Chapter 14292 Yang Xiong, Young Master of Zhantianyuan

The faces of all the martial artists who had trapped Ji Mingkong were filled with fear; their original confident expressions had been replaced by panic.

They all stopped what they were doing and looked in fear toward the source of the sound, as if the speaker was a demon from hell who was about to bring them annihilation.

On the other side of the endless sky, a dazzling and incomparably sharp sword light was rapidly approaching at a speed surpassing that of the stars!

The sword light, like the most dazzling meteor streaking across the night sky, carried a world-destroying momentum, tearing black cracks in the void wherever it went.

Amidst the sword light, a blurry figure burned with his life essence, his body surrounded by a layer of blazing flames—a symbol of his all-out effort.

He tore through the void with all his might, like an enraged lion charging toward the enemy, determined to protect his woman.

The roar shook the galaxy once more, like an ancient ferocious beast breaking free from the shackles of time and space, sweeping in with a world-destroying force.

Every word seemed to contain a resolute sword intent that could cleave the heavens and split the earth. That sword intent was sharp and domineering, as if it could sever all cause and effect in the world and destroy the rules of all realms.

"Sword to kill the gods!"

The moment the last word was uttered, the entire world seemed to freeze.

Clang! ! !
Immediately following, a sword cry rang out, clear and resonant, like a giant dragon breaking through the clouds and roaring wildly in the heavens; it was also like a decree descended by the heavens, carrying an unquestionable majesty, suddenly resounding throughout this vast and boundless world.

The sound of the sword pierced through layers of space and crossed the river of time, carrying a soul-stirring power.

Not only on this battlefield filled with smoke and blood, but throughout the entire Overlord Empire, on every inch of its vast land, every swordsman carries a longsword, whether it be an incomparably sharp divine weapon or an ordinary iron sword; ancient swords enshrined in sects, weathered by time and carrying countless legends and glories; even broken swords buried deep in the mountains, sealed by time and buried underground, even if their blades are broken and their sword spirits have dissipated.

At that moment, they all began to buzz and tremble uncontrollably, as if a mysterious and powerful force was calling to them.

The sword tips all pointed towards the source of the sword's cry, like a group of devout believers worshipping the supreme emperor of swords; the scene was magnificent and awe-inspiring.

In the sky, the first glimmer of sword light, like a faint spark, flickered quietly in the darkness.

However, in that split second, it suddenly expanded, transforming into a dazzling sword beam that stretched across the starry sea.

The sword light shone with boundless brilliance, its intensity so great that it seemed to overshadow the radiance of the entire starry sky and the sun and moon, causing all things in the world to pale in comparison; its power was so fierce that it seemed to break through the established order of heaven and earth, reopen the chaos, and recreate the universe.

Wherever the sword's edge passed, space seemed to turn into a fragile sheet of paper, silently annihilating.

An eternal dark trajectory slowly emerged behind the sword's edge. That darkness was deep and terrifying, like a passage to an endless abyss, inspiring awe in all who beheld it.

fear!

An indescribable fear instantly gripped the hearts of every martial artist in the arena.

Their faces turned deathly pale, their eyes filled with terror and despair, and their bodies trembled uncontrollably.

This fear, like a tidal wave, completely overwhelmed them, leaving them unable to breathe or think.

Especially Yang Xiong, who was the first to be hit, felt his blood almost freeze the moment the sword light appeared, as if it were frozen and unable to flow.

An unprecedented shriek of warning came from the depths of his soul, a sharp and piercing sound like the call of death.

He clearly sensed death!

Death was inevitable!
His face turned deathly pale in an instant, as if all his life force had been drained away. His once rosy and radiant complexion was now completely bloodless.

His eyes were filled with unbelievable horror, as if he had seen the most terrifying and unbelievable thing in the world. His eyes were wide open, and his eyeballs were almost bulging out.

But he was, after all, a top genius. He had teetered on the brink of life and death since childhood and had gone through countless hardships to get to where he was today. The instinct for survival was deeply ingrained in his bones.

At this critical moment, a moment of life and death, he let out a heart-wrenching roar, a sound that seemed to come from the depths of his soul, filled with endless fear and resentment.

At the same time, the powerful and boundless profound energy within his body poured out without reservation, surging forth like a flood bursting its banks.

He rapidly formed hand seals and chanted incantations. Under the pressure of life and death, he summoned an ancient and heavy bronze divine shield to shield himself.

This divine shield was obtained by him after going through countless hardships in an ancient ruin; it was his most treasured life-saving artifact.

The surface of the shield was covered with mysterious and complex Dao patterns, which shimmered with a ghostly green light, as if they contained endless mysteries and power, exuding an ancient and majestic aura.

However, this divine shield, which was strong enough to withstand the full force of a Great Sun Realm expert, was as fragile as paper in front of that dazzling sword light.

The sword light, like a bolt of lightning slicing through the darkness, roared in with earth-shattering power.

It didn't even directly touch the shield; the emanating, extremely sharp sword intent swept past, like an invisible blade, easily piercing through the shield's surface defenses.

The bronze shield let out a mournful cry, a sound that seemed to be its painful struggle and desperate cry.

The shimmering, eerie green light on it instantly dimmed, like a candle flame about to go out.

Those mysterious Dao patterns crumbled inch by inch, turning into specks of light and dissipating into the air.

With a "crack," the shield split open, and a huge crack quickly spread out, as if it had been torn apart by an invisible force.

laugh--!
The sword's edge flashed past silently, yet carried a chilling stillness.

It is like the scythe of death, ruthlessly reaping everything that stands in its way.

Yang Xiong's forward momentum suddenly froze on the spot, as if he had been frozen in place by a spell.

The terror, resentment, and horror on his face froze completely; that expression was like an eternal painting, recording the despair of his final moments.

He looked down at his chest in disbelief. There was no wound, no blood, and no sign of pain.

But his body, starting from his feet, was gradually turning into the finest particles of light and slowly dissipating.

The light particle, like a shooting star twinkling in the night sky, carried his last breath of life and gradually disappeared into the air.

A figure appeared before him like a ghost. The figure was tall and straight, with a cold and aloof demeanor, and exuded a sharp killing intent.