645 The Nightmare of the Six Royal Clans

By a stroke of luck, the three sects found a reason to rally together. After years of standoff, both sides were balanced in Pingwang. The emergence of the wicked Sacred Heart Sect gave the humans an edge. However, for the human race to truly triumph remained a daunting task.

“Without effort, failure is certain,” Zhang Youji mused, gazing at the sky, deep in thought. He seemed oblivious to the approaching demons.

The electric arcs that usually surrounded him vanished, and the menacing aura he emitted dissipated. For a moment, he looked like an ordinary man, lost in fatigue.

Boom! Boom!

Suddenly, the demons surged, drowning Zhang Youji in their essence. From a distance, Uncle Master Fei and the True Path Sect martial artists roared in anguish. They may not have fully aligned with Zhang Youji’s methods, but he was their Dao Child, the embodiment of their hope, especially since he had risked so much today.

The grand elder of the white tiger clan, having faced the destructive might of the True Path Sect’s eight-directional lightning pillar multiple times, couldn’t help but smirk. He knew that using such a powerful skill drained the user immensely, often requiring other True Path Sect members to shield the user and usher them to safety. The fact that the elder had chosen not to act after Zhang Youji’s second attack was out of respect.

But then, something unexpected occurred.

The elder’s triumphant expression faded as a spark of electricity caught his eye. Before he could react, Zhang Youji materialized right before him. Electricity crackled from Zhang Youji’s eyes, illuminating the surroundings with streaks of lightning. As the elder instinctively moved back, Zhang Youji, with intense resolve, struck.

Boom!

A deafening clash echoed. Both were hurled away from the impact — Zhang Youji with blood trickling down his face, and the elder clutching a bleeding wound on his chest, realizing how close he’d come to a fatal blow.

A voice broke the tension. “Thank you for saving me, Brother Huang.” Hovering above the injured elder, a stern old man cloaked in flames spoke. It was the grand elder of the phoenix clan.

“It’s no trouble,” he replied tersely.

His agenda was clear. After his clan members had been severely injured in the secret realm, he sought vengeance against the responsible parties: Qin Huai, the Sacred Heart Sect, and the entire human race.

The white tiger grand elder stared at Zhang Youji. “You’re quite a force among your generation.”

Zhang Youji, struggling to rise, retorted with blood dripping from his mouth, “Two grand elders together? You’ve both lived for almost two thousand years, and you’re teaming up against someone in his thirties?”

Challenging them, he said, “What about a one-on-one fight? After all, tales of two grand elders ambushing a wounded youth wouldn’t do wonders for your reputation.”

The elder coolly replied, “You’ve earned our combined efforts. It’s possible you’re the greatest prodigy alive.”

The phoenix clan elder added, “Having both of us to escort you to the afterlife should be an honor.”

Zhang Youji replied with a smirk, “I see no shame in it.”

The two elders exchanged glances, unable to fathom Zhang Youji’s next move.

Zhang Youji grinned, looking skyward. “Now, it’s your time to shine.”

Boom!

As he spoke, the sky cracked open, talismans burned to ash, and daylight bathed the land. But the six Royal Families recoiled in horror. Above them hovered the Spear of Annihilation.

Just like his duel with the white-robed king, Zhang Youji had cleverly distracted his enemies to prepare for Qin Huai’s lethal strike.

The earth shuddered under the spear’s might. Mountains crumbled, demons were obliterated, and tormented spirits tore them from within. Onlookers fled, fearing Qin Huai’s wrath.

Zhang Youji mused from above, observing the chaos below. Rumors about Qin Huai painted him as some ancient beast. Discovering he wielded such power would surely unhinge the royal clans.

The white tiger elder, gravely wounded, roared, “Beast King! Your turn!” His body was a mangled mess, his heart exposed, and he seemed moments away from death.

The aftermath of the spear’s assault had left hundreds of demons dead. Clan experts watched in distress. This was the second instance of such loss, surpassing the casualties from their conflict in the secret realm.

As the voice of the white tiger grand elder dimmed, a massive figure appeared overhead: the Beast King.

He looked sternly at the transformed ‘white-robed king’. “Your actions defy the rules,” he warned.

Qin Huai returned the cold stare. Suddenly, he vanished, only to reappear with white eyes and snow-white hair. His power erupted, echoing with the force of ten dragons.

The Beast King retaliated, and a fierce mid-air duel ensued. The intensity of their brawl stripped layers of their flesh, revealing stark white bones.

The Beast King was astounded by Qin Huai’s might. “This isn’t the power of the white-robed king,” he realized.

Around the perimeter of the city, blood beasts arose, cornering both the three sects and six clans.

“A clever strategy,” mused the Beast King, feeling momentarily secure. “I’ll manage the rest,” he announced to his army, while never shifting his gaze from Qin Huai. The tension in the air was palpable.

However, the serenity was short-lived. Outraged accusations from the white tiger grand elder erupted from below. “Beast King, you traitor! You’ve betrayed our six royal clans!”

The Beast King was taken aback as he noticed the blood beasts, not attacking the warriors of the three sects but preying on the demons of the six royal clans. He scanned the area and realized none of his allies were in control.

Facing the enigmatic Qin Huai, he stammered, “Who are you?”

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