Chapter 132: The World Would Soon Fear

The battle inside the realm kicked off to a brutal start as everyone entered a free-for-all, a chaotic melee that quickly devolved into a savage spectacle of blood and broken bodies. Though death was now impossible within the realm due to the recently established rules, the pain was real—bones shattered, flesh torn, and wills crumbled under the weight of relentless violence. Hours bled into one another as the junior generation lost sight of their original purpose, consumed by the primal urge to survive and dominate. The battlefield became a maelstrom of desperation, where every strike was a gamble, and every move carried the risk of annihilation, just to push their potential to the limits.

Fang Lili, her chest pierced by a jagged blade, gasped for air as her vision blurred. But even in her final moments, she refused to fall without a fight. With a guttural scream, she drove her sword through the chest of a young man from Thunderclap City, his eyes wide with shock as they both vanished in a flash of light, their rings flaring briefly before their bodies were expelled from the realm.

Bia Zhan, his fists coated in blood, roared as he slammed his opponent into the ground, shattering the earth beneath them. He eliminated his foe with a brutal punch to the throat, but his triumph was short-lived. A blade of condensed lightning struck him from behind, piercing his heart and sending him spiraling out of the realm in a burst of sparks.

Zhen Ming and Zhen Jinhai, brothers from Northern Moon City, fought back-to-back, their swords a blur of silver light as they carved through the chaos. But even their unity couldn't save them. A barrage of poisoned vines from a Verdant Sky assassin ensnared Zhen Ming, dragging him into the shadows, where he was swiftly eliminated. Zhen Jinhai enraged, charged forward, only to be met with a crushing blow from a Thunderclap City disciple's war hammer after he was already injured. His body crumpled, and the light of his ring flickered as he was expelled.

The battlefield was a gory tableau of carnage. Blood pooled in the craters left by shattered earth, staining the ground a dark crimson. Limbs lay scattered, and the air was thick with the metallic tang of blood and the acrid stench of burning flesh. The good thing about modern cultivation was that if one wasn't dead, using excellent medicine, or if one's cultivation was high enough, he or she could reattach severed limbs.

"AHHHAAHHH!!!"

Shockwaves from clashing techniques rocked the air, their force reverberating through the colossal chains above, which groaned and swayed ominously. The ground, once a pristine fragment of the immortal realm, now bore the scars of countless battles. Over thousands of years, the land had weakened, its resilience eroded by time and neglect, but it had never been reduced to such ruin as it was now.

Hours passed, and the scene grew even more heartrending. The once-proud prodigies of the various cities were reduced to desperate, bloodied figures, their bodies broken but their spirits refusing to yield. The chains above creaked louder, their metallic groans a grim reminder of the realm's fragility. The battlefield was a testament to the brutality of the trial at hand, a place where even the strongest could fall and where the line between victory and defeat was drawn in blood and pain.

The Obsidian Waterfall Realm had become a graveyard of ambition. Jiang Feng stood at the eye of the storm, his body a canvas of wounds. Blood seeped from gashes along his ribs, staining his draconic scales crimson, while his left arm hung limp, dislocated from deflecting Cheng Yutian's Broken God Sword. But the pain was irrelevant. The darkness within him—a sovereign law older than the stars—coiled around his core, whispering for the death of everyone around him. It sharpened his senses, stripped his emotions to cold calculation, and painted the world in shades of predator and prey.

"Haha, they are truly strong, I never wanted to resort to the power of darkness, but who would've thought that I overestimated my power and underestimated theirs?" Jiang Feng roared with laughter as he thought of the several hours of hard-fought battle!!

To his left, Ji Moran dueled Shi Yan of Obsidian Lake City. The latter's Water Tomb Spirit projection churned violently, tidal waves morphing into serpentine monstrosities that lunged at Ji Moran. Her Moon Flame flickered, its icy radiance dimming under the relentless assault. A gash across her thigh bled freely, staining the frost at her feet, but her eyes burned with defiance.

"You're drowning in your arrogance," Shi Yan sneered, her voice echoing from the depths of her aqueous tomb. She thrust her palms forward, and the ground beneath Ji Moran liquefied, pulling her into a vortex of crushing pressure.

Ji Moran's lips moved silently. "Rebirth".

Her Rebirth Phoenix shrieked, wings of glacial fire slicing through the water. The vortex froze mid-spiral, its surface cracking as Lunara Glacies' power surged. Shi Yan's smirk faltered as frost crawled up her legs, immobilizing her. Ji Moran erupted from the ice, her sword piercing Shi Yan's shoulder, but the Obsidian Lake prodigy twisted, retaliating with a whip of pressurized water that carved a deep furrow across Ji Moran's collarbone. Blood sprayed, painting the ice crimson.

"You'll bleed to death before you kill me," Shi Yan spat, her Water Tomb convulsing.

Ji Moran's reply was a smile—thin, lethal. "Then I'll shatter you with the thaw."

Jiang Feng's attention was fragmented. Cheng Yutian's Broken God Sword cleaved the air, its fractures leaking volatile sword Qi that scorched the earth. Behind him, Ling Meixue and Han Yunfei carved through lesser cultivators from Mists Ridge and Thunderclap Cities, their brutality surgical. Ling Meixue's daggers moved like shadow vipers, severing limbs and arteries with precision, while Han Yunfei's whipblade coiled around a Northern Moon disciple's throat, decapitating him mid-scream, but he wasn't truly dead as he burst into light. Their rings glowed incessantly, numbers climbing—198, 213, 227—as bodies fell.

"Focus, Jiang Feng," Cheng Yutian growled, his Sword Emperor City materializing overhead. A hail of blades rained down, each sword humming with lethal intent. "Or are you already broken?"

The darkness within Jiang Feng pulsed.

He didn't dodge.

Instead, he stepped into the storm of blades, his draconic scales flaring black. The Sovereign Law of Darkness unraveled around him, devouring light, sound, and momentum. Swords slowed, their edges corroding mid-flight before disintegrating into ash. Cheng Yutian's eyes widened "How!" —a flicker of fear—as Jiang Feng closed the distance, his celestial dagger humming.

"Broken God Sword!" Cheng Yutian roared, swinging his colossal projection.

Jiang Feng's free hand snapped up. Threads of darkness lashed out, ensnaring the blade. The Broken God Sword shuddered, its cracks spreading as the void gnawed at its essence.

"I might not know much about the Dao of the sword, but from what I do know, your Dao is flawed," Jiang Feng said, voice devoid of inflection. "A sword that cannot endure its own weight is no God Sword, a sword that seeks to only cut down all but is trapped in illusions no good—it's a relic."

He yanked the threads.

The sword shattered.

Cheng Yutian screamed as backlash ravaged his meridians, blood erupting from his eyes and mouth. Jiang Feng's dagger followed, carving a line from shoulder to hip. The Little Sword Emperor collapsed, his ring flaring—306—before his body vanished, expelled from the realm.

Chaos metastasized.

Ling Meixue and Han Yunfei turned their fury on Jiang Feng, and their movements synchronized. Ling Meixue's Red Phantom Banshee wailed, sonic waves shredding the earth, while Han Yunfei's Ten Hells Ghost lashed its whipblade, each strike birthing spectral chains.

"Your flames can't burn what you cannot see," Ling Meixue hissed, dissolving into shadows.

Jiang Feng's pupils dilated, the darkness within him expanding.  "Accept the Abys... ssss," a voice slowly echoed in his subconscious.

Dark fog instantly covered his eyes, Jiang Feng then saw Ling Meixue—not as flesh but as a ripple in the void, his body blurred with a flash, threads pulling him forward.

His dagger flashed.

Ling Meixue rematerialized, choking on blood as the celestial blade buried itself in her stomach. Her banshee screeched, chains recoiling, but Jiang Feng twisted the dagger, the Skyforge Flame erupting upward. Her torso vaporized, leaving only her legs standing. Jiang Feng's ring flared—419—as her remains disappeared.

"How dare you!!"

Han Yunfei's whipblade struck true, slicing Jiang Feng's back open to the bone. But he didn't flinch.

"You're next," Jiang Feng said, turning slowly.

Han Yunfei's Ten Hells Ghost wavered, its blades rattling. For the first time, the Shadow Church prodigy hesitated, he now understood why he was previously getting a strange feeling each time he looked at Jiang Feng. The black eyes that looked like ink, the cold killing intent, and the brutality in his eyes all made sense to him now. "The elders once said that we should live in the darkness but never let it consume us. What we practice is the shadow, but you, you seem to practice something far different, and you've crossed a line you shouldn't have!"

Jiang Feng's concept of darkness surged, but as it did, his mind was in overdrive, comprehending the laws within and around him. He had caught onto a strange feeling inside of him, inside his soul, like a presence, but he couldn't figure it out no matter how he tried. "Could I be going down the wrong path?. No, that's not it, there's something else happening here!". Jiang Feng opened his arms wide as the concept of darkness surged like a tidal wave.

It consumed the whipblade, the ghost, the very air Han Yunfei breathed. The Shadow Church disciple gasped, clawing at his throat as the void invaded his lungs. Jiang Feng strode forward, each step a death knell, and drove his Celestial dagger through Han Yunfei's heart. After fighting for so many hours, every one of them was already tired and worn out, which is the reason why Jiang Feng had to resort to the concept of darkness.

"Your shadows are 'weak,'" Jiang Feng whispered.

The body crumpled. *488*.

Ji Moran's battle crescendoed.

Shi Yan's Water Tomb had become a maelstrom, dragging the surrounding landscape into its depths. Obsidian Lake disciples—those not already slaughtered—fed their energy into the vortex, amplifying its fury. Ji Moran's Moon Flame Deepfrost concept dimmed, her ice fracturing under the pressure.

"You're nothing without him!" Shi Yan screamed, her face contorted with rage. A tendril of water speared Ji Moran's side, pinning her to a glacier.

It was then that Jiang Feng silently appeared beside her, his presence like a shadow, ignoring his injuries as he examined hers.

"Finish it," Ji Moran rasped, blood bubbling at her lips.  He nodded.

The Sovereign Law, the concept of Darkness, merged with the Skyforge Flame. Jiang Feng had once thought the concept of darkness couldn't or simply refused to merge with his other abilities, but he was wrong when he formulated that thought. Only when he gained more control and fused more with the laws of dark energy did he realize that darkness at the base was still a spiritual essence energy but on a higher playing field of power. Roaring sounds filled his mind as dark energy merged with the Skyforge Flame.

The resulting inferno was neither light nor shadow but the absence of both—a ravenous void. Jiang Feng's dagger plunged into the heart of the Water Tomb, and the darkness *devoured*.

Shi Yan's scream died as her domain imploded, crushing her body into a pulp of bone and water. Her disciples followed, their rings dimming and causing his to flare in rapid succession—*512, 527, 539*—until only silence remained.  "It could break past the 500 mark?" Jiang Feng panted for air, never in his life had he fought so badly, though the others seemed to be dead, he knew that they were transported to the outside world and that his deeds would thereafter be reported to the elders waiting.

The realm trembled.

Jiang Feng and Ji Moran stood back-to-back, the last pillars in a sea of carnage. The chains above shuddered, their cracks widening as white mist—the accumulated energy of the fallen—poured into the heavens. Their rings glowed: *688* for Jiang Feng, *576* for Ji Moran.

But the trial wasn't done.

The remaining stragglers—a Silver Sword disciple, a Thunderclap archer, and two Verdant Sky assassins—lunged in desperation.

Jiang Feng moved like a reaper.

His dagger severed limbs; his flames reduced flesh to ash. Ji Moran's ice impaled, froze, and shattered. They fought not as allies but as forces of nature, their movements a dance of mutual annihilation. When the last Verdant Sky disciple fell, his throat a ruin of frost and flame, the realm fell silent.

Blood dripped from Jiang Feng's fingertips. Ji Moran leaned heavily on her sword, her breaths shallow. The chains above ceased their groaning, their purpose fulfilled.

"We're now the only two remaining," Ji Moran whispered.

Jiang Feng said nothing. The darkness within him receded, leaving only the hollow ache of victory. He stared at his hands—stained, trembling—and wondered if the void would ever release him now that he had crossed so far into its depths. In the end, they were both carriers of unimaginable legacies: one that could forge reality, and the next, the power of the great sun, the light of beginning. The last, one of ice, stopper of time. In the end, Jiang Feng's ring count rose to 700 while Ji Moran's rose to 588, each accumulating 12 additional points.

And the world would soon fear what they will become.