Cultivating with Bragging System-Chapter 529 - 260: The Battle of the Saint! Zhenmo City—Transform! (6000 words)_1
The battlefield instantly escalated, becoming a holy war.
Above the Firmament, domains were carved out of reality. These pockets of space, isolated from the world, connected directly to the second layer of the void, where a host of Saint Realm powerhouses engaged in a slaughter. Whether they were the Lord-level powerhouses of the Demon Race or the Saints of the Human Race, their every move held the power to shatter the heavens and obliterate the earth.
Below the Saint Realm, all beings were but ants.
If the battlefield hadn’t been partitioned, both armies would likely have been annihilated the moment the first blows were exchanged.
Even the most perceptive cultivators found it nearly impossible to spy on a battle between experts of this Realm. But Wang Xiu possessed the Supreme Sensing Chapter. Casting aside his physical sight, he used a unique method to observe the flow of Qi. Combined with the keen perception of his Divine Soul, he could reconstruct the entire battlefield within his mind.
This battle would decide the very survival of Nanzhou. No, if this battle were lost, the consequences would likely ripple throughout the entire Cangyuan Realm. If the Demon Race conquered Nanzhou, they would inevitably find a way to restore Initial Demon City or even build a new one. From there, they could draw a continuous stream of reinforcements from the Abyss Demon Realm, using it as a foothold to expand across the entire Cangyuan Realm.
Therefore, the major Immortal Sects of the Immortal Alliance held almost nothing back. Apart from leaving one or two guardians at their respective homes, they had mobilized in full force. Counting the Saints Wang Xiu had brought from the Ancient Sanctuary, their forces numbered over four hundred in total.
How rare were Saints?
Across the Nanzhou Immortal Alliance today, excluding the hidden masters from previous generations, fewer than thirty percent of the one hundred and eight Immortal Sects had a Saint watching over them. Some of the lowest-ranking Cave Heaven-level powers, suffering from poor fortune in recent years, only had a half-Saint as their strongest publicly known expert.
These several hundred Saints represented the foundation Nanzhou had accumulated over countless years. Many had lived for ages, their lifespans nearly depleted. They typically slumbered in a state of suspended animation within their Sect’s forbidden grounds, serving as a final trump card. Now, all of them had entered the fray.
Now, with all the Saints vying for supremacy under the heavens, their radiance was immeasurable. The second layer of the void resembled a vast ocean of sacred light, overwhelmingly brilliant and dazzling.
But the forces of the Demon Race were no weaker—and perhaps even stronger.
Bone Dragons, each tens of thousands of feet long, radiated tumultuous Demonic Qi as they tore through the second layer of the void. Every fiery breath they exhaled created ripples of Chaotic Qi that annihilated the laws of nature, a horrifying spectacle. There were also colossal, three-headed Hell Lions, each the size of a star. Their bloodline power was so astonishing that every roar could make stars fall from the sky, possessing terrifying destructive force.
A three-headed, six-armed humanoid creature exuded a powerful aura, each of its hands wielding a different Demon Treasure: a saber, a spear, a sword, a hammer, an ancient seal, and a bronze bell. Ripples of Demonic Patterns spread like violent tides, giving it the startling and formidable presence of an ancient, world-conquering Demon God.
Demons capable of cultivating to the Lord Realm were almost all pure-blooded creatures. They possessed pure bloodlines, innate Divine Skills, and were uniquely blessed by heaven. Although such beings constituted a small fraction of the total Demon Race population, across all of Demon Sea Island, there were nearly four hundred such pure-blooded Ancient Clans. Even if each clan dispatched only a single Lord-level ancestor, the Demon Race would still hold a numerical advantage in this realm. Not to mention those great pure-blooded clans with long lineages whose ancestors had included True Demons; some of them had three or even four Lord-level existences.
This was a truly terrifying combat force.
In the void, Shadow Fiends blotted out the sky while holy light blazed intensely. In a battle of this magnitude, the slightest factor could alter the entire situation. Everyone unleashed their ultimate techniques, their focus absolute, not daring to show the slightest negligence.
"You vile demons, aspiring to defile my Divine Province! I’ll take two of you with me even in death!"
The thunderous roar still echoed when an unimaginable explosion erupted from the second layer of the void. The blast tore through space itself, the shockwave cascading into the mortal world, collapsing endless mountain ranges and instantly killing countless demons.
A dazzling firework of death blossomed in the void. A vast shower of golden light rained down from the void. It fell endlessly—a scene that was spectacular, hauntingly beautiful, and resplendent with a sacred, otherworldly light.
The slaughter on the battlefield below came to a sudden halt. Everyone, friend and foe alike, looked up at the spectacle, their hearts thumping as a wave of sorrow washed over them.
"Ancestor—"
A piercing cry of anguish, loud enough to shake the heavens, drew every eye. A blood-soaked figure stood high in the Firmament, gazing at the rain of light with an expression of utter sorrow and despair. That was the Sect Leader of Three Yang Blessed Land, a peak Emergence Stage powerhouse.
"The Ancestor of Three Yang Blessed Land... he’s self-destructed!" someone cried out in realization.
"A Saint has fallen!"
"So soon?"
"The battle in the void must be incredibly fierce!"
These realizations sent a tremor through everyone’s spirit. A mighty Saint, an existence at the pinnacle of the mortal world, capable of reshaping heaven and earth... could also die? The heart of every person on the battlefield clenched. They were gripped by an indescribable dread.
The true, brutal battle had only just begun. The battlefield that would truly decide the fate of the Human Race lay in the deepest reaches of the void.
"Alas, this is war," an old man lamented. "Even a Saint must bleed. In the face of life and death, there is no difference between a Saint and a mortal."
Shaking his head to clear it of such thoughts, he focused his will to fight and plunged back into the fray. There was no room for sentimentality now. Though ordinary cultivators like them could not decide the war’s ultimate outcome, to stand idly by was a torment worse than death.
The fall of a Saint only served to make the demons more ferocious, their fighting spirit surging. In response, the warriors of the Human Race were also roused, their own savage battle lust ignited.
