This altar was none other than the Dark Altar conjured by Sauron. Within it, his True Name had already been inscribed. The moment the altar appeared, one could feel the surrounding Heaven and Earth energy, dark energy, and even space itself begin to freeze and slow down. An invisible pressure of Dao Rhyme instantly spread outward. Layers of pitch-black darkness rapidly expanded, covering the surroundings like a giant curtain from the heavens — everything in its range was plunged into darkness.
Pff!!
The golden Vermilion Bird sniper round shot straight into the dark canopy. This curtain of darkness was more terrifying than any domain; not only was it filled with the power of darkness, but it also took the form of a black fog — clinging, and laced with intense corrosive energy. Waves of dark power surged toward the golden bullet, madly corroding the energy contained within. The Vermilion Bird divine flames on the bullet visibly weakened.
However, this bullet was no ordinary ammunition — it had been fired from the innate spiritual treasure, the Vermilion Bird Sniper Rifle. Though it looked like a bullet, it was actually the pure power of the Vermilion Bird condensed into form — both tangible and intangible, fully composed of Vermilion Bird power and infused with the energy of the stars, aligned with the Vermilion Bird constellation. The power it contained was unimaginable. Its piercing force was especially terrifying. As it rotated, it continuously tore through the curtain of darkness.
Even as the Vermilion Bird's power was worn down, it still didn't stop moving forward.
Ding!!
The Vermilion Bird bullet advanced resolutely, piercing through the layers of darkness. However, as it neared Sauron, it could go no further. The Dark Altar now stood in its way. As the bullet collided with the altar, a clear, crisp sound rang out. Mysterious dark runes surfaced from the altar, and ancient sacrificial chants echoed through the air.
Profound laws of darkness flowed through the altar.
When the Vermilion Bird bullet struck the altar, a black light barrier appeared. This barrier didn't last long — it shattered shortly after. The bullet slammed directly into the altar's main body, causing another sharp sound. The Vermilion Bird's power exploded into intense divine flames, madly covering the altar and attempting to burn it down into ash.
However, waves of dark power surged forth, constantly extinguishing the Vermilion Bird flames.
It was like water and fire in direct conflict — violent sounds rang out. Some of the runes on the altar were destroyed by the flames, and the divine fire was gradually diminished. In the blink of an eye, all the Vermilion Bird flames were gone. Yet on the altar, one could now see several tiny cracks. They were few in number and not very deep, barely visible unless you looked closely. But a crack was still a crack.
This meant the altar had been damaged.
"Such a terrifying assassination. Such a domineering innate treasure,"Sauron's face was ice-cold — nearly livid.
One must understand: at the Dao Platform Realm, the altar one refines is the embodiment of one's Dao Fruit. It carries one's Dao and is constructed using the rarest treasures of heaven and earth. The very essence of those materials was on par with, if not superior to, innate spiritual treasures. In some ways, a Dao Platform practitioner's altar was a kind of alternative innate treasure. In critical moments, it could clash with actual innate treasures without fear. A powerful altar could even crush an innate treasure outright.
For cultivators, the altar was the very foundation of their power.
Thus, when refining their altar, cultivators would go to great lengths to gather the most precious materials they could find. The rarer the materials, the more solid the altar, and the greater its power. A top-level divine ability user didn't even need to wield a spiritual treasure — the aura from their altar alone could destroy all kinds of magical tools.
Sauron's Dark Altar had three layers. Normally, it could easily resist standard innate treasures. Yet at this moment, it had not only been damaged — cracks had appeared, and many of its sacrificial runes were destroyed. Repairing it would take who-knows-how-long. And because the altar was bound to his life, when it cracked, Sauron's body shook as if struck by thunder, and he immediately coughed up a mouthful of blood.
This injury to his altar was a blow to his entire cultivation path.
What was even more terrifying was the power of that Vermilion Bird sniper rifle — truly tyrannical.
At that moment, outside the Dark Fortress, a man wearing a plain robe and an expressionless face stood with a long saber strapped to his back. The saber looked ancient and simple, and hidden within its sheath, it emitted no trace of edge or killing intent.
This was none other than Fu Hongxue.
"Perfect timing... Let me finish the job!"
A cold gleam flashed in Fu Hongxue's eyes. He had seen everything unfold. He knew full well: now was the moment Sauron was at his weakest — his armor had been stripped, his Dark Eye stolen, even his "two jewels" were gone, his Supreme Dark Ring taken, and all his advantages wiped out. He had just been dealt a deadly blow from the Vermilion Bird sniper, even his altar was cracked. In short — this was Sauron's most vulnerable moment.
If you don't strike now — when will you?
A heaven-sent opportunity.
With a flip of his hand, Fu Hongxue grabbed the saber's hilt. Blood essence, saber origin, saber intent — even his spirit, energy, and soul were all concentrated into the weapon. Power flowed into the blade. The saber began to tremble in its sheath, as if eager to be unleashed.
One inch.
Two inches.
Three inches…
The snow-white blade slowly slid out from its sheath.
Saber-drawing techniques weren't just about speed or frequency. Timing and rhythm mattered too. While fast-draw techniques could indeed be lightning-quick and deadly, that wasn't their true essence.
The real essence lay in hiding the blade, storing power within the sheath — refining one's saber intent with spirit, energy, and soul until, in that instant of unsheathing, it could explode with many times its normal strength. One slash — heaven-shattering. That kind of saber was truly unstoppable.
Fu Hongxue had trained in this Saber-Drawing Art — "Heaven-Slashing Saber Draw."Within it was the will to cut down the heavens themselves. Even if the sky stood before him, one slash must shatter it. That's the courage required to master this art.
The longer the buildup before drawing, the greater the power.
And now, ever since leaving the Tongtian Pavilion and arriving here, Fu Hongxue had been preparing for this moment. Even though only a few inches of the blade had emerged, an unstoppable killing aura was already leaking from it. This process, while seemingly slow — with each inch visible to the naked eye — was in fact so fast it deceived the senses.
"Such a powerful saber technique. A worthy opponent indeed,"Not far away, a black-robed middle-aged man with an iron sword on his back observed. His eyes had never left Fu Hongxue. Even at the early stages of the draw, he could sense the unparalleled killing edge hidden within the saber. The intent alone could not be contained by the scabbard.
"Slash!"
The instant the blade fully left the sheath, Fu Hongxue spat out one icy word.
The moment the word left his mouth, the saber was already cleaving downward.
A matchless saber intent shot skyward. Accompanied by the swing, it turned into a divine saber that stretched for thousands of feet — fully materialized, no trace of illusion. A colossal blade of divine force, as if countless beings were screaming within it.
Slash the Heavens!
Slash the Heavens!!
This strike — enough to tear apart the sky, erase gods and Buddhas, darken sun and moon.
Ka-cha!!
The saber light fell. The barrier around the Dark Fortress materialized — a black screen enveloping the fortress. Yet under the saber's terrifying intent, the barrier shattered instantly — cleaved clean in two. The saber's power was unstoppable.
Rumble!!!
Under the saber's arc, palaces were shattered. Any dark soldiers or puppets it touched were instantly torn apart — their souls shredded, their will annihilated.
"DAMN IT! Am I, Sauron, just some public punching bag for you people?! First thieves, then assassins — now a finisher too? What the hell is this — a public latrine?"
Sauron's nose twisted in fury — literally. First thieves stole from him. Then assassins tried to take his life. And now someone came just to finish the job. Did everyone just assume he was supposed to die? What was this? Who had he offended to deserve such relentless targeting?
Although in a fair fight, none of them could beat him. Fully equipped, Supreme Dark Ring in hand — he was confident that these clowns wouldn't scratch him.
Just thinking about the ring made his heart ache.
But it was too late now. The Heaven-Slashing saber light was already descending. Its threat was mortal. The only choice — he had to crash his Dark Altar into it again.
"Smash it to pieces for me! I'm not someone just anyone can kill! You think I won't get angry?!"
Sauron's face twisted with rage, his eyes filled with fury and madness.
Even if it meant serious injury, he would let these filthy sneaks know — Sauron was not someone to be trampled on!