The Ancient God Spear Runs Red

The Basded Ancient God Spear was crimson as blood, a weapon that had slain gods—more than one, according to legend. The blood of deities could never be washed from its shaft, marking it as a legendary god-killing spear. Its sudden appearance here was deeply ominous.

The brown-haired youth was not tall, but he was powerfully built. One bare arm was thick with bulging bronze muscle, radiating explosive strength. A cold smirk hung on his not-handsome face, and twin beams of frosty light shot from his eyes as he stared at the approaching Xiao Chen.

Xiao Chen's battle robes were soaked in blood. His upright frame was drenched crimson. The Basded Ancient God Spear had pierced through his left side, snapping two ribs, and a torrent of blood streamed from the wound. But he seemed to feel no pain, walking forward slowly and powerfully. The red spear quivered, its ancient divine inscriptions gleaming with an eerie red light, reflecting the sharp determination on his chiseled face.

Beneath his long brows, his eyes were cold as blades. An intangible aura weighed down like a mountain, vast as an ocean. A heaven-covering killing intent locked onto the brown-haired youth.

"Thump!"

With each step, the earth trembled slightly. Xiao Chen moved like a mountain, an oppressive weight that stole breath. Gradually, the brown-haired youth's expression changed. He realized with shock that Xiao Chen's footsteps held an unspoken magic: they synchronized with his own heartbeat, until the rhythm aligned perfectly.

"Thump!"

It was a form of sonic attack. Xiao Chen had already struck.

In that moment, he seemed to merge with heaven and earth, feeling the pulse of the land, becoming one with it. His footsteps penetrated deep, guiding the vast primal energy of the earth to surge upward. The measured steps were slow but heavy, each one shaking the space around them. The brown-haired youth felt his blood rush, his face flushing, his heart seeming to leap from his throat. It was as if his heart had been seized, crushed by an invisible force.

Unity of Heaven and Man!

Xiao Chen seemed to have entered the Dao, comprehending the Great Dao of heaven and earth. Every movement appeared natural and harmonious, as if he were wielding the very fabric of this world. His body and consciousness merged into a strange domain.

"Boom!"

Suddenly, Xiao Chen stomped down with crushing force, far heavier than before.

"Pff!"

The brown-haired youth's face turned crimson. His eyes bulged as he spat a mouthful of blood. His body shook violently, nearly collapsing into the dust.

"Boom!"

Though severely wounded, Xiao Chen's aura had reached unprecedented heights. He stood within heaven and earth as if truly "united with the Dao".

"Aaaah!" The brown-haired youth howled, trying to break free from the suffocating pressure. If this continued, his heart would burst. The pounding of his heart was now entirely dominated by those footsteps.

"Boom! Boom! Boom! Boom! Boom!"

Xiao Chen took five steps in rapid succession, each heavier than the last, locked to the earth's pulse. The youth could bear it no longer. He roared skyward, unleashing a sonic wave to shatter the unbearable rhythm. But these five steps were as heavy as a sacred mountain, irresistible.

"Aaaah!"

Spitting a sword-like gout of blood, the youth was hurled backward as if struck by a mountain.

Xiao Chen, the red spear still impaling him, walked forward step by step. An unimaginable power surged through the space. Every motion of his drew on the strength of heaven and earth.

"Bam!"

Crashing into the rubble, the brown-haired youth slammed his fist into the ground in fury, then spat three great gouts of blood. His body, jolted by a thunderous force, flew backward.

At last, he had broken free from that dreadful pressure, escaping the space that felt like a divine domain. Without even truly fighting, he was already injured. His eyes blazed with undisguised malice as he stared at Xiao Chen like a wild beast. "Pierced by the Basded Ancient Spear, grievously wounded—can you still strike a second, third, or fourth time?"

"Enough to kill you."

"Ha... hahaha..." The brown-haired youth laughed in fury. "I was too careless. I fell into your battle rhythm. Now let's see what you can do to me!"

Dugu Jianmo stood far off, holding his iron sword, watching as if detached, a look of cold indifference on his face.

Xiao Chen advanced slowly. The crimson Basded Spear remained lodged in his body. Not because he did not want to pull it out, but because he dared not: he feared that in the moment of withdrawal, his essence, energy, and spirit would drain away. The spear had wounded him grievously. His left side was punctured, ribs broken, meridians damaged—his cultivation was severely affected. Had it not been for his abundant life essence, the spear's initial crushing impact might have shattered him.

Legends surrounded the Basded Spear. It was said to be the sacred artifact of a small Western tribe with an ancient past, where half-gods were born in every generation. The tribe was descended from the god-like War Clan, and the spear was one of their heirlooms—the War Clan had once slain many deities. Its origins were extraordinary, though the brown-haired youth could not unleash its full power.

"Haha... you really are at your last gasp. If I'm not mistaken, you don't even dare to pull out the spear!" The brown-haired youth laughed coldly.

Xiao Chen was indeed gravely injured, but his spirit had grown ever stronger. Though his body suffered, his momentum blazed like a rainbow piercing the sun.

"Thank you for delivering this god-killing spear. The Basded Ancient God Spear will be my trophy, and you will die under its point!"

With that, Xiao Chen's figure vanished, appearing in front of the brown-haired youth in one step. He struck down with a palm-blade, while his other hand steadied the Basded Spear, driving it forward.

The palm-blade was windless, ethereal, as if weightless—a faint light flickered, but no thunderous roar of breaking air. The ancient spear, by contrast, blazed with blinding red light, its crimson beams flaring several meters. It grazed the dodging youth, nearly piercing him.

"Remember, the man who kills you is Mölikarin!" The youth shouted, moving like a specter straight for the spear shaft, intending to grip it and hoist Xiao Chen into the air. But Xiao Chen gave him no chance. With no wasted motion—in fact, he could not afford violent movements—he slid his left foot back half a step, stepped forward with his right, and seized the red spear that pierced his ribs. The spear's edge traced bloody arcs in the void, spreading a curtain of blood that sealed off all Mölikarin's advance.

Startlingly red, blindingly fierce. The cold killing edge of the Basded Spear was now wielded as Xiao Chen's own weapon.

"Heh!"

Mölikarin snorted, throwing a punch at the blood curtain. He was a Ninth Heaven expert after all, and though wounded by Xiao Chen's footstep technique, his combat power remained largely intact. He chose to strike head-on, wearing a cold grin, certain that the grievously injured Xiao Chen could not withstand it.

But he was disappointed.

Xiao Chen moved like flowing water, lightly drifting several meters, then swept the Basded Spear from the side. He no longer needed to force himself; he could freely sink into the ethereal state he had achieved while fighting Dugu Jianmo. Streams of blade-light swirled like starlight, shrouding him in a hazy mist. He became a drawn divine blade, a peerless weapon.

In his eyes, there was only one target. His opponent was like a straw man, stirring no excess emotion. A target to be slain—nothing more.

His gaze was terrifyingly cold. Immersed in that wondrous state, his battle instinct reached its peak. Everything was fluid, nimble. He was no longer wild, no longer domineering, but the killing intent in his grace only grew.

"Pff, pff!"

Xiao Chen turned sideways, his bloodstained sleeve drifting lightly, then his right palm slashed down, exchanging two blows with Mölikarin. The brown-haired youth could hardly believe Xiao Chen dared to clash directly, but he knew he was wrong. In this state, Xiao Chen was too terrifying. Two strikes left him thunderstruck, his right hand nearly shattered.

The dawn of the Spirit-Treasury realm!

Xiao Chen was on the verge of touching the Spirit-Treasury—that was Mölikarin's conclusion. He had to kill Xiao Chen now! At once! No further delay, or this enemy would become his nightmare.

Fierce combat! Bloody and brutal!

Xiao Chen's vitality was as abundant as ever, seemingly unaffected. His heart was calm as water, eyes cold as ice, body hard as a blade. Though grievously wounded, he seemed to have stepped into a new domain. Every movement was perfectly timed, utterly natural, standing within heaven and earth, united with the Dao.

A clear whistle rang from afar. A figure shot toward Dugu's Castle like lightning, vaulting over the high stone wall. A brown-haired youth charged at Xiao Chen.

At that moment, Xiao Chen's eyes blazed with two terrifying lights. He released his left hand from the spear piercing his own body, and both hands turned into palm-blades, striking at Mölikarin. Mölikarin's eyes gleamed with bloodthirst—his elder brother had arrived! Xiao Chen was doomed! It seemed his brother's intervention was unnecessary, for in that instant, he seized the Basded Spear that transfixxed Xiao Chen. Gripping it hard, he lifted Xiao Chen into the air, a cruel smile spreading across his face.

But that smile froze. Xiao Chen, raised on the spear, was as heavy as a primordial demon mountain, crushing Mölikarin's arms nearly to the breaking point. Xiao Chen grabbed the crimson shaft and pressed down with irresistible force. The spear tip, which had been driven through Xiao Chen's body and pointed forward, now touched Mölikarin's belly.

In that moment, Mölikarin was filled with terror.

"Who dares to harm my brother?!" A roar from nearby—Mölikarin's older brother Yulanmu had rushed over, his eyes splitting with rage.

By now, all things in heaven and earth had vanished from Xiao Chen's sight. In his heart was only one conviction: to drive the spear tip through Mölikarin's body!

Indescribable power surged down. Though his mind was serene and empty, the energy stored in Xiao Chen's body was like the Silver River falling from the Nine Heavens, an unstoppable torrent!

Yulanmu screamed in anguish: "Brother!"

But even his extraordinary speed could not match the momentum of the Basded Spear. The crimson god-spear sank in inch by inch, then plunged into Mölikarin's body!

Mölikarin was horrified beyond belief. He had never imagined that Xiao Chen, already grievously wounded, could still be so terrifying—beyond his capacity to resist. In strength, he could not match him; in momentum, the gap was even wider. He was no match for Xiao Chen, even wounded.

Blood sprayed. The Basded Spear pierced Mölikarin's abdomen. Xiao Chen stood on the ground, his hair wild, enduring excruciating pain as he threw back his head and roared. The blood spear passed through his left side, now gripped in both hands, and with savage strength he hoisted Mölikarin into the air!