Chapter 137: Power That Shocks The Older Generation

The Obsidian Woodlands sky twisted into a grotesque parody of itself, a swirling vortex of inky red clouds that devoured every inch of the celestial canvas. A crimson rain, thick and viscous as fresh blood, began to fall, a chilling testament to the unnatural events unfolding below. Even the stoic royal armory of Golden Steppe, a bastion of unwavering strength, seemed to tilt its imposing structure skyward, as if in morbid curiosity.

Within the confines of Phantom Valley, a frenetic energy pulsed, a palpable sense of dread that even the protective embrace of the Multicolored Dome couldn't entirely quell. The air itself crackled with an unspoken tension, a whisper of impending doom that sent shivers down the spines of even the most seasoned warriors.

"The heavens mourn, and the nine heavens answer their call," Lord Varelith murmured, his voice barely audible above the drumming rain. He stood atop the highest peak in the valley, his usually serene face etched with a deep frown. He had witnessed this terrifying spectacle before, in the hallowed realms of the immortals, and each time, it presaged a calamity, a brutal culling of those powerful few who were tasked with preventing the celestial sphere from collapsing. "This... this shouldn't be happening in the mortal realm. What dark forces are at play here?"

The young man, his youthful appearance a stark contrast to the ancient wisdom in his eyes, stood with his hands clasped behind his back, his gaze fixed on the churning sky. The crimson hue intensified, deepening into a shade of arterial red that seemed to pulse with malevolent energy. Thunderbolts, like the angry whips of celestial deities, lashed out incessantly, illuminating the storm clouds with brief, stark flashes. The wind howled like a banshee, whipping the blood-red rain into a frenzy, and the mournful cry of the heavens echoed across the desolate landscape, a chilling lament for the events unfolding below.

The Varelith then shifted his attention to the Obsidian Gate, a dark portal that seemed to writhe with an energy of its own. With a deliberate, almost ritualistic movement, he extended his hands, making a tearing motion as if rending the very fabric of reality. A rift of pure, consuming darkness ripped open in the air, a gaping maw that sucked in the surrounding atmosphere with a hungry growl.

Varelith, with a sharp, decisive tug of his left hand, pulled two figures tumbling out of the void: Han Yunfei and Ling Meixue. Their bodies were a horrifying tableau of blood and brokenness, their once-proud forms now twisted and broken, riddled with deep, jagged lacerations. Despite sensing the faint aura of the Golden Core Realm emanating from them, their ravaged condition was a profound shock. They were both formidable cultivators; they should have been able to withstand whatever horrors lay beyond the Obsidian Gate.

"What happened in there?" Varelith demanded, releasing his hold on the shattered remnants of their forms as the rent-in space sealed itself shut. The exertion, slight as it seemed, visibly paled his already ashen complexion. He disregarded his discomfort, his focus entirely on the two injured disciples.

A short distance away, the four elders of Phantom Valley watched with horrified fascination. They were intimately familiar with the power wielded by the six cities, and they knew that while Han Yunfei and Ling Meixue might not be able to conquer everyone within the Obsidian Gate, they were certainly capable of defending themselves. Seeing them brought to such a state sent waves of unease crashing through their ranks 'Are there juniors this strong in the other cities?' They thought. As Lord Varelith turned to them, his expression demanding answers, they dared not delay their report.

"Reporting to my lord," Ling Meixue stammered, her head bowed low in shame and pain. "The man... the man we were sent to apprehend... he did this. Not just to us, but to the elite cultivators of all the major cities. The two top rankers from Thunderclap and Mists Ridge... they were killed, body and soul, along with countless others."

"He reached the Golden Core Realm that quickly?" Varelith mused, his hand going to his chin, his mind grappling with the implications.

"No, my lord," Han Yunfei interjected, surprising everyone by taking the lead. His voice was strained, each word an effort. "When we were forced out, he showed no signs of possessing the aura of the Golden Core Realm. But... his combat strength... it was enough to slaughter those who had achieved that level. Silver City's Little Sword Emperor, who was on the very threshold of the second stage of the Golden Core, was also defeated. The object of his desire... it appeared to be two flames, imbued with the very essence of the sun and moon."

"Intriguing," Varelith murmured, his eyes hardening into chips of glacial ice. He frowned, the pieces of the puzzle beginning to fit together, forming a disturbing picture. Exceptional talent, the mourning of the heavens... it all pointed towards something extraordinary, something dangerous that the heavens want dead. "Elder Bia, you're with me." Varelith turned abruptly, his body dissolving into a swirling wisp of smoke. Elder Bia vanished an instant later as if yanked away by an unseen hand. The remaining elders exchanged uneasy glances before rushing to the side of the two injured disciples, desperate for more information.

At the Sunlit Vanguard armory, all eyes were also fixed on the roiling storm clouds above. General Jin Kael, his gaze burning with the intensity of a dying star, felt a cold dread creeping into his heart, a premonition of disaster that he couldn't shake off. "Elder Po, you are in command in my absence," he commanded, his voice ringing with authority. "Lieutenant Mira, come with me." Jin Kael placed a reassuring hand on his lieutenant's shoulder, the air around him crackling with barely contained power. With an explosive burst of speed that defied the raging storm, he launched himself into the blood-red clouds, disappearing into the heart of the tempest.

Just outside the Obsidian Gate, Ji Moran materialized, instantly surrounded by members of her clan who appeared with breathtaking speed. Even her father, who had been absent before, now stood protectively at her side, his hand resting on her shoulder the moment she appeared, a long, gleaming sword held in his other. A palpable aura of killing intent permeated the air as the elders of Thunderclap City roared their fury.

"Father... what is happening?" Ji Moran's voice was weak, still disoriented from the oppressive pressure of the Heart of the Dark Ages.

"The survivors' accounts... they accuse you and Jiang Feng of a massacre within, including the deaths of Zhan Huito and Gao Zhenlei. Elder Huoyan and Gao Yundian are demanding your lives. But they will have to pry it from my cold, dead hands," Ji Xiong snarled, his voice filled with protective rage. He turned to face his daughter, but his words died in his throat as his eyes widened in shock.

He could feel the biting cold radiating from her, an aura of icy power that sent shivers down his spine. The Ji clan had hidden her prodigious talent for years, fearing she would be targeted, but now, her suppressed power thrummed beneath the surface, her eyes turning glacial as she absorbed his words. He also sensed the undeniable presence of her Golden Core, a testament to her astonishing progress. "Moran... you've reached the Golden Core Realm?" he asked, his voice trembling slightly with a mixture of awe.

But his daughter remained silent, her gaze fixed on a point in the distance. Ji Xiong followed her line of sight and saw a young man standing there, his eyes radiating such raw power that they sent a shockwave through his mind. A collective gasp echoed through the crowd as many were forced to shield their eyes from the sheer intensity of his presence.

"Kill him!" Gao Yundian shrieked, his face contorted with grief and rage when he took notice of Jiang Feng's presence. A bolt of lightning erupted from his Ling spear, a desperate, uncontrolled attack fueled by the loss of his son, the aura of the Nascent Soul realm rumbled, causing the ground to shake frantically. The moment Jiang Feng appeared, the storm above seemed to respond, unleashing a furious barrage of lightning down on him.

"How dare you!" Lin Moyi roared, a whirlwind of furious energy erupting around his body as he positioned himself between Gao Yundian and Jiang Feng. His staff, imbued with the power of the storm and soul wind, lashed out like a striking dragon, meeting the spear and lightning head-on.

Two Nascent Soul cultivators, their power capable of reshaping mountains, clashed, their battle shaking the very heavens. Lightning rained down upon them as they fought, the air thick with the smell of ozone. Zhen Chen, his face grim, soared into the sky, his cultivation base causing the heavens to tremble, as he deployed a massive formation that blanketed the sky and began to descend, a cage of pure energy. Elder Huoyan of Mists Ridge City had made his move, and Zhen Chen was forced to intercept him, preventing him from reaching Jiang Feng.

"Everyone, kill that kid now!" Gao Yundian shrieked, his voice laced with venom.

Jiang Feng, his body wracked with excruciating pain, seemed oblivious to the chaos erupting around him. Dozens of lightning bolts hammered down upon him, but he remained focused on the sky, his gaze unwavering as he welcomed his third tribulation lightning. If he didn't die, then the Golden Core Realm would only be one step away.

"Die brat!" A Thunderclap City elder, a cultivator in the late stages of the Essence Condensation Stage, on the cusp of forming his own Golden Core, saw an opportunity. Seeing Jiang Feng seemingly incapacitated by the lightning strikes, he used a lightning-fast movement technique to close the distance while Lin Moyi was occupied. His hand, crackling with lightning, transformed into a deadly blade, aimed at Jiang Feng's neck, right from the start, the elder came looking for blood.

Hearing the breaking of the wind as the attack approached, Jiang Feng's lips curled into a faint, almost imperceptible smile, from the moment met Gao Zhenlie, he hated everything about him, and that included where he lived and the family who raised him. His eyes, still locked on the heavens, glowed with an otherworldly light as he whispered to himself, "It begins."

The air around him shimmered, and for a moment, time itself seemed to slow. The elder's lightning blade halted inches from Jiang Feng's throat, frozen in mid-air. The storm above roared in response, a deafening crescendo of thunder and lightning that shook the earth. Jiang Feng's body began to glow, a radiant aura of gold and blue flames erupting from his core, intertwining like the sun and deep sky in a celestial dance.

Bang!

The elder who had made it close to Jiang Feng had his head exploded. Jiang Feng looked at the falling corps as he pulled back his fist which blazed with power and burning flames. Shortly after, the dead elder's body expoled into a bloody mist.

The elders of Thunderclap City, their faces pale with terror, took a collective step back after seeing this. Even Gao Yundian, consumed by rage, was shocked to see this, his spear trembling in his grasp. Ji Moran, her icy gaze locked on Jiang Feng, felt a surge of power within her as if his awakening had ignited something deep within her soul. The cold killing power in that one-fist had her blood boiling.

Varelith, watching from the shadows, clenched his fists. "So, it is true," he muttered. "The Sun and Moon Flames... they have chosen their vessel. The Eternal Clan's hire, but who's this girl, why did the moon flame switch owners?."

As the gold and blue flames enveloped Jiang Feng, the storm above reached its zenith. The heavens themselves seemed to split open, revealing a blinding light that bathed the land in its radiance. The Obsidian Gate, once a portal of darkness, began to crack and crumble, its energy absorbed by the red clouds above. Jiang Feng looked up once more, he could see a figure taking form, but he couldn't quite make out that figure's appearance.

All the other juniors who were beaten and battered looked at Jiang Feng as if they were looking at a monster, all six cities and their Nascent Soul Realm elders were present, but that didn't affect him one bite. Using one fist, he reduced an elder to a bloody mist.