The long wind swept the western banners, myriad colors burning through the clouds.
Boluo raised his eyes into a field of crimson, where countless spiritual lights flashed and Tribulation Transcendence Dao resonance tolled like a great bell, thoroughly disrupting every aura in the vicinity.
The center of the clash had fallen completely silent.
The interplay of each side's divine abilities and Dao resonance annihilated sound itself — only at the outermost edges could one hear the roar that shook heaven and earth.
From the very start, Boluo's side had been at a disadvantage. And as time wore on, the situation only worsened. From being able to catch his breath and speak a few words, he was now reduced to fighting for his life with every fiber of his being, carving a path through the sea of Tribulation Transcendence cultivators.
Bai Xuanling's target was clear — Boluo, straight and true.
Even as wish-power burned like fire and origin power was spent without restraint, Boluo squeezed every last drop of energy he could rely on — and still could only trade wounds for survival.
Countless streams of light flowed, and every single one was enough to claim a life.
On this battlefield, a Tribulation Transcendence cultivator who arrived alone was mere cannon fodder, and even Mahayana cultivators could only endure a few more exchanges.
Fang Jin's body plummeted downward. His origin power ignited on contact, and he charged straight into the Xuanqing Heavenly Sect Supreme Elder who had been forming a formation to hold the line — buying Boluo a sliver of breathing room.
But the price was equally clear.
Fang Jin had fallen into the formation's midst, facing five Tribulation Transcendence cultivators alone in their encirclement.
Barring the unforeseeable, his fate was already sealed.
Boluo's gaze flickered past — then he had no energy left to spare.
Until a presence that could not be ignored erupted skyward behind him, and the origin power within his body boiled.
Until a figure he no longer recognized revealed a familiar aura, gripping a long sword and charging toward Chu Xingchen without a moment's hesitation.
Boluo's gaze fell on Yuan Qiong's withered frame, his origin power thin and shallow. Boluo's trident blocked an incoming Tribulation Transcendence cultivator, and his voice was barely a whisper:
"Don't blame me. This is the cost."
The words could only be heard by Boluo himself. In this place where Dao resonance clashed and the fabric of space nearly shattered, such a faint sound was swallowed the instant it left his lips.
But Boluo had never intended for Yuan Qiong to hear them.
Elite demon soldiers erupted from the ground, then surged toward the battlefield of the Great Calamity like a flood.
Most of the elite demon soldiers still lacked sufficient cultivation — the moment they charged in, the shockwaves alone were enough to flatten them. Yet they surged forward like the tide, heedless of death.
Chu Xingchen turned his gaze toward the sky-darkening swarm of demon elites, and the demon commanders who still possessed some fighting strength — though they were few.
Their sacrifice held no meaning for the battle's outcome.
With the great battle upon them, Xiaoyun Hall had cast aside all prior reservations and joined the fray.
Xuanqing Heavenly Sect, Tianyan Sect, and Taidao Sect — the three sects had also entered the field.
Yunmeng Pavilion was on its way. The Buddhist sect was suppressing anomalies in the Western Niu Continent. And many more immortal sects had emerged to lend their aid.
After all, if the Great Calamity could be resolved here and now, then Chu Xingchen — the one born to shoulder it — would not enjoy an excessively elevated reputation.
It would remain a triumph of all eighteen immortal sects fighting together against heaven's tribulation, rather than Chu Xingchen's solo performance.
Naturally, Chu Xingchen could not have cared less about such things.
If the Great Calamity could be quelled peacefully, he had no desire to see true devastation either.
The word "renown" had never been something Chu Xingchen craved.
But clearly, if these demon soldiers' suicidal charges held no meaning for the battle, then their purpose in dying was very significant.
Chu Xingchen raised his eyes and saw many Tribulation Transcendence cultivators from the eighteen immortal sects. Tribulation Transcendence cultivators here were as numerous as hemp stalks. Even Yuan Qiong, who had been charging toward him, was intercepted halfway without Chu Xingchen needing to lift a finger.
The Xuanqing Heavenly Sect's treasure — the Primordial Chaos Twin Spirit Beads — had already been activated by Chu Xingchen before he arrived.
Previously, the spiritual energy of the various cultivators had been a tangled snarl before his eyes. But through the Twin Spirit Beads, everything resolved into only two colors — light and heavy.
Wish-power and spiritual energy were light. Origin power and blood-qi were heavy.
Though Chu Xingchen's view remained a chaotic jumble — like an ink-wash painting splashed across the sky — with light and heavy qi clashing and intertwining under the Tribulation Transcendence cultivators' might, without the concealment of each faction's Dao resonance and secret arts, he could at last track the flow of both.
Especially the demon elites that poured into this killing ground like cannon fodder.
After being slaughtered, their origin power was swept away by the Dao resonance for a moment, then sank rapidly downward — flowing toward Heng Wang, who was fleeing like a frightened child.
Heng Wang fled wherever the fighting was thinnest, frequently hiding behind Celestial Demons, and at the first sign of trouble would break and run.
During engagements, he mostly took a single exchange, then dissolved into a mist of blood and withdrew.
So...
Was this the purpose?
Chu Xingchen transmitted to Bai Xuanling, who was pressing Boluo hard:
"Kill the slippery one who keeps running below first. Something's wrong with him."
Bai Xuanling did not hesitate. Her body pivoted instantly, the Qingming leaving her hand. Ten thousand strands of sword intent flew, straight toward the seemingly idle Heng Wang.
Pressure erupted. A single slash leveled the plains.
Ten thousand swords spun, mountains and rivers fractured.
Every strand of Qingming sword intent that streaked forward, upon striking, could sever mountains and seas, cleaving valleys to their depths.
The storm of ten thousand swords engulfed everything. Heng Wang had not even a thought of resistance — his body rapidly dissolved into a mist of blood, slipping through and dodging several blades.
Bai Xuanling saw this and detonated all ten thousand swords at once. Qingming sword intent flooded the earth below.
Cyan light erupted like a shattered jade vessel.
Heng Wang had deployed some unknown technique — his body transformed into a cloud of blood mist, and though Bai Xuanling had obliterated most of it, he still managed to extract himself.
But the next instant, Huang Miao also broke free and gave chase toward the fleeing Heng Wang.
Heng Wang, who had been fleeing and dodging combat, was suddenly pursued by two ferocious cultivators.
With Bai Xuanling no longer suppressing him, Boluo's stance visibly lightened.
He watched Heng Wang's wretched flight, then turned his gaze to Chu Xingchen.
It seemed things were proceeding faster than expected.
But Yuan Qiong had arrived even sooner than anticipated.
Boluo exhaled. The wish-power surging skyward instantly retracted, flooding back into Boluo's body, expanding his frame and the armor upon it.
The luster of the Dao Authority flashed from the center of Boluo's chest.
The wish-power still burning was drawn back entirely. The flames it had ignited began to scorch every inch of Boluo's body directly, transforming him into a fire-wreathed Asura.
Origin power boiled, making the flames burn even more terribly, blasting skyward. The heat was such that even Tribulation Transcendence cultivators felt it searing.
Every cultivator present stole a glance.
Because the aura Boluo now radiated had clearly risen another level.
Boluo gripped the trident, the Authority's radiance illuminating his form. He raised the trident and leveled it straight at Chu Xingchen, using wish-power as his medium to roar:
"Chu Xingchen — the outcome is decided."
"Today, I am the one who will win."
Chu Xingchen's gaze was calm as he looked upon Boluo's wild, triumphant grin.
The next instant.
Boluo's eyes dissolved into pure radiance. The fire of wish-power around his body extinguished in an instant. The manic grin vanished, replaced by absolute stillness.
If there was no way to wield the Authority's power smoothly—
Then let the power wield him.
As long as one was willing to sacrifice their life, that too was a card to play.