Batian Martial Soul

Chapter 14063 Powerless
The purple gun line pierced through the black hole in an instant, tearing it into countless fragments. Those fragments flickered in the void a few times before disappearing without a trace.

Without stopping, the purple lightning pierced directly into the warrior's magnificent chest, which shone with bronze divine light!
boom! ! !
This time, it was a terrifying explosion that shook the entire world!
Countless fine, hair-like, yet incomparably sharp purple spear beams erupted from within the warrior's burly body!

These spear beams, like billions of crazed purple venomous dragons, raged and crashed through his body with boundless fury and destructive power.

They instantly tore through his bronze imperial armor. The once incredibly sturdy armor, capable of withstanding any attack, was like a thin sheet of paper in front of the purple spear light, easily shredded into pieces.

Immediately afterwards, the spear's edge pierced through his immortal body, forged through countless trials. Blood and flesh flew everywhere, and the ear-piercing sound of bones shattering blended together, like a tragic death symphony.

The light dissipated.

The towering figure of the guard remained frozen in mid-air, still in the posture of throwing a punch.

His arms were still outstretched forward, as if he were still trying to grasp that faint glimmer of hope.

But... all that remained of him was a dim, blurry, and cracked phantom of his soul!

The illusory image of the soul trembled slightly in the void, as if it might dissipate at any moment.

That solid, divine metal-like imperial body was actually annihilated into the finest cosmic dust by that single spear thrust!
Not a drop of blood or a piece of bone was left behind, as if he had never existed in this world.

The once majestic and powerful warrior who protected the man in white has vanished into this endless void, leaving behind only this poignant silence.

"Ho...ho..."

The guardian's illusory soul flickered violently in the void, like a candle flame swaying in a gale, threatening to go out at any moment.

The once solid and tangible outline of the soul has now become blurred and flickering, as if it will dissipate into the endless void in the next second.

His once domineering and battle-ready eyes were now shrouded in a thick haze, filled only with boundless shock and soul-deep fear!
The fear, like a surging tide, completely overwhelmed him, leaving him unable to extricate himself.

His soul trembled, each fragment of his soul emitting painful cries, as if recounting the endless terror brought about by that shot.

He stared intently at the black figure ahead, the direction where the young demon king was.

That blackness was like an abyss, deep and mysterious, exuding a chilling aura.

In his eyes, that black was no longer a simple color, but a symbol of death and an abyss of despair.

That shot seemed to be an attack from another dimension, exceeding his entire understanding of power and destruction!
He had fought countless battles throughout his life, encountered countless powerful figures, and experienced countless life-or-death battles, but he had never felt such a tremendous sense of powerlessness and fear as he did today.

After all, he was not Jian Jue, not that peerless master who was renowned in the starry sky and made countless strong people tremble with fear.

He was not the man in white, nor the divine messenger of noble status with a powerful force behind him.

He was merely the white-clad man's bodyguard, his duty being to protect the white-clad man's safety. But faced with absolute power, his duty seemed so insignificant and powerless.

His strength was no match for the young demon king; he was like an ant facing a giant elephant, utterly powerless to resist.

The man in white did not take the opportunity to escape.

He remained standing in the same spot, his feet seemingly nailed to the ground, unable to move an inch.

His face was so pale it was almost transparent, devoid of any color, as if he were a corpse that had just crawled out of a grave.

His body trembled slightly from extreme anger and fear. His hands were clenched into fists so tightly that his nails dug into his palms, and blood flowed down between his fingers, but he was completely unaware of it.

Behind him stood several figures standing quietly.

They wore ancient-style armor made of unknown materials, covered with mysterious runes and patterns, exuding an ancient and mysterious aura.

These armors looked thick and sturdy, as if they could withstand any attack, but at this moment, under the pressure of the young demon king, they appeared so fragile and vulnerable.

These were all guards of the man in white; they had not made a move before.

They originally thought that with their own strength and the lineup of guards, they could easily deal with any challenge, but today they realized that they were so wrong.

Now, however, they don't know how to make a move, because it seems that today's battle is no longer something they can get involved in.

They stood there, their eyes filled with confusion and helplessness, not knowing where to go or what to do.

They watched the trembling figure of the man in white, their hearts filled with guilt and helplessness, but they were powerless to do anything and could only watch helplessly as it all happened.

The man in white suddenly felt a sweet sensation rise in his throat.
The smell, like the metallic odor of rusty iron, rushed straight to the top of his head, making him dizzy.

His eyes were wide open, and he clenched his teeth tightly, as if those clenched teeth were the gates guarding his last shred of dignity.

Dark golden blood slowly seeped from between his teeth, looking particularly shocking against his pale skin.

He strained with all his might to swallow back the surging primordial blood within him, as well as the deep-seated, ever-present fear that pierced his bones. Each swallow felt like a sharp blade cutting through his throat.

His gaze deliberately avoided the remnant soul of the guardian, which was being mercilessly scorched by the Netherworld Fire, hovering not far away.

At this moment, the remnant soul had been burned to a blurry outline, teetering precariously in the cold flames, as if it might dissipate into the world at any moment.

The man in white struggled to move his eyes, his gaze slowly sweeping over the guards protecting him, like a snail crawling along.

These guards, who were usually imposing and highly skilled, appeared somewhat uneasy under the white-robed man's gaze, which was filled with complex emotions.

The man in white slowly opened his mouth, and the sound seemed not to come from his throat, but from an ancient well that had been dry for thousands of years.

The voice was dry and hoarse, carrying a sense of deathly stillness and relief after the dust had settled, as it drifted out: "You guys, take him... and go."

Each word seemed to tremble slightly in the air, as if it had used all its strength.

Upon hearing this, the guards looked at each other, their eyes filled with hesitation and helplessness.

They were all powerful figures, renowned in the martial arts world, but today, facing the young demon king's incredible strength, they felt like ants facing an elephant, seemingly utterly useless.