Immortality begin with Alchemy Grandmaster Chapter 2689 - 992: Demoness Mo Luo Battles the World (Part 3)

Right now, Luo Chen had no time to fret over possibly harming Qing Shuang by accident.

Instantly, the Nirvana Sacred Fire engulfed Luo Chen, Qing Shuang, and the golden hand alike.

This stood as Luo Chen's ultimate trump card at the moment.

The Withering and Flourishing Divine Fire had shielded him from the Netherworld Sea all along, yet it was almost utterly spent. Even after devouring the Silver Refining Roc's flesh, it merely let him withstand the Arhat Formation for a fleeting instant.

The comparatively frailer Nirvana Sacred Fire now served as his final lifeline.

Upon spotting the Nirvana Sacred Fire, Qing Shuang's stern visage betrayed a split-second flicker of discomposure.

Luo Chen failed to notice; finding it still lacking, he spat a mouthful of blood essence onto the Nirvana Sacred Fire.

The flames erupted in a ferocious blaze!

That horrifying Buddha Power swiftly ebbed away under the sacred fire's scorching assault.

Seeing this, Luo Chen couldn't suppress a rush of elation.

Yet just as the Buddha Power neared dissipation, a torrent of long-repressed, inky-black Demonic Qi burst forth explosively.

Bang!

The Demonic Qi shuddered violently, hurling Luo Chen and Qing Shuang apart in a flash, then shaping into an arrow that speared into the Moonlight Glaze Hall and straight through the chest of the white-robed monk seated cross-legged at its heart.

Outside the hall.

Shrouded in golden flames, Luo Chen crashed to the ground, skidding backward relentlessly.

Long gashes scarred the earth.

Countless figures hurtled toward him, ready to strike.

Luo Chen paid them no heed, abruptly halting as he turned his gaze to the hall.

"Did I still fail to protect him?"

In that instant, the heavens' winds and clouds churned wildly.

A corporeal Primordial Spirit plummeted from above, merging into the white-robed monk's form.

Right behind it, vast quantities of Heaven and Earth Primordial Qi poured into the white-robed monk alongside the Primordial Spirit.

Empowered from without, the moon-white-robed Master Xuan Du leisurely parted his eyelids.

He peered down at the Demonic Qi arm skewering his chest, a shadow of regret flickering across his features.

But that regret evaporated in a heartbeat.

"Enough!"

Whether the word "enough" was whispered to himself or directed at the dozen surviving Hanging Temple monks remained ambiguous.

After that single utterance, the entire Glazed Pure Land plunged into sudden silence.

Master Xuan Du rose with composure and strode from the Moonlight Glaze Hall.

His presence surged unchecked, climbing ever higher.

Filaments of Divine Consciousness darted to and fro, coalescing into Divine Perception that stripped one bare from beginning to end.

Luo Chen climbed to his feet, staring uncertainly at Master Xuan Du and the black left hand yet lodged in his chest.

"Succeeded or failed?"

Qing Shuang alighted softly at his side, standing abreast, murmuring, "It should be a success."

Success means success—why "should be"?

Qing Shuang offered no clarification, yet Master Xuan Du, before the assembled crowd, methodically extracted the black hand from his chest.

"This is Mahakala’s left hand. Fellow brothers, take a look, is this Buddha’s Left Hand or a Demon’s Left Hand?"

The Xuankong monks gaped in shock, their combat fervor and mourning quelled by the arm's dreadfully potent Demonic Qi.

Master Xuan Du wasted no more words on explanation, simply flicking his sleeve; winds whipped through the Pure Land, hustling Great Brahma Prince and his allies toward the exit.

"Fellow friends, this little monk must clean house, so I cannot accompany you any further."

In the wink of an eye, the Nascent Soul Stage Cultivators found themselves powerless to resist and were "escorted" from the Glazed Pure Land.

That gateway, ajar for days, slammed shut at once, erasing itself utterly.

Great Brahma Prince and the cultivators drifted in the void, meeting each other's eyes amid the onlookers' stares.

They had never foreseen such a conclusion.

Demoness Mo Luo dominated the Xuankong monks, crushing the Eight Court Masters.

Mahakala presented the left hand, inflicting a mortal wound on Master Xuan Du precisely as his Primordial Spirit sought entry.

But that left hand palpably seethed with inconceivably fearsome Demonic Qi?

Now with the Glazed Pure Land sealed tight, what followed?

Master Xuan Du's words before expulsion echoed in their minds.

Cleaning house!

Could it be...

As glances darted between them, the truth hung plain.

"Hanging Temple!"