my squad, yet you dare lecture me on honor?"
"My character sheet is currently locked at Level 52, while your precious grandson boasts a Level 70+ template. I engaged him in a direct, face-to-face trade, and because his mechanical execution was pathetic, he lost. Does that make me despicable?"
"You—a Level 98 veteran from the first generation of Contractors—lowered your status to march a massive army into a public plaza just to execute a single junior. Tell me, old man, does that make me despicable?"
Jiang Chen's smile turned razor-sharp, his eyes colder than the void.
"If that's the metric you're using... then congratulations. I am exactly as despicable as you say. Now, what are you going to do about it?"
The exact microsecond his words dropped, the muscles in his arm tensed with a sickening, definitive force. With a casual twist of his wrist, he cleanly snapped the neck of the dying Zhao Quan.
"QUAN'ER!!!"
Zhao Dingtian let out a shrill, agonizing scream that sounded like a dying beast, his eyes bulging so violently that blood began to seep from the tear ducts.
The absolute, unmitigated rage within him erupted like a monstrous tsunami, his level 98 aura detonating into a localized shockwave as he lunged forward, pouring every single remaining point of his chakra into a cataclysmic, suicidal charge straight toward Jiang Chen.
At the exact microsecond Zhao Quan's vital signs zeroed out, a bizarre, metallic symphony erupted across the sector.
Clang!
Clang!
Clang!
Within a massive ten-mile radius of the shattered plaza, every single piece of iron, steel, and alloy strapped to the persons of the onlookers began to shake violently. It was as if a sudden, irresistible magnetic pull had hijacked the local physics engine. The weapons came alive, trembling incessantly and tearing themselves cleanly out of their owners' sheaths, holsters, and hands, launching into the upper atmosphere toward Zhao Dingtian at an astonishing velocity.
"What the hell?! Why did my unique-tier blade just fly away on its own?!"
"Mine too! The system lock didn't even register a theft notification! What is going on?!"
"It's Zhao Dingtian's ultimate variable! The database notes that his Mangekyo Sharingan can forcefully manipulate all iron vectors—especially when his emotional state hits a critical spike of absolute rage! The area-of-effect expansion is drastically scaling up!"
"Damn it all, I literally just logged in to spectate the battle! Give me back my main armaments!"
"This Jiang Chen is far too terrifying... trading frames with a Level 98 boss while effortlessly executing a Level 70 scion is an absurd mechanical feat."
"He relied on high-tier Shadow Clones to tank the Great Elder's aggro. Otherwise, how could a turtle-shell build like Zhao Quan get torn apart so easily?"
"What a joke. Managing active clone frames while maintaining a peak-tier Susanoo is a premier skill. If you think it's an exploit, why don't you try spawning one for me right now?"
"Exactly! Do you think a clone of that caliber can be deployed with a baseline mana pool? Do you even have that much Chakra to burn through?!"
"With the primary heir officially deleted from the registry, Jiang Chen has locked his entire faction into a permanently irreconcilable blood feud with the Southern Pavilion..."
The massive sea of spectators discussed the development fervently, completely swept up in the adrenaline of the moment. No one had expected Jiang Chen to effortlessly secure a definitive kill on the young master under such heavily unfavored, outnumbered tactical circumstances.
One had to understand the baseline math: although Zhao Quan lacked frontline operational experience, his contracted spirit was a legendary hidden character sheet. With a Third-Stage Susanoo active, ordinary high-level Contractors couldn't even breach his outer aura. Yet Jiang Chen had systematically pinned down the strongest defensive player on the board and executed the target with lightning speed—his raw output was simply incredibly strong!
"Jiang Chen... I will paint this entire province with your blood!!!"
Zhao Dingtian's eyes were bloodshot, completely consumed by an all-enveloping madness. His gaze locked onto the boy with a biting, visceral killing intent, as if only by hacking Jiang Chen's physical form into a thousand microscopic pieces could he alleviate the burning agony in his soul.
As the thousands of flying weapons collected over his coordinates, driven by the absolute peak of his Ocular Power, a massive, dark torrent of steel materialized in the sky above the Great Elder's head.
The densely packed armaments hovered in mid-air like a catastrophic, metallic storm cloud, colliding with one another to emit a deafening, chaotic chorus of ding-dang sounds. This steel tsunami formed a practically unbreakable, hovering Great Wall of raw sword energy, radiating waves of soul-snatching sharpness that caused a chilling, instinctive dread to ripple through the entire crowd.
Beyond standard kunai and shuriken, this mass contained rare, peerless divine armaments torn from high-level spectators. If one zoomed into the stream, they could even spot a few replicated models of the renowned Hidden Mist Seven Swords swirling in the vortex.
Jiang Chen, having thoroughly parsed the parameters of Zhao Dingtian's iron manipulation beforehand, had already sealed his own Kusanagi Sword safely into his wrist matrix. Otherwise, even an artifact of that caliber might have had its tracking vectors overridden and forcibly seized by the elder's desperate Ocular Power.
"Making someone pay with blood isn't an achievement unlocked by talking, old man," Jiang Chen murmured, his lips curling into a calm, entirely confident smile. "You actually need to possess the mechanical ability to back up the threat."
While looking directly at the maddened Zhao Dingtian, he intentionally cast a subtle, sideways glance toward Ronan's coordinates.
By this point in the macro-timeline, Ronan had already finalized his hand seals, executing the taboo parameters of the [Edo Tensei] to summon a massive vanguard of reanimated bodies.
As those pale, cracked, and ominous figures rose from their wooden coffins across the perimeter, the eyes of every single class-holder present widened to their absolute limits. Their faces filled with a cocktail of pure shock, confusion, and visceral fear.
They had never dreamed that a follower under Jiang Chen would wield such a horrific, rule-breaking utility. What kind of monstrous shadow organization was this kid running? How could his vanguard units casually execute a legendary, forbidden dimension-class technique right in the middle of a public arena?
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