The surrounding divine power surged toward Du Yu like a tide.
The Ghost-Headed Blade in his hand rang out with blade-cries—growing louder and louder!
There was no doubt: Du Yu was gathering blade force.
“Since you asked for a full-power strike, I’ll show you my all!” he thought.
Ye Yu made no move to interrupt. He hovered before the Demon God, watching in silence as events unfolded.
Seeing this, old dog Goulangt tried to slip away. He knew he’d crossed Wuliang Palace’s elders and had publicly called Ye Yu a paper tiger. Now Ye Yu would surely hold a grudge and demand his life. If Du Yu’s strike failed to kill Ye Yu, his own death was certain. Of course he must flee!
But before he could turn, a dozen Jiyue Pavilion gods closed in around him—among them Golden God–realm experts. Outnumbered, he was trapped.
Bewildered, he protested, “Fellow Daoists, what are you doing? Don’t forget—we all belong to Jiyue Pavilion!”
At his words, the gods sneered.
“Ask yourself: were you planning to run? The Supreme God named you to stay—if you flee, we’re doomed. So you’d better obey!”
“Yeah, don’t ‘fellowship’ us—we’re not alike. You’re just Third Elder’s lackey. You never underwent the formal induction; you don’t even have a Pavilion badge. On what basis do you claim to be one of us?”
Goulangt bristled. Before Ye Yu’s arrival, even the elders had called him “sir.” Now that they faced death, they drew strict lines. How infuriating! He struggled wildly to break free, but failed—he had underestimated their strength and resolve to survive. He bit back curses; these gods were utterly terrified of Ye Yu, and he posed no threat. Hence their cruelty.
He threw back his head and howled in frustration. He had lived by caution—by clinging to life—and believed firmly that “he who endures to the end is the true victor.” He’d outlasted countless rivals to seize the Xuanba Devourer-Heaven Axe, even serving the elders as a lackey for security. Yet this was his fate. How ironic! His only hope lay in Du Yu’s blade vanquishing Ye Yu—but that chance was vanishingly small. Ye Yu’s confidence was clear. Goulangt sighed again.
All around him, the gods stood ready, afraid he might slip away. Hanyue Xi watched closely, her brow furrowed, then realization dawned: ancient beast apparitions hid in every direction, deterring the gods from fleeing. Ye Yu had forced them to keep watch over Goulangt!
She glanced up at the figure in the sky, perplexed by this man she could no longer understand.
At that moment, Du Yu had finished gathering his blade force. He stepped forward, single-handed knife poised. Around him, space itself seemed to tear.
He declared, “I name this strike ‘Return to Unity!’ All things return to unity, all gods return to unity, the world returns to unity! No matter what stands before me, I will reduce it to nothing!”
“This is a divine technique I recently comprehended,” he added. “I’ve yet to use it on anyone—you should feel honored!”
As he finished speaking, his mid-grade divine artifact, the Ghost-Headed Blade, shattered! The fractured blades did not fall but whirled around him, soon fusing with his body. In that moment, everyone felt a peculiar sensation: Du Yu was the blade, and the blade was Du Yu. He had refined the artifact into himself.
Some gods, after a moment’s shock, could only marvel at such ruthless determination—few could attempt such a feat.
Du Yu raised his right hand. A black blade-aura appeared, and the surrounding space rippled like water. The blade’s edge advanced irresistibly, in an instant reaching before the colossal Demon God. The very fabric of space was torn, and even the Demon God’s form trembled—yet its golden pupils remained as bright as ever.
With the blade poised to shatter the Demon God, every god present held their breath, eyes fixed on the scene. Could a miracle occur? Especially old dog Goulangt—his heart pounded with hope. If Du Yu succeeded, he might live after all.
Hanyue Xi’s brow furrowed. That strike was too sharp, imbued with primal Dao essence—truly unstoppable. Had Ye Yu been overconfident? If he’d struck preemptively, not giving Du Yu time to gather power, perhaps all would differ... but there ⊛ Nоvеlιght ⊛ (Read the full story) were no ifs.
Just as everyone believed Ye Yu would fall, Du Yu’s expression grew ever more solemn...
