Chapter 555 Tragic
Chapter 555 Tragic
The battle lasted for three days and three nights.
The Avengers members were all injured.
Zhang Yiyuan's white robe turned red, and it was impossible to tell whether it was the enemy's blood or his own.
A new scar runs diagonally from Long Zaitian's forehead to his chin, now gracing his smiling face.
Jian Shisan's right arm was severed, and the Zhuxian Sword was transferred to his left hand.
Jiang Xuan's right hand is now useless.
Qingyunzi's Taoist robe and Abbot Xuanci's golden kasaya had both been reduced to beggar's clothes.
Both of them had several wounds on their bodies, some so deep that you could see the bone, but they gritted their teeth and persevered without expression.
Zhao Zilong's white robe was now stained with blood, yet he still killed one enemy with a single spear thrust, but a closer look revealed that his hands were trembling.
The land-dwelling deities of the Guardians of the Galaxy were covered in blood, some so weak they could barely stand, leaning against those around them, their weapons still dripping blood.
Countless disciples from various factions were killed or injured.
The white robes of the Kunlun Domain were stained with red and black.
The blue robe of Penglai Immortal Island was torn into strips, rustling loudly in the wind.
The gray robes of the Qingyun Sect members were soaked in blood, turning black, and clung to their bodies, wet and sticky.
The black-clad figures from the Heavenly Sword Pavilion showed no change in color, but more than half of them were gone, leaving the formation empty.
The monks of Mount Sumeru collapsed, and the golden Buddha light dimmed considerably.
The armies of the four major dynasties in Zhongzhou have suffered more than half their losses.
The demons of the Southern Wilderness Demon Kingdom lay scattered on the ground.
Most of the golden scales of the Demon King had fallen off, revealing the bloody flesh beneath.
The fire-elemental cultivators of the Northern Desert Flame Empire have exhausted their spiritual energy.
The Flame Empress's red robe was charred black, her face was covered in ash, and several strands of her hair were singed.
Ninety percent of the golden-armored guards of the Western Sands Empire were lost.
The golden sword of the King of Jinsha Kingdom was also chipped.
But no one retreated, no one ran away.
Zhuge Liang, Yuan Tiangang, and Li Chunfeng were all deathly pale, clearly showing signs of mental exhaustion.
Guan Yu and Dugu Qiubai went to rescue people everywhere, but their true energy was depleted by 99%.
Lu Bu was unharmed; his cultivation had reached the pinnacle of the continent.
If it weren't for the suppression of the world's rules, he could have unleashed the power of a peak Saint Venerable.
Lin Chen stood atop the tower for three days and three nights without moving, his divine sense covering the entire battlefield.
Every attack by extraterrestrial creatures, every counterattack by his own side, and the life and death of every individual were all within his perception.
Three days have passed, and all extraterrestrial creatures below the semi-saint level have entered.
Now only three Lesser Saint-level beings and one Saint Venerable Peak-level being remain.
The conditions for the blood sacrifice have now been met.
They emerged simultaneously from the crack, their bodies as large as mountains, entirely black, with dark red patterns etched on their scales, like blood vessels wriggling beneath their skin.
Four Saint-level beings stood in a row, blocking out the entire sky.
Everyone looked up, but could not see the sky; they could only see four dark, imposing mountains.
They raised their hands at the same time, and four enormous hands descended from the sky.
Lin Chen stood at the top of the tower, raised his right hand, and spread his five fingers.
"boom--"
The sky and earth changed color, the clouds were shaken apart, and sunlight leaked through the cracks, shining on the battlefield.
Lin Chen's four hands were blocked, but his hands remained motionless, as if they had hit an iron wall.
Lin Chen clenched his fist.
"Click—"
All four hands shattered simultaneously, scales burst open, and black blood splattered like a black rain.
The four Saint-level beings simultaneously let out a scream, took a step back, and fear appeared in their eyes for the first time.
Lin Chen didn't give them a chance. He raised his other hand and struck out with a palm.
A golden light shot out from his palm, shining on the four Saint Venerable-level creatures.
Their bodies began to melt, starting from the head, like candles being heated by fire.
They opened their mouths as if to call out, but couldn't; they wanted to run, but couldn't.
In less than two breaths, the four Saint-level beings turned into a pool of black water.
It rained down from the sky, fell to the ground, made a "sizzling" sound, and corroded out large pits.
The battlefield fell silent for a brief moment.
Then a deafening cheer erupted.
"Young Master Lin! Young Master Lin! Young Master Lin!"
Some knelt down, some cried, and some raised their weapons and roared to the sky.
Lin Chen stood atop the tower, his expression calm, neither smug nor relaxed.
The mysterious entity remained completely still. Lin Chen watched for a while before withdrawing his gaze.
Looking at the devastated battlefield, and at the people covered in blood yet still cheering.
With a raised hand, a golden light shot out from the top of the tower, enveloping the entire battlefield.
Where the light touched, the wounds of the injured healed and severed limbs regenerated.
Someone got up from the ground, looked at their healed wound, touched it, and touched it again to make sure it wasn't a hallucination.
Someone crawled out of the pile of corpses, covered in blood, and it was impossible to tell if it was their own or someone else's.
They stared at their newly grown arms for a long time, then knelt down.
"Thank you, Young Master Xie Lin, for saving my life!"
The sounds came from all directions, rising and falling.
Lin Chen stood atop the tower, watching all of this without saying a word.
His gaze once again pierced through the cheering crowd, through the still-bleeding crack, and landed in the chaotic void.
Sigrún has taught at the Iceland University of the Arts as a part-time lecturer since and was Dean of the Department of Fine Art from -. In – she held a research position at Reykjavík Art Museum focusing on the role of women in Icelandic art. She studied fine art at the Icelandic College of Arts and Crafts and at Pratt Institute, New York, and holds BA and MA degrees in art history and philosophy from the University of Iceland. Sigrún lives and works in Iceland.
Chaotic void.
The middle-aged man in the gray robe kept watching the young man standing on the top of the tower.
From the moment Lin Chen spoke until the four Saint Venerable-level creatures were killed with a single palm strike.
At twenty-one years old, he is at the mid-stage of the Half-Step Great Emperor realm, truly worthy of being the inheritor of the Chaos Pagoda.
He has met many geniuses.
The direct descendants of the divine families and the holy sons of the holy lands in the Origin Realm are all exceptionally talented.
But he had never seen anyone like Lin Chen, who reached the threshold of becoming a Great Emperor at the age of twenty-one.
Moreover, there was something about that young man that he couldn't understand.
It's not cultivation level, it's fortune, an fortune so dense it can't be dissolved.
That kind of luck made him instinctively uneasy.
The gray-robed man remained silent for a long time, then raised his right hand, his five fingers spread, and a hazy gray light condensed from his palm.
It wasn't a full-force attack, but a test.
He wanted to see just how many tricks that young man had up his sleeve.
Let's see if that deity has left any trump cards behind.
A single strike from a peak Half-Emperor is enough.
A hazy light pierced through the void, through the crack, through the clouds, and headed straight for Lin Chen.
Lin Chen looked up at the hazy light, a glint of light flashing in his eyes.
With a raised hand, golden light shot out from his palm, colliding with the hazy gray light.
"boom--"
The sky and earth changed color, the entire Tower of Babel trembled, and the runes on the tower flashed wildly, emitting a piercing "buzzing" sound.
The golden and gray light intertwined for half a breath before dissipating.
The man in the gray robe raised an eyebrow, somewhat surprised.
With a cultivation level of half-step Great Emperor, he was able to withstand a probing attack from a peak Half-Emperor so easily.
The gray-robed man paused for a moment, then gathered another attack, this time a true strike from a Great Emperor.
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