The War Clan's Challenge

Mount Wuyi lies in the southeast of the Nine Provinces, renowned as a land of "jade waters and cinnabar peaks, unparalleled beauty in the southeast." Countless strange peaks and fantastical rocks dotted the landscape—some stood like upright swords, majestic and perilous; others were rounded like moistened bamboo shoots, graceful and elegant. Clear springs, plunging waterfalls, mountain streams, and flowing brooks murmured incessantly, filled with spiritual energy.

Within Mount Wuyi, a War Clan powerhouse with fiery red hair—like a blaze of burning flames—strode forward in steps that spanned dozens of zhang. His eyes flashed with dazzling light as he approached the illusory figure of Xiao Chen. "Even if you are but a phantom, I have a way to force you out!"

His eyes shot forth two strange beams aimed at Xiao Chen's illusion. The very space began to collapse; honeycomb-like black holes appeared around Xiao Chen, engulfing and swallowing him.

His gaze could pierce the void and see directly into the origin of things. It seemed capable of severing Xiao Chen's connection to the world of the dead. Like a heavenly blade, it struck Xiao Chen, causing his illusory form to convulse as if struck by lightning, materializing into a solid body.

This was an exceptionally terrifying expert—the first person ever able to force Xiao Chen from insubstantiality to substance. He burst out of that void region and landed on a massive boulder, staring in shock at the red-haired youth.

The War Clan. An ancient and powerful race, matching the oldest of gods. They had long since vanished from the world, lost to the endless passage of time.

They were born warriors, gifted with incomparable talent. Even as children, without conscious cultivation, their battle power grew with each passing day. Simply by reaching adulthood, they attained strength above the demigod level. Naturally, if they cultivated earnestly, their achievements would be even greater. This clan never lacked for experts.

Heaven was fair. Perhaps because they were too powerful—not much weaker than the Dragon Clan—their population had always been exceedingly small. At their peak, they never numbered ten thousand; at their lowest, a mere few dozen, teetering on the brink of extinction.

The red-haired youth resembled an ancient god. His cultivation was utterly unfathomable; he stood there already merged with heaven and earth.

Though he clearly stood atop a huge mountain stone, his body seemed to vanish, making him impossible to sense. Only his eyes—a pair of piercingly sharp eyes—proved he was there.

After forcing Xiao Chen out, he silently scrutinized him for a long time before speaking. "You do not belong to this world. But I do not know whence you came. My adversary will arrive soon. I will give you one chance to speak and declare your origin. Otherwise, there is only one outcome—annihilation."

The sights and experiences of these past days had deeply moved Xiao Chen. The flesh-and-blood Xiao Chen was already powerful enough, yet now a Sacred Dragon could contend with him, having been driven to the desolate western lands. Now this War Clan expert, whose depth was entirely unfathomable, had appeared. Xiao Chen could not help but sigh—perhaps the role of protagonist among humankind in this world was about to change.

After all, the Hundred Races were about to emerge. Only two or three strong individuals from two powerful races had just stepped forth, and countless more supreme experts were certain to appear in succession.

"Mäbäo! I have come!"

At that moment, a long cry rang out from the distant sky. A golden divine light, like a rainbow of the gods, streaked across the heavens, dazzling and brilliant. The entire sky was filled with golden splendor.

Was this the adversary the War Clan powerhouse had been awaiting? The intense energy fluctuations caused the entire Wuyi range to tremble—a testament to the terrifying power of this newcomer.

Sensing the powerful fluctuations from afar, the red-haired War Clan expert Mäbäo erupted like a mountain with incomparable energy—not directed at the distant expert, but facing Xiao Chen. "I grant you death."

Like a supreme emperor pronouncing judgment, he pointed one finger forward. An eerie red light instantly tore through the sky, enveloping Xiao Chen directly. It was swift beyond measure.

This was the most ferocious and terrifying finger technique Xiao Chen had ever seen. It was as if a crimson Ancestral Dragon had come to kill him. Without the Eight-Aspect Extreme Speed in his current state, he could not evade.

This finger technique was absolutely comparable to the Hand of the Supreme Being. But Xiao Chen, having lost his flesh and blood, could not execute the Hand of the Supreme Being. He had no choice but to stir the Weng Syllable of the Eight Syllables of Origin to counter his foe.

He did not wish to reveal his identity. No thunderous heavenly sound shook the sky; only the vibration of the soul—an invisible wave of destruction rolling toward that eerie red radiance.

A silent collision. When the two energies met, it seemed as though annihilation had occurred. Space around them collapsed and disintegrated one after another, splitting open a patch of pitch-black "honeycomb caverns."

The Weng Syllable shattered the red beam and advanced toward the War Clan youth Mäbäo.

"Eh?"

For the first time, the red-haired powerhouse showed surprise. This time, he extended two fingers and pointed again. A blood-colored radiance blazed fiercely, a patch of crimson so intense it seemed as if blood had dyed the very heavens.

The Weng Syllable, having broken through the first blood beam, had begun to weaken by the time it struck the second. Meeting these twin crimson beams, it was halted.

"Boom!"

This time there was no silence—a violent collision erupted. The heavenly sound met the blood-red light. A burst of annihilating energy exploded, obliterating a vast stretch of space.

Xiao Chen retreated at extreme speed, dodging the lethal storm. The red-haired youth Mäbäo's methods shocked him. Was this finger technique not a concentrated release of combat power each time, but rather each successive finger doubling the force? He had to admit that this red-haired War Clan youth was far more powerful than he had been at his peak. Even the newly emerged flesh-and-blood Xiao Chen probably could not withstand the full force of this man's ten fingers together.

All this happened in an instant. A cold snort echoed from the distant sky. Dazzling golden light illuminated Mount Wuyi. The red-haired War Clan expert Mäbäo's adversary had arrived.

Amid the resplendent golden radiance, a tall, upright figure slowly descended. His long golden hair was as bright as condense sunlight, shining brilliantly. Most eye-catching was the third vertical eye on his forehead. Majestic poise emanated from him, a powerful presence, his entire being wrapped in sacred golden light.

It was the peerless Golden Lion King!

The red-haired youth had used two fingers together, but they only cut off the residual force of the Weng Syllable—they did not truly destroy Xiao Chen. This surprised Mäbäo slightly. But now his awaited adversary had arrived, and he had no more attention to spare. He turned to face the Golden Lion King.

The Golden Lion King cast a somewhat surprised glance at the purple-diamond skeletal Xiao Chen, then said to the red-haired youth, "Mäbäo, your War Clan pushes too far."

Standing atop a massive rock, Mäbäo's voice was calm. "Why speak so? You are a scion of one of the four royal War Clan lineages. You and I are both of the War Clan—how can there be any distinction between us?"

The Golden Lion King snapped, "Enough! I am I. You are you. I have nothing to do with your War Clan."

The red-haired youth, mysteriously profound, seemed to have merged with heaven and earth. Standing there motionless, his tone remained unhurried. "Why deceive yourself? The War Clan has four royal lineages. Your line is the most unique, passed down through a single heir, the most scarce. In the past, your ancestor left the War Clan to save the Buddha over a dispute of pride. But you must know your roots lie in the War Clan."

"Our race is unique, the only one of its kind in heaven and earth. Our ancestors severed ties with the War Clan long ago. Speaking of this now is pointless!" The Golden Lion King was utterly cold.

The red-haired War Clan youth Mäbäo fixed his gaze on the Lion King. "Even if your line departed, how has the War Clan ever treated you poorly? From the moment you were born, War Clan experts guarded you. If our clansmen had not dispatched protectors, could you have achieved what you have today?"

"I don't want to hear these old accounts. I only know that I am the unique one, and I do not belong to the War Clan."

"You would forsake your own people?" The red-haired youth's gaze grew gradually sharper, boring into the Golden Lion King, who was entirely shrouded in golden divine light.

"I don't wish to say more. I only tell you this: I am unique. I belong to no other race." The Golden Lion King was exceptionally forceful, his towering radiance illuminating the ten directions.

"Unique… Has any of the War Clan's royal lineages ever been mediocre?" The red-haired youth Mäbäo's tone turned cold, his eyes ruthless. "Then let us see which of the four royal lineages is stronger and which is weaker. If you win, I will let you go. If you lose, you will come with me immediately."

"Even Heaven cannot collect me. What can you do to me?" The Golden Lion King was forceful to the utmost—utterly unafraid of the red-haired War Clan youth.

"Fine! Let strength decide!" Mäbäo said, then stepped forward. He merged with heaven and earth, his true body fused into the great world, as if channeling the power of the entire world as he struck at the Golden Lion King.

Heaven and earth trembled. The Golden Lion King was undaunted. Behind him, a thousand feet of golden divine light soared into the clouds, meeting the red-haired War Clan youth.

Xiao Chen, in his purple-diamond skeletal form, stood not far away, clearly hearing every word. The Golden Lion King was actually from the War Clan—that was astonishing news.

The Golden Lion King had unlimited potential. Back in the day, when the Little Defiant Dragon had not yet grown, it could not rival him. Only the snowy-white little beast Keke could firmly suppress him. Many legends circulated about him in the outside world, yet not a single one had truly guessed his origins.

This was indeed a momentous revelation!

At this moment, Mäbäo and the Golden Lion King were locked in fierce battle high in the sky. Seeming unwilling to destroy Mount Wuyi, they rose higher and higher, engaging in a life-or-death clash at the horizon.

The War Clan was famous for its martial prowess—naturally, every scion of their two royal lineages was a matchless warrior. Their fight was a cataclysmic divine war. The two turned into golden and crimson beams, tearing the sky apart as they battled furiously.

The Golden Lion King was ferocious beyond compare, swift as wind and lightning. Ancient battle techniques emerged one after another. Finally, he unleashed lethal arts: his left eye represented reincarnation, his right eye represented destruction—forbidden divine principles both. The Eye of Destruction released beams of deathly radiance, sweeping toward his powerful foe.

The Destruction Eye of old could no longer compare with its current state. The Golden Lion King had transformed so profoundly that he had achieved true evolutionary supremacy. The very heavens and earth seemed to tremble at the emergence of such terrible power. Two beams of light shattered all obstacles.

The red-haired War Clan youth Mäbäo's eyes were like sharp swords. Though no terrifying energy burst forth, they could pierce the void, see directly into the origin, and for a moment sever the deadly light. Both his hands spread, ten fingers fully extended. Ten blood-colored beams shot straight into the clouds, blazing and blinding, then cleaved downward, sweeping toward the Golden Lion King.

Brilliant light exploded in the sky. An endless sea of blood-red radiance engulfed the Golden Lion King. Rumbling peals echoed without cease, as if ten thousand bolts of lightning had crashed down.

"Boom!"

The Golden Lion King was sent flying backward, a trace of golden blood seeping from the corner of his mouth. He had fought with his Eye of Destruction and suffered a small loss—a testament to the fearsome power of the red-haired War Clan youth Mäbäo.

The two mighty experts stood in silent opposition. This exchange was but a prelude; it did not determine who was stronger. The true battle had only just begun.

"You cultivate the Heaven-Fault Finger…" the Golden Lion King said flatly, staring at his powerful foe.

The red-haired War Clan youth Mäbäo, merged with heaven and earth, his hair like crimson flame, nodded. "Correct."

"'The sun reaches its zenith then moves; the moon, full, then wanes. Flourishing then decaying is the constant law of heaven and earth.' Thus, imperfection allows for limitless attainment of perfection… Heaven—Fault—Finger." The Golden Lion King muttered to himself, pointing out the terror of the Heaven-Fault Finger.

Without question, this was a combat technique of terrifying extremity.

From afar, Xiao Chen silently took in all of this. He knew that even if he now had flesh and blood, pitting the Hand of the Supreme Being against the Heaven-Fault Finger would inevitably end in defeat.

Not because the Heaven-Fault Finger absolutely suppressed the Hand of the Supreme Being—rather, the red-haired youth's absolute strength surpassed his own. For equally peerless battle skills, the outcome depended on the practitioner's cultivation.

In the years since he had fallen, he had only now recovered his former power. But the world was no longer what it had been. The Hundred Races were about to appear together; kings were emerging. Others had been improving all these years; this was no longer his era. He had to become stronger.

Xiao Chen felt somewhat disheartened. He needed to quickly rise to the Yellow-Diamond realm and enhance his power. At the same time, he had to begin purifying his soul; otherwise, the Weng Syllable of the Eight Syllables of Origin could not be unleashed to its utmost.

Just then, the War Clan expert Mäbäo suddenly spread the five fingers of his left hand and swept them toward him. Five streaks of blood-red light, like five enormous bolts of lightning, fell from the sky—but they were far more terrifying than lightning. Simultaneously, Mäbäo unleashed another dreadful divine ability: violet light poured down from the heavens. Mäbäo wanted to first eliminate this observer.

Xiao Chen's skeletal frame flickered with crystalline luster as he prepared to counter. But at that moment, a tremendous tearing force wrenched at him. His figure vanished instantly.

His time in the corporeal state had a limit. When that time ran out, he was automatically pulled back to the world of the dead.

At the bottom of the bone well, the ground was strewn with multicolored brilliant diamond fragments, glittering brightly. Returning here, Xiao Chen was filled with battle spirit. He needed to become stronger, stronger, still stronger.

The world had changed completely. The Hundred Races were about to emerge; the most dazzling golden age was about to dawn. An era of experts was arriving. If he remained complacent, he would surely be eliminated.

The War Clan, the Dragon Clan, the Beauty Clan, the Fallen Angel Clan, the Ancient God Clan… too many powerful races. Even if only one king from each race emerged, it would be enough to stir up endless turmoil across the Nine Provinces.

The first appearances of the War Clan and the Sacred Dragon Clan were a spur to Xiao Chen.

The world of the dead, though dull and monotonous, was a sacred cultivation ground for Xiao Chen in his current skeletal form.

He resolved not to return to the Nine Provinces until he had cultivated to the Yellow-Diamond realm!