A Cunning Pervert in the Cultivation World Chapter 346: Overwhelming Might.
Previously on A Cunning Pervert in the Cultivation World...
Simultaneously,
Goldie, observing the ongoing battle, extended a hand toward the Divine Brick that hovered excitedly nearby, as if intending to dispatch the artifact to crush the two adversaries.
"~??"
The Divine Brick tilted slightly, a silent query about Goldie's intentions.
With deliberate slowness, Goldie placed a hand upon its chest.
The divine wood composing Goldie's chest began to recede, unveiling a misty, chilling aura that flowed outward like a frigid exhalation.
Reaching within, Goldie gently withdrew... a flower.
It was a resplendent blue bloom, radiating a frosty mist so potent that it had already begun to freeze the interior of Goldie's chest, its frost inching its way across the creature's substantial hand.
Goldie then communicated its desire to the Divine Brick... to open its internal dimensional space for the safe storage of the bloom.
A single hum of acknowledgment emanated from the Divine Brick as it accepted the flower.
Its task fulfilled, Goldie redirected its focus back to the two combatants.
"..."
An unreadable sentiment crossed its mind.
...For reasons unknown, Goldie felt an inexplicable urge, a sense of something... something crucial that needed to be done right then and there.
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[Oi oi... seriously?]
Yan Moxuan's gaze was fixed upon the entity that now confronted him.
The vulnerable youth from moments prior had vanished.
In his stead stood an apparition resembling a more mature Li Feng, possessing greater stature, enhanced power... and an aura that was vastly more menacing.
He subtly inclined his head toward the False Cultivator at his side and whispered,
[...That sensation... doesn't it echo that of a Sovereign? Could it be that a Sovereign lineage resides here...?]
[...]
The False Cultivator likewise fixed his attention on Li Feng, his very being quivering.
Because... it had been deemed impossible for any manifestation or vestige of a Sovereign to appear in this location.
After all...
had ensured such thorough concealment that not even the scrutiny of any Sovereign could breach this sanctuary.
Suddenly—
Li Feng's imposing figure materialized behind them like a phantom.
With effortless grace, he placed a hand upon each of their shoulders, a smile gracing his lips like that of an old friend reunited after a long separation.
Yan Moxuan and the False Cultivator stiffened.
They slowly rotated their heads to confront the colossal figure that loomed over them.
At this moment, Li Feng's visage brimmed with a joyous, almost effulgent smile as he tightened his grasp upon their shoulders.
Abruptly, an immense gravitational force descended from above, as if the celestial bodies themselves were exerting their pressure.
[...!]
[...!!]
A crushing stillness radiated outwards, consuming sound, annihilating motion... even extinguishing the faintest resonance of spiritual Qi in the vicinity.
The very fabric of existence appeared to bow subserviently beneath that unseen burden.
Yan Moxuan's pupils constricted to infinitesimal points.
His knees buckled... not by volition, but by compulsion.
The ground beneath his feet splintered like brittle glass, fractal fissures propagating outwards as the dark miasma trembled violently.
[...What?]
His voice emerged as a choked gasp, crushed by the oppressive force bearing down on his chest, his bones, and his very soul.
The False Cultivator, positioned beside him, fared considerably worse.
His entire form convulsed erratically, the dark fluid comprising him rippling uncontrollably, as though it threatened to disintegrate into amorphous sludge at any second.
[...This is... suppression... from a superior entity...?]
A terrifying realization dawned upon the False Cultivator as he strained to turn his head and observe the man standing behind them.
Li Feng stood as if he were a sovereign sculpted from the primordial void, his towering physique subtly defined by ephemeral wisps of silvery starlight that drifted around him.
His very presence defied mere existence...
It dwarfed and dominated everything within its sphere.
Then, the surrounding dark waves surged with renewed ferocity, engulfing both the False Cultivator and Yan Moxuan in their tempestuous embrace.
In the subsequent moment,
some distance away, the ebony tide recoiled and reformed.
Yan Moxuan stumbled forward, his boots skidding across the pulverized earth as he precariously regained his footing.
His chest heaved erratically, each inhalation ragged and strained.
Adjacent to him, the False Cultivator reconstituted himself, though his form flickered with an unsettling instability... like an entity struggling to maintain cohesion.
Both figures snapped their heads upward simultaneously, their senses heightened, their stances fully defensive against this overwhelming presence.
Li Feng emitted a soft, low chuckle.
In this instant, he experienced the sensation of being the absolute ruler of this realm... potent, awe-inspiring, and utterly commanding.
Yet, he was acutely aware of time's unyielding passage.
His gaze then shifted, settling upon Yan Moxuan.
Since severing his head and crushing his heart had failed to achieve his demise...
Li Feng smiled, slowly unfurling his arms and bringing his hands together in a deliberate, almost reverent gesture.
Witnessing this, Yan Moxuan's tension escalated.
[What is that guy planning—]
The words remained unspoken as an peculiar sensation began to pervade him.
He suddenly perceived the surrounding space to be... constricting.
Gradually, as if ensnared within a shrinking vessel, Yan Moxuan's eyes widened in alarm as his gaze swept around him.
The very fabric of space seemed to constrict, pressing in on him like unseen barriers from every side—silent, unforgiving, akin to a lidless sarcophagus tightening its grip on its quarry.
[...What is this sensation?]
His voice emerged guttural, strained as his chest began to implode under the immense pressure.
His limbs quivered with the futile effort to push outwards, yet there was nothing tangible to grasp, no resistance to counter.
...Only an overwhelming power that disregarded his might, his very essence, relentlessly closing in.
Gradually, his physical form started to... yield and diminish.
A symphony of creaking joints echoed.
His musculature contorted unnaturally.
Veins ruptured below his epidermis, spidery crimson lines blooming like fractures across delicate ceramic.
And in the final throes of his bewildered consciousness, Yan Moxuan directed his gaze upwards—
...only to perceive himself suddenly miniaturized, adrift in the epicenter of Li Feng’s colossal, descending palm.
[Huh?]
The reality... had been irrevocably distorted.
The very dimensions of existence appeared to have contorted, rendering him nothing more than a minuscule speck, ensnared within the grasp of what felt like... a divine being.
With a chilling smirk, Li Feng’s hands finally converged, obliterating the minuscule orb containing Yan Moxuan between his palms.
The compact sphere of condensed space imploded instantaneously.
And in that singular, brutal action....
...Yan Moxuan, the formidable 11th Emissary of Divine Blood, was no more.