Elder Chiwu looked toward the True Martial Sacred Ground and spoke calmly.
He ignored everyone else, his gaze indifferent as he stared into the sect.
“I’ve always been here, haven’t I?” an old voice echoed from another part of the void.
Elder Chiwu quickly stood up. In the void behind him, the War God Sky Shroud sat in the air.
He held a fishing rod in his hand, casting it slowly from the sky.
It resembled a waterfall plunging thousands of feet. At the bottom of the fishing line, a massive river surged in the void.
This river surged upward as if trying to reach the heavens. Countless fish of various colors rushed wildly toward the hook.
It was just an ordinary fishing rod, yet it stirred up a colossal wave as it descended from the sky. The War God Sky Shroud sat leisurely, appearing relaxed and carefree.
“Sky Shroud, are you going to fight too?” Elder Chiwu asked.
“You’re not enough,” War God Sky Shroud shook his head slightly.
“Back then, after Ancestor Shen Ri shouldered the Heaven’s Will, he praised you greatly and said you could withstand ten moves from him without defeat,” Elder Chiwu snorted.
“But we’re in the same realm. I’ve been waiting for this battle a long time.”
“I said you’re not enough,” Sky Shroud repeated, still shaking his head.
He waved his right hand, and an invisible force spread from his palm. A drop of water surged from the massive river below and landed in his hand.
With a flick of his finger, the water droplet emitted a dazzling light, tearing through space and striking toward Elder Chiwu like a devastating force.
Elder Chiwu snorted coldly, unleashing his overwhelming immortal might. Boundless spiritforce surged from his right hand as he reached to catch the droplet.
With a bang, the droplet pierced through his hand and exploded on the distant horizon, collapsing half the sky.
Elder Chiwu stared at the rapidly healing wound in his hand, frozen in place.
After a long silence, he looked at the relaxed Sky Shroud fishing and took a deep breath.
“You’ve broken into that level?”
“Back then, I helped that Zhen Wu brat open the Imperial Era. I guess I count as the first battle general of this new era. If I didn’t break through, I probably wouldn’t have lived much longer,” Sky Shroud said with a smile.
Hearing this, Elder Chiwu fell into silence.
Grand Emperor Zhen Wu was the first emperor of the Imperial Era, and Sky Shroud was naturally the first war general.
He must have existed far earlier than Elder Chiwu.
Even the later Desolate Era had already passed without Chiwu experiencing it.
“Let the others come out too. Otherwise, none of you are leaving today,” Sky Shroud said calmly.
As his voice fell, ripples once again appeared in the void.
Several figures tore through space and emerged with powerful auras.
There were three figures in total. One wore a blood-red robe.
He was bald but had thick eyebrows, sharp and gloomy eyes resembling those of a hawk.
The moment he appeared, the sound of crashing blood seas echoed around, and the entire sky turned blood red.
“That’s the ancestor of the Blood Nether Sacred Ground, Blood Ancestor, former war general of Grand Emperor Xue Ming!” someone in the watching crowd shouted excitedly.
These ancestors usually remained hidden in seclusion, rarely seen.
“Yes, it’s said he took the name ‘Blood’ and followed Grand Emperor Xue Ming through countless hells, forging a road of fate over mountains of corpses.”
Following Blood Ancestor, another elder in a black robe stepped out slowly.
His face was covered in scars, dense, jagged knife scars, leaving no part intact.
He looked terrifying, holding an iron chain in his hands. His eyes were blood red, and his long hair was messy and unkempt.
“That’s…” someone stared at the black-robed elder in shock, “The Purgatory Sacred Ground’s ancestor, the Heaven-Prison Sage!”
“Looks like these imperial lineages really do intend to go to war with the True Martial Sacred Ground. I wonder if War God Sky Shroud can hold them off,” someone said anxiously.
“It’s not over yet,” another person said, looking toward the Dan Imperial Clan. Another figure emerged from the void.
It was an old man in a sackcloth robe, slightly plump, with a cheerful smile on his face.
His earlobes were large and thick, and his facial skin was so tightly packed it was hard to see his eyes clearly without looking closely.
“That’s Sage Nine-Pill. Legend says that when the Alchemy Emperor refined pills back then, he specifically had Nine-Pill manage the furnace. In terms of alchemy, he’s among the top five across the Primordial Heartlands.”
“Old friends, long time no see,” Nine-Pill said with a warm smile.
He seemed to always smile, showing no other emotion.
“Nine-Pill, give me one of your Nine Heaven Pills. I really miss that feeling,” Elder Chiwu laughed.
“No can do,” Nine-Pill smiled and shook his head. “Unless it’s life or death, I absolutely won’t bring them out. But I do trust in your strength.”
“Sky Shroud, it may seem unfair for the few of us to fight you alone. But in battle, there’s only victory or defeat, no fairness,” Heaven-Prison Sage said calmly.
“These old bones of mine should move a little too,” War God Sky Shroud slowly stood up, stepping out from the void.
“Even if you’ve reached that level, without opening the tenth meridian gate, you still might not beat us,” Blood Ancestor said deeply.
Sky Shroud said nothing more. His aura exploded, stretching across the sky.
The void shattered in front of him, and his pressure grew stronger and stronger, already beginning to overpower the others.
He reached out with both hands, and a pale blue divine sword, cold as ice, broke through layers of void and flew to him.
The blade of the sword was engraved with intricate patterns, now radiating a golden glow.
Sky Shroud held the sword and sighed, “Old friend, let’s fight together again.”
…
At the same time, within the True Martial Sacred Ground, on a mountain hidden in the void.
This mountain had never been visited by anyone else in the sect, and most didn’t even know of its existence.
At this moment, the autumn wind rustled the violet and red flowers on both sides of the peak.
An old man sat on a huge rock at the top, carefully wiping down a long saber in his hands.
His movements were gentle, and with each stroke, the blade looked sharper and sharper.