Batian Martial Soul

The man in white left a long trail of white light behind him, which drew a poignant arc in the dark sky until it disappeared at the edge of the vast horizon.

The white light lingered in the sky for a long time, as if it were a testament to the white-clad man's defeat, and also as if it were telling the story of the fierce battle.

Just when everyone thought the outcome of this fierce battle was decided and their tense nerves were about to relax, the battlefield space suddenly twisted and deformed without warning.

That originally stable space now seemed to be being kneaded at will by an invisible yet extremely powerful giant hand, and countless fragments of spacetime began to recombine in disorder.

These fragments shimmered with an eerie light, some carrying the bloody scent of ancient battlefields, others exuding the vicissitudes of mysterious ruins. They collided and merged with each other, emitting a sharp and piercing whistling sound.

Ling Xiao's expression changed drastically. The slight ease that had remained on his face turned ashen, and fine beads of sweat quickly appeared on his forehead, rolling down his cheeks and wetting his collar.

He knew that this was a spatial disorder caused by the earth-shattering sword strike just now. The power contained in that sword light was too terrifying, exceeding the limit that the independent space created by this ancient formation could withstand.

This isolated space, at this moment, is like a glass ball that has been wantonly kneaded by a naughty child, so fragile that it can't be broken at all.

The spatial barrier emitted a groan of unbearable strain, a sound like the wailing of a dying man, sending chills down one's spine.

Cracks spread rapidly like a spider web, covering the entire space at a visible speed. Each crack flickered with eerie purple lightning, which, like ferocious demons, darted through the cracks, as if telling the tragic story of the space's impending collapse.

Finally, with a crisp and loud crack, like the sound of shattering glass, the space completely collapsed.

Everyone felt a sudden dizziness, as if they were in a giant vortex and were mercilessly thrown into the vast and boundless chaotic void.

This chaotic void was pitch black, without a trace of light, and filled with a thick, ink-like chaotic energy.

The chaotic energy was incredibly heavy; every breath felt like swallowing lead, causing immense discomfort. It was as if a giant boulder was pressing down on one's chest, making it difficult to breathe.

Shockingly, in this chaotic void, the white-robed man reappeared a hundred feet in front of the young demon king.

He stood tall and straight, like an ancient pine tree, proudly standing amidst the chaos.

He gently stroked his robe, which had been torn by the sword energy. The robe was originally as white as snow, but now it was cut with cracks by the dark purple sword light. The dark purple sword light still lingered in the cracks, constantly corroding the fabric and making a sizzling sound, as if a ferocious beast was gnawing on its prey.

The white-robed man's lips curled up slightly, revealing an appreciative smile. He exclaimed, "What a fine young demon king, Black Sky Sword! He truly lives up to his reputation!"

His voice echoed in the chaotic void, carrying an ethereal and mysterious feeling.

Before he finished speaking, his eyes sharpened, and he raised his hand to deliver a slap.

This palm strike appears ordinary, without any fancy or flashy movements, but it contains terrifying power capable of destroying the world.

The surrounding space groaned as if it were an old man struggling under the weight of his burden, gasping for breath in pain.

Countless spatial rifts shot out like venomous snakes. These rifts were menacing and terrifying, with black flames burning faintly within them. The flames emitted a chilling aura and contained a terrifying pressure capable of annihilating everything.

The oppressive force pressed down on everyone as if it were a physical entity. Ling Xiao felt as if his body was being crushed by an invisible mountain, his bones creaking as if they were about to be crushed in the next second.

His legs trembled uncontrollably, and every step he took was incredibly difficult, but he gritted his teeth, endured the excruciating pain, and tried his best to stand firm, his eyes revealing determination and resilience.

He knew that the terrifying pressure before him was like a raging torrent, and that he could not possibly resist it with his own strength.

Left with no other choice, they had to exert all their strength to rely on the power of the Sacred Rune Array.

His hands moved swiftly, forming a series of complex and mysterious hand seals, while he chanted incantations, each syllable seemingly containing ancient and powerful energy.

As he moved, golden holy runes faintly appeared on his body. These holy runes shone and intertwined, gradually forming a huge holy rune array.

The sacred rune array emitted a holy and solemn light, enveloping his entire body. The light acted like a sturdy shield, barely managing to withstand the terrifying pressure. However, his body was still trembling slightly, and large beads of sweat rolled down his forehead, clearly indicating that he was under immense pressure.

The young demon king remained calm, as if the thrilling battle before him was nothing more than an ordinary contest.

However, a hint of seriousness flashed in his deep eyes, after all, the white-robed man's strength should not be underestimated.

His body was surrounded by surging demonic energy, like boiling black magma, which instantly transformed into countless black threads.

These threads, as thin as hair yet incredibly strong, intertwined and entwined in the air, like a skilled weaver weaving a giant black net, quickly forming a massive black vortex.

The center of the vortex was pitch black, like a bottomless abyss, exuding a chilling aura.

With a gentle wave of his hand, the movement was elegant yet carried with boundless majesty, and the black threads darted and moved like serpents.

They were incredibly fast, drawing strange trajectories in the air and precisely cutting the white-clad man's attack into countless small pieces.

Each piece of the attack that is cut contains powerful energy, and when it dissipates, it will trigger a small spatial explosion.

The explosions were deafening, blasting out black craters that shimmered with eerie light, like entrances to hell.

At the same time, the man in white was once again thrown back by the powerful recoil.

His body, like a kite with a broken string, retreated thousands of feet in the void in a disheveled state.

He constantly adjusted his posture in mid-air, his hands forming hand seals one after another, each movement carrying a sense of urgency and panic.

His face was as pale as paper, and there was a trace of blood at the corner of his mouth, clearly indicating that he had suffered a considerable loss in this fierce confrontation.

After some effort, he managed to steady himself, but his body was still swaying slightly, as if he had not yet recovered from the impact.

Before the man in white could even regain his footing, the young demon king attacked again.

His eyes sharpened, and he exuded a fierce aura, like a beast awakening.

He flicked his finger, a seemingly effortless movement that contained boundless power.

A dark purple sword aura shot out like a dragon emerging from the sea, its light gleaming with a chilling light. Wherever it passed, space was torn open with a massive rift. (End of Chapter)