Chapter 3270: The Darkhan Emperor’s Dao Skill

The Darkhan Emperor did not stop.

His arms moved faster, the rhythm of his heart aligning with the thunder above. Bolts of silver and violet lightning converged, forming a blinding sphere that expanded into a celestial storm.

SCREECH.

The Ephemerachs screamed as the light burned through their blackened flesh. Each strike now carried not just the power of lightning, but the resonance of the Dao itself. The heavens and earth had become the Emperor’s orchestra, and he was its conductor.

The Baleful Qi that shrouded the battlefield began to disintegrate.

The shadows that had loomed above were banished by radiant light, revealing the swirling black clouds that hung far above the crypt. The Emperor’s lightning infused these clouds, making them pulse with power, turning the entire sky into a storm of divine wrath.

With a final strike that cracked the ground apart, the Emperor released everything.

BOOOOOOM!

Dozens of massive bolts fell together, slamming into the last of the hollows.

Their bodies convulsed violently before bursting into a mist of ash. A hiss echoed across the battlefield as the Baleful Energy coating them was purified and dispersed. When the light finally faded, the hollows were gone, leaving only drifting black dust.

"So, you were holding back this whole time," the Patriarch said, one eyebrow arched.

The Emperor said nothing, his face tight, his breathing steady but strained. His pride would not let him answer.

CRUNCH.

The ground nearby cracked open.

The Elder Ice Drake’s massive claw descended, crushing a struggling Ephemerach into the stone. He lifted another in his jaws, his fangs sinking into its putrid body. The two writhing forms thrashed helplessly as the ancient drake inhaled deeply.

Frost swirled within his maw, blue-white and thick with Dao Traces of Ice as he too activated his Dao Embryo.

"Roaring Boreas," he uttered.

A torrent of frost erupted from his throat.

The icy storm surged forward, coating both hollows in frozen death. The very air froze solid for miles, the ground splitting apart under the sudden cold. The two Ephemerachs were encased in crystal ice before being torn apart by the cutting winds contained within the frost breath.

The storm subsided, leaving nothing behind but fragments of shattered ice that gleamed faintly in the fading lightning.

The Elder Ice Drake rumbled in satisfaction. "That makes two."

Lin Mu stepped forward, his gaze shifting to the final threat. Across the battlefield, the Ephemera Sect Ancestor still stood amidst thousands of chanting followers.

The ground trembled as Lin Mu’s aura flared again. The once-living sect members were being drained before his eyes, hundreds already reduced to dry husks. Their blood and vitality surged upward in crimson streams that fed into a colossal ritual array.

"You," the Ancestor hissed, his distorted face contorted with rage and disbelief. "Do you know what you have done?!"

Lin Mu said nothing, his eyes steady.

The Ancestor’s voice cracked with fury. "Thousands of years of sacrifice, millions of souls, all gone! All of it wasted because of you!"

The air thickened with despair and wrath.

He could feel his connection to the fallen Ephemerachs severing, the millenniums of accumulated energy unraveling like torn silk. He knew how many resources, how much life, had been consumed to birth those monsters.

The Ephemera Sect had devoured the Silent Lotus world itself for power.

Tens of thousands of cultivators had been sacrificed just in the last year. Every beast that once guarded the Marshes of the Silent Skies had been slaughtered and consumed. All of it for this moment... this desperate, final bid for dominance.

And now, as the last of the hollows turned to dust, it all crumbled into nothing.

The Ancestor’s hands trembled. His rage twisted his aura until it howled.

Lin Mu looked at him with quiet determination. His eyes were calm, but the faint ripple of killing intent that flowed from him made even the storm hesitate for a moment.

The Abbot folded his hands together. "Amitabha. The end of greed is always suffering."

The battlefield was silent for a heartbeat. The lightning in the clouds above flickered one last time, illuminating the shattered ground where the hollows had fallen.

But everyone knew this was only the calm before the next storm.

With the Ephemerachs destroyed, the battlefield fell silent for a fleeting moment. Then, as if bound by unspoken resolve, the Transcendents and Lin Mu turned their attention to the true source of corruption... the ritual itself.

The air trembled as divine power surged.

SHING. SHING. SHING.

WHOOSH.

BOOM. BOOM. BOOM.

HISAAAAA!

The Xian Sword Sect Patriarch, Grand Elder Huo, and Lin Mu unleashed a storm of sword strikes that carved the air apart. Blades of Qi and sword intent flooded the skies, cutting through the haze of Baleful Energy that clung to the ritual like a malignant shroud.

The Abbot of the Silent Lotus Temple stood calm amid the chaos, his palms pressed together. Behind him, the True Icon of Acala manifested, towering and wreathed in divine flame. Waves of golden fire radiated outward, each pulse searing away the corruption in a cleansing inferno of wisdom.

The Darkhan Emperor raised his mallets once again, summoning lightning that poured from the heavens like rain. Each strike burned the ground white, illuminating the blood-stained ritual circle below.

High above, the Elder Ice Drake raised his majestic head and drew in a breath that froze the air itself. His exhalation was a torrent of frost that swept over the barrier, the cold so intense that it shattered the very essence of the Baleful Energy into shards of brittle shadow.

Each attack bore the might of a Transcendent, and together they hammered against the barrier encasing the ritual. Cracks began to spread across its surface, rippling with purple light.

"ARGHHH!" The Ephemera Sect Ancestor cried out, clutching his head as the recoil tore through his body.

The backlash of the barrier’s fracturing resonated through his core.

COUGH. COUGH. COUGH.

Blood splattered on the ritual dais, the crimson drops hissing as they met the baleful mists. Around him, the remaining sect members gasped in panic.

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