Ch. 1603 - The Eight Ancestors

“Yes,” everyone replied with firm nods after hearing Xu Zimo’s command.

With the roadblockers eliminated, though they could hardly even be called that, more like ants trying to stop a chariot, the people of the True Martial Sacred Ground once again rode the dragon-shaped treasure ship toward the distant horizon.

After about a full day’s journey, they finally arrived at the Yue God-Clan’s territory.

The Yue God-Clan’s city was vast, so large that the end could not be seen at a glance. The walls stretched endlessly, winding like a great serpent, resembling an ancient Great Wall disappearing into the heavens.

The walls were old, representing the long history of the Ten God-Clans, standing as monuments built alongside the Yue God-Clan throughout the ages. The prosperity of this city exceeded imagination. One could say that any city established by the Ten God-Clans automatically became the most flourishing region of the Absolute God Heaven. Even entire God Realms could not compare in size.

The city walls were enormous, three layers thick, according to rumors. Even a Grand Emperor would struggle to break through them.

Xu Zimo raised his head slightly. Standing on the treasure ship, he gazed down at the majestic city. Then he instructed, “Announce our challenge.”

“I’ll go,” Xiao An’an volunteered immediately.

She stepped into the air, rising above Yue City.

She called out clearly, “The True Martial Sacred Ground has come to destroy the Yue God-Clan. Let the Yue God-Clan’s God Lord come out and face us.”

“Oh? Little girl, you certainly know how to boast,” a voice chuckled from the side.

A man clad in golden battle armor stepped forward. He shone like the sun itself, the golden plates on his body radiating ancient brilliance. His gaze was sharp as he looked at Xiao An’an, and without warning he thrust his spear toward her.

Xiao An’an narrowly dodged the strike. With a deafening boom, a section of the sky shattered, and violent spatial turbulence erupted. The power contained in that single blow was terrifying, this man was a Sovereign Lord, only one step away from becoming a Saint Sovereign.

The Yue God-Clan truly lived up to their name. Even a mere gatekeeper held the strength of a Sovereign Lord.

He looked at Xiao An’an and mocked, “Such a big mouth for someone who only knows how to run.”

Xiao An’an snorted coldly and prepared to fight, but Willow Ancestor pulled her back.

“Your strength is insufficient,” he said. “Even with the True Martial Sword at your side, you would struggle against a Sovereign Lord. Don’t act recklessly.”

Xiao An’an could only retreat in frustration.

The golden-armored general turned toward the dragon-shaped treasure ship.

“The rest of you are nothing but rabble,” he said disdainfully. “We haven’t even bothered placing you in our eyes. Have the True Martial Sacred Ground’s ancestor come out.”

After speaking, he swept both his hands outward. A massive formation rose before Yue City, enveloping the entire wall. Great power pulsed within it. Yellow sand filled the sky, and surging currents of formation energy flowed violently, smashing everything in their path. This was a formation, and clearly not a simple one, its yellow sands carried corrosive power.

Xu Zimo walked out slowly. Stepping through the air, he said, “You all stand back and observe from afar. This battle has nothing to do with you.”

“Ancestor, be careful,” Willow Ancestor said anxiously as he and the others withdrew.

Seeing Xu Zimo appear, the golden-armored general spoke: “This is the Heaven-Extinguishing Wind Formation, the Yue God-Clan’s guardian formation. If you can break it, then enter our city and face us.”

He retreated several steps, then waved his hand. The sands churned wildly, filling the formation with endless storms.

“Breaking this formation is hardly difficult,” Xu Zimo said with a smile.

He stepped into the formation. Instantly, countless storms roared toward him, as if intent on tearing him apart.

“Playing with wind against me?” Xu Zimo laughed.

He had inherited the legacy of Ancient Wind God Tianwu. In terms of mastering wind, he considered himself second to none.

He lifted his hand, and the Primal Dao of Wind swirled around him, turning his form almost ethereal. The gales tore past his body harmlessly, failing to leave even a mark. Instead, with a gesture, he seemed to become the embodiment of the wind itself, controlling every storm within the formation. The raging winds became as docile as sheep before him.

Standing at the center of the tempest, Xu Zimo said calmly, his voice drifting like the wind, “I am the storm. What need is there to speak of breaking the formation?”

With another wave, the countless winds moved with him, and the overwhelming gale shattered the formation’s foundation.

He stepped out amid howling winds. The sky darkened, clouds rolling as if the heavens themselves were trembling. With a sweeping motion, he unleashed a tornado that surged toward the city wall.

The golden-armored general paled as he watched the approaching storm, which turned the world black like an apocalypse. He retreated rapidly.

The storm reached the wall first. The supposedly impenetrable wall, said to withstand even a Grand Emperor’s assault, crumbled instantly. Stones flew, bricks shattered, and everything nearby was reduced to ruins. The destructive force was terrifying.

When the storm finally died down, an entire section of Yue City’s wall had been obliterated, and the nearby buildings lay in rubble.

Xu Zimo descended like a sovereign of the heavens. Another burst of storm-force struck the area where the golden-armored general stood. He tried to flee, unleashing his imperial might, but it was pointless. The storm tore through him effortlessly. His golden armor shattered into fragments, revealing his true appearance.

The general’s face changed drastically.

He cried out, “My lords, save me!”

But the hidden powers watching from the shadows remained silent. No one cared.

The storm shredded his body completely. He never emerged again.

Only after his death did a faint, cold snort echo through the air.

“The Yue God-Clan has no need for useless trash.”

As the voice faded, several figures appeared faintly, materializing in the void.

“The Eight Ancestors of Pupil Mountain stand here to face you.”

Eight gray-robed elders floated in the sky. Their combined auras merged together, fusing with the very heavens. At the center of each elder’s forehead was an eye, triangular in shape, strange and unsettling, containing a power that made one’s heart tremble.

The eight elders formed a line, blocking the path forward.

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