The Primordial World Heaven and Earth twitched and groaned in agony amidst the lingering shockwaves of the Wutai. The cracks across the vault of heaven resembled massive black scars, and the chaotic turbulence of Guixu poured out like pus from them, turning the laws to ashes and reducing all things to nothingness wherever it swept. The earth split apart, with lava and biting cold alternating their ravage in the chaotic storm of Yin and Yang. Mountains and rivers inverted, and the shrieks of the suffering masses were drowned out by the roar of the disintegration of heaven's laws.
Yang Jian’s silver armor was bathed in blood, the golden light of the Heavenly Eye upon his brow flickering like a dying candle. He drove his Three-Pointed Double-Edged Blade deep into the cracked earth, desperately trying to suppress the violently surging dragon veins of the ley lines beneath his feet, which thrashed like a dying behemoth. Every violent spasm of the ley lines caused a thin trace of golden divine blood to spill from the corner of his mouth. Beneath Nezha, the flames of the Wind and Fire Wheels were dim, and his Fire-Tip Spear danced like a dragon, supporting a heaven-burning lotus of fire with great difficulty to carve out a relatively stable space and fend off the ubiquitous spatial fragments and Chaotic Turbulence. His face was pale, and every swing of his spear shook his internal organs. His crimson eyes stared fixedly at the ever-expanding Guixu fissure in the vault of heaven, fi…
Chapter 470