CHAPTER 642: CHAPTER 642: SPREAD

But as the two marveled, Zhenxue had already set up the camera, gazing at the battlefield where conflict was imminent. "It took a lot of effort to figure this out. I haven’t touched these things in years, and now I realize how little I know about using them."

"Wen Zhu, you...you mean this?"

The Heavenly Sword Merchant looked at Chen Xue, suddenly overwhelmed by an intense wave of emotions, and asked with a tone full of curiosity.

Seeing this, the Truly Spoken One remarked, "Such a natural shot, Brother Yang, the great world of Daitian! Such a spectacle, I couldn’t possibly miss it!"

"Indeed."

Hearing Chen Xue’s words, the Thousand Sword Merchant instantly started sweating. The nearby Shen Yuanba furrowed his brows, saying, "Do you have anything in mind?"

"Of course!"

The Chef Qian chuckled and clapped his hands. "While Yang Tian was trying to obliterate Zong Wen in a single strike, things are so different now within the Xiaxia Cultivation Assembly! It’s fortunate to capture such excellent shots; it’s a reason to cry and beg for Brother Yang’s help!"

Chen Xue turned on the camera’s switch and began shooting diligently.

Yet, Shen Yuanba and the Thousand Sword Merchant, hearing Chen Xue’s words, were left speechless.

They understood the strength of the two, but if one’s power paled in comparison, the scene before them—a billion streams of democracy coursing—was beyond fathomable.

The captured images, for them, resonated deeply, much like the people of the Chinese Cultivation World, as if the scenes demanded to be witnessed and spoken of, again and again, with fervor and disbelief.

Could Yang Tian triumph?

As they pondered this, the two unconsciously reopened their eyes.

Above Mount Olympus, during the Yangchuan Festival, countless Western cultivators were prepared to launch their assault. Their faces bore no recollection, only the piercing declaration from Wu Xi: "Too weak!"

"Too weak indeed."

Upon hearing Yang Tian’s remark, those Western cultivators flared with visible veins, burning with rage.

Gathered together, with half the globe drawn by ranked individuals, in a moment of shared tension and defiance, the scene grew grotesque.

On the other hand, facing these individuals, Yang Chuan seemed to shake both sky and earth, neither air nor ground escaping his reign. Instead of fear or retreat, it was they who appeared feeble!

How could this be endured?

Even in the face of death looming before them, the disappointment was crushing.

Pooling their resources, the surrounding Western ranked individuals were set to converge upon a climactic outcome. The deputy minister declared, "In this instant, we shall rise together, obliterate those madmen, and bring this to an end!"

Han Wen and the Imperial Concubine first raised a hand in salute. Blood-red energy swept across the space in an instant, bloating heavily.

Then, from the Pope Hall and the Pharaoh, the power users launched their respective attacks.

Under the colossal strikes designed by billionaires, an immense energy egg erupted, expanding towards the sky and scattering expansive waves.

Mountain collapsed into mountain, earth cracked open, and the heavens shifted in color.

In mere moments, the surroundings of Liangchuan, everything within eyeshot, were engulfed in an infinite sea of energy, surging fluid endlessly before their eyes.

"He’s dead, isn’t he!"

Above Mount Olympus!

As countless individuals worked together, focusing on the spot where Yang Qian once stood, everyone held their breath.

Simultaneously, triumphant smiles crept across their faces!

Indeed, triumphant smiles!

Ten years ago, Yang Chuan had swept through the world unchallenged.

Who could stand against his edge?

But today, ten years later, his cultivation was shattered by the might of thousands. Extinction-level battle machines unleashed subatomic laser attacks, flinging black holes from their hands, sending shockwaves across Europe, an event of unprecedented magnitude.

The sheer force was extraordinary.

But now, it was all over!

These individuals had assembled all the ranked cultivators in Europe—not out of mere arrogance but out of hope for a victorious world. They would stop at nothing, pulling down anyone in their way!

The blow that struck Yang Chuan could only detonate him into oblivion!

The first punisher, Prince Clark, laughed heartily.

Everyone joined in laughter.

From mighty cultivators of the Great Emperor Yellow Ball to Clark’s Princess, the laughter carried a sense of unprecedented dominance, as if "Prince Gao Likelar" had orchestrated a maneuver none could counter. The Tang Dynasty New Painting today would forever remain their mark, as they advanced toward Hua’er.

"Excellent! This is the ultimate weapon! A blinding luminance enveloped by divine grace."

"Ha-ha, I’ll kill all the lone ones!"

Even with all the ranked individuals across Europe gathered together, showcasing their might, mockery flashed in their eyes. Lu Huaxia sat quietly, orchestrating today’s strategy, ensuring an unflinching gaze linger toward the Chinese roadside paths.

What were they chasing in the name of righteous faith?

It was cultivation of strength and acquisition of resources!

With Yang Chuan slain, how could they not seize this opportunity?

But as declarations of triumphant advance echoed, "Chinese air turbines" stirred unease, facing the colossal energy egg ahead. "Heavens?" Some questioned in trepidation, confrontation drawing near as winds whispered around them.

"Wind?" Someone muttered. "What do you mean, wind?"

A peculiar Knight nearby sneered. "Anything romantic is now suppressed by our full assault—what wind are you talking about!"

The violent clash demanded no compromise and aimed to crush them severely.

Only, a tilt of the gaze turned uncertain! "I miscalculated. That...it’s moving! It’s drawing closer to us!"

"Right afterward, GDP surged."

"There’s no way this is happening!"

Like the nervous Knight exclaimed, the energy egg seemed to synchronize the spaces it touched, forcing enemies to rally yet proving equally fatal to them.

Standing within the vehicle toward the energy egg’s vicinity, unease bubbled from those nearby. An intensified panic coursed throughout.

Clark Clone King, the Lords of Boden and Alpha Royal Family, the Flame King, everyone—leaders of all factions—examined the pulsating energy egg. They fell utterly speechless as its surges steadied.

"Prince Clark, do we wait or act first?" Flame Monarch offered, observing the slow-moving energy egg. Everyone’s gaze sank.

The leading unorthodox cultivator sensed the monstrous essence embedded within its gigantic waves of energy.

Initially, none of them cared about these developments, waiting solely for the energy to settle.

But now, this move hinted at one outcome: a catastrophic explosion that might annihilate them all.

Mr. Clark nodded at the Flame King’s words.

"Alright, Yang Tian is dead. Don’t rush the matter of Warsaw; let’s visit the Light God."

The Alpha Royal Family and Lord Boden concurred and gathered their forces.

Yet, as the group moved toward Alin Pisi’s peak, a sudden, immense vitality surged forth.

"Is your stuff unnecessary?"

Unnecessary.

Hearing the words, Prince Clark and the others were visibly stunned, turning instinctively.

The growing giant egg ascended toward the heavens gradually, reaching its zenith as their eyes froze.

Inside the colossal energy egg’s shadow, a faint outline of black clothing, black hair, and a sharp, cold demeanor emerged.

Was it not Yang Qian?

Yang Chuan seemed utterly nonchalant, like a stroll in a courtyard, calmly rising to the skies with one hand outstretched—a hand dwarfed by the gigantic energy egg hovering around him. His icy gaze pierced through the gathered assembly.

"Is this...?"

The sight dumbfounded Prince Clark, Lord Boden, Alpha Royal Family, Flame King, and everyone present.

The scene wholly shattered their assumptions, leaving all in stunned disbelief.