Chapter 318: Beheading the Blood Slaughter Marquis! I am Qin Feng! I am the Genius of the Human Race

Chapter 318: Slaying the Blood-Butcher Marquis! I am Qin Feng! I am the Human Prodigy Qin Feng! Khorne curses the stubborn stone!

Upon a shattered continent spanning no more than ten thousand miles, two figures stood in distant confrontation.

Their auras, no longer at their initial peaks, were now far more refined, far more... terrifying!

It was a pure, extreme killing intent, honed through four thousand years of uninterrupted life-and-death struggle!

At this moment, Qin Feng’s appearance was wretched to the extreme.

His platinum-gold Limit Body was covered in dense, bone-deep saber gashes.

These wounds crisscrossed his frame, leaving scarcely an inch of intact skin.

Within the most gruesome gashes, wisps of blood-colored Dao seals, like maggots clinging to bone, writhed and eroded, stubbornly preventing the Limit Body from self-repairing.

It was the Blood-Butcher Marquis, having branded his own Dao seals into Qin Feng’s flesh, grinding away his vitality with every passing second.

Yet, despite the grievous wounds, Qin Feng’s eyes were brighter and deeper than they had been four millennia ago.

Those pitch-black pupils were like twin black holes consuming all things, enough to drown the soul of anyone who dared to gaze into them.

Opposite him, the Blood-Butcher Marquis fared no better.

Half of his body had been pulverized by Qin Feng’s fist during a perilous counterattack, reduced to a mist of blood.

Exposed white bone and writhing viscera hung in the air, a sight of grotesque horror.

But his aura remained heart-stoppingly potent.

In his single eye burned a frantic flame—an endless obsession that cast aside life and death, existing only to slaughter the enemy before him!

Four thousand years of combat had squeezed their potential and trump cards to the absolute limit.

This was a contest of will and endurance; whoever fell first would be the loser!

"Haa... haa..."

The Blood-Butcher Marquis wheezed like a broken bellows, his single eye locked onto Qin Feng, flashing with madness and resolve.

He knew he could not drag this out any longer.

If he continued to exhaust himself like this, he would surely be the first to perish!

His opponent’s monstrous physique and inexhaustible spiritual energy were the nightmares of all enemies!

He had to... fight to the death!

"Little beast..."

The Marquis’s voice was hoarse and low, yet filled with bone-deep venom.

"I must admit, you are the most monstrous genius I have ever seen... If you were in the outside world, given time, you would surely become the nightmare of all my people..."

"It is a pity... you have no future!"

"To have forced me to this point, you may well be proud!"

"Today, let this final blade of mine... serve as your funeral!"

As the words fell, the Blood-Butcher Marquis’s shattered body began to burn like a candle!

His withered flesh, broken bones, and even his burning Marquis Dao seal transformed into the purest fuel, surging madly into the blood-colored saber in his hand!

Voom, voom, voom, voom, voom—!

The blood-colored saber let out an unprecedented, mournful wail; cracks spread across the blade as if it could no longer bear this world-destroying power, ready to shatter at any moment!

An indescribable, terrifying aura, enough to make the entire Blood-Colored Arena tremble, radiated from the blade!

"This move, I can use but once in my life..."

"To die under this blade is your honor!"

The face of the Blood-Butcher Marquis, consumed by the flames of his soul, appeared twisted and hideous.

He raised the saber high, pouring his final, peak strength into it, and swung it toward Qin Feng—slowly, yet with absolute, unwavering certainty!

"Heaven Burial!!!"

The blade descended!

There was no earth-shattering roar, no brilliant, dazzling light.

There was only a line, black as ink.

This line was so slender, so dark, yet the moment it appeared, all light, all sound, and all laws within the Blood-Colored Arena seemed to be swallowed whole!

This world was wailing!

This space was collapsing!

It was as if the apocalypse of the entire Blood-Colored Arena had arrived with this single strike!

The blow locked onto Qin Feng’s body, soul, and true spirit, leaving him nowhere to hide, nowhere to retreat!

It was a kill-or-be-killed strike, wagering everything a mid-level Marquis possessed!

Facing this unstoppable blade of annihilation, Qin Feng’s face held no fear or despair.

On the contrary.

At the corners of his mouth, slowly, ever so slowly, a smile of extreme peculiarity curled upward.

In that smile lay relief, anticipation, madness, and even... a trace of deeply hidden pity.

"Ha..."

A soft chuckle escaped his lips.

Then, the laughter grew louder and more resonant, finally erupting into unbridled, manic laughter that echoed throughout the shattered void!

"Haha... hahahahaha!"

"Blood-Butcher Marquis, oh Blood-Butcher Marquis... thank you!"

"Thank you for these four thousand years... of tirelessly 'feeding' me your techniques!!!"

This sudden turn of events left the dying Blood-Butcher Marquis with a flicker of shock and confusion in his single eye.

Had this brat gone mad?

Facing death, he could still laugh?!

Yet, he would never understand that in the split second before the black blade-line of "Heaven Burial" reached him, a cataclysmic change had occurred within the vast, cosmic expanse of Qin Feng’s sea of consciousness!

The ten thousand intelligent souls that had operated at high speed for four thousand years seemed to receive their final command, all their light converging into a single point!

They had taken the massive amount of data stolen, analyzed, and deduced from the Blood-Butcher Marquis regarding the "Nine Killings Sutra" and performed the final integration and synthesis!

Fragmented puzzle pieces were perfectly joined together.

Complex formulas were solved, yielding the final answer.

Voom—!!!

In an instant, a complete, profound, and in some aspects even more optimized and compatible augmentation technique model, tailored to Qin Feng himself, was successfully constructed!

It is done!

At this very moment!

"Now!"

A roar erupted within Qin Feng's soul!

His mouth, stretched wide in a manic grin, inhaled with sudden, violent force!

The Primordial Furnace Array within his body, sensing its master's will, unleashed a terrifying power capable of devouring the very heavens!

A thunderous tremor shook the void!

An infinite force of consumption descended upon his consciousness, swallowing the ten thousand intelligent souls that had just fulfilled their purpose, along with their heaven-defying deductions, in a single gulp!

Devour! Refine! Absorb!

A soul-energy so vast it defied imagination, pure to the point of transcendence, poured into Qin Feng’s pitch-black origin soul like a celestial river flowing in reverse!

In an instant, his already boundless ocean of soul-power surged with violent, towering waves! The sheer "quantity" of his soul, nourished by this massive influx, swelled at a rate visible to the naked eye!

Exactly ten percent! Not a fraction more, not a fraction less!

This expansion brought a sublimation of perception and a leap in cognitive capacity!

The entire world appeared transformed before his eyes!

Simultaneously, the complete scripture known as the Nine-Kill Sutra was no longer mere data or models; it was branded deep into the bedrock of his consciousness!

It felt as though this secret art had been his birthright all along!

The theft of the Dao was complete!

At this moment, the pitch-black "Heaven-Burial" blade-line was less than three inches from his brow.

...

Before the blade even arrived, the terrifying murderous intent, capable of silencing all existence, caused the void around Qin Feng to collapse, crumbling into primordial chaos.

The laws of space and time, before this ultimate edge, were as fragile as thin paper, easily torn and pulverized.

A twisted, hideous ecstasy bloomed upon the face of the Blood-Slaughter Marquis.

He could already see Qin Feng’s Limit-Body split in two, his soul shredded into nothingness by the intent of his blade.

Four thousand years of bloody warfare, four thousand years of suppression and attrition, would finally reach a perfect conclusion! He, the Blood-Slaughter Marquis, would become the legend who personally strangled a pioneer of the human "Path of God"!

Yet, in this split second, this moment of life and death.

Facing a lethal strike that would drive any Marquis-level powerhouse to despair, Qin Feng showed no fear; instead, the corners of his mouth curled into a cold, eerie arc.

His eyes, black as eternal night, were calm as a stagnant well, deep enough to swallow all light.

He watched the encroaching line of death with the serenity of one admiring a work of art about to shatter.

"Hum—!"

A blood-red aura, identical in origin to that of the Blood-Slaughter Marquis but far purer, more domineering, and more primal, erupted from within Qin Feng!

Mysterious, savage blood-red battle patterns emerged from beneath his skin like living divine chains, rapidly spreading across his entire body.

Each pattern seemed to contain a supreme will capable of slaughtering the heavens!

"Nine-Kill Sutra..."

Qin Feng uttered the four words that made the Blood-Slaughter Marquis’s heart tremble with dread. His voice was soft, yet it carried the unquestionable majesty and power of an oracle descending from the nine heavens, "...First Layer!"

BOOM!!!!

A world-shaking roar erupted, like the first thunderous sound at the birth of the universe!

The moment he spoke the final word, Qin Feng’s aura surged, doubling without warning!

If he had been an immovable, unfathomable ancient mountain before, he was now a dormant volcano, fully awakened and ready to spew forth world-ending fury!

He used no weapons, nor did he employ any intricate techniques.

Facing the "Heaven-Burial" blade-line, he simply raised his right hand, fingers pressed together like a primal celestial blade, and swept it forward.

There was no earth-shattering collision of laws, no brilliant explosion of divine light.

Qin Feng’s palm simply, nonchalantly, and with absolute precision, pressed against the edge of the pitch-black blade-line.

"Crack..."

A sound as crisp as shattering glass echoed across the silent, blood-stained continent.

The "Heaven-Burial" blade-line, which had condensed all of the Blood-Slaughter Marquis’s essence and spirit and was capable of crippling or slaying his peers, froze the instant it touched Qin Feng’s palm.

Immediately after, fine cracks spread like a spiderweb from the point of contact.

The next moment.

"Bang!"

The blade-line shattered into pieces!

It transformed into pure, drifting motes of light, dissipating into the void.

The ecstasy and malice on the face of the Blood-Slaughter Marquis froze solid.

He stood as if struck by a bolt of chaotic lightning from the depths of the underworld, his mind a blank slate, his thoughts stalled in mid-air.

Time seemed to stretch into infinity.

What had he just seen?

He had seen blood-red battle patterns identical to his own emerge upon Qin Feng’s body!

He felt the familiar, bone-deep resonance of power doubling in an instant!

Was that not the fundamental scripture he had relied upon to make his name, the very art with which he had traversed the cosmic battlefield for tens of millions of years without a single defeat—the Nine-Kill Sutra?!

"No..."

The Blood-Slaughter Marquis’s lips trembled, emitting a delirious, discordant sound.

"No... this... this is impossible!!!"

A shrill, broken roar finally erupted from the depths of his throat, filled with infinite shock, absurdity, and a bone-chilling emotion known as fear.

"The Nine-Kill Sutra is a secret art created by His Majesty, the Nine-Kill Emperor of my Demon Race!

In the entire universe, no one knows it except the lineage of the Nine-Kill Emperor! You... a human! How could you possibly know it?!"

The Blood-Slaughter Marquis was utterly bewildered; his Dao heart suffered an unprecedented shock, beginning to fracture.

The scene before him completely exceeded his cognitive limits, overturning the martial worldview he had built over tens of millions of years.

A human, standing before him, had unleashed the ultimate secret art of a Demon Emperor?

This was even more absurd and bizarre than seeing a Starry Sky Behemoth practicing embroidery!

However, Qin Feng had no intention of offering him an explanation.

His only response was a pair of eyes growing colder and more indifferent, and a voice, flat yet chilling enough to plunge the Marquis into an icy abyss.

"Your 'sparring' was quite useful."

The moment the words fell, Qin Feng moved.

He took a single step, the blood-stained earth beneath his feet collapsing with a roar, as he transformed into a streak of platinum light, charging headlong at the Blood-Slaughter Marquis.

This time, he was no longer the "punching bag" forced into passive defense.

"Boom!"

A punch was thrown—simple and direct, yet containing a doubled force so terrifying it could dim the very stars.

Where his fist passed, the void twisted and buckled, carving out a visible rift in space.

The Blood-Slaughter Marquis, struck with horror, could only raise his blade in a frantic parry.

"Clang—!"

The sound of metal striking metal rang out like a billion divine bells tolling at once, shaking the entire blood-red arena to its foundations.

The Marquis felt an irresistible, tsunami-like force surge from the blade; he felt as if he had been struck head-on by a star traveling at light speed. His arms shattered with a sickening crunch, and his blood-red saber let out a mournful wail, nearly slipping from his grasp.

His body was sent flying uncontrollably, plowing a ten-thousand-foot-deep trench into the iron-hard earth, only coming to a halt after smashing through a towering mountain range in the distance.

"Pfft!"

A mouthful of golden blood, flecked with fragments of Dao seals, sprayed from the Marquis’s lips. The look he cast at Qin Feng had shifted from shock to absolute terror.

A mere first-level amplification of the Nine-Kill Sutra, combined with that monstrous "Limitless Body," had unleashed power that firmly suppressed him!

Yet, this was only the beginning.

The Marquis’s horror soon evolved into a soul-deep dread, ultimately curdling into endless despair.

He realized that Qin Feng’s speed in mastering the Nine-Kill Sutra had transcended the bounds of "reason," reaching a level that could only be called "taboo."

The battle raged on.

But the tide of offense and defense had completely reversed.

The first millennium passed.

After another earth-shattering collision, the blood-red battle runes on Qin Feng’s body shifted, growing more intricate and profound, as an aura far more terrifying than before erupted!

"Nine-Kill Sutra, third level!"

Qin Feng’s cold voice rang in the Marquis’s ears like a funeral knell.

Triple combat power amplification!

"No!!!"

The Blood-Slaughter Marquis let out a roar of defiance, pushing his own Nine-Kill Sutra to the limit in a desperate attempt to contend with Qin Feng.

But it was all in vain.

Every punch and kick from Qin Feng became expansive and bold, brimming with the absolute power to crush all things.

No matter how treacherous or vicious the Marquis’s blade techniques were, they appeared pale and feeble before the unreasonable, terrifying force of Qin Feng.

He was utterly suppressed; every collision added injury to injury, his very Dao foundation trembling violently.

He had fallen from a high-and-mighty predator to a prey struggling merely to survive.

He felt like a master craftsman teaching his life’s work to an apprentice, only to find that the apprentice was a monster with a learning capacity so heaven-defying it was obscene.

This monster was using the Marquis’s own proudest skills to push him toward the abyss of death, in a manner that felt like the ultimate humiliation.

The third millennium passed.

When the battle entered its sixth millennium:

"Boom!"

Qin Feng’s aura climbed once more, reaching a degree that made the Marquis choke for air.

The blood-red runes on his skin had become like ancient totems branded into divine metal, saturated with the essence of destruction and slaughter.

"Nine-Kill Sutra, sixth level!"

Six-fold combat power amplification!

Now, every gesture Qin Feng made seemed to command the power of the entire blood-red arena.

A simple straight punch could trigger the collapse of space itself.

The Blood-Slaughter Marquis had lost all ability to resist. He was batted about like a ball, his physical form collapsing and reforming under the relentless barrage, his soul-fire growing dimmer in the endless torment.

Only numbness and fear remained in his heart.

He could not fathom it; he could not understand.

Why?

How could this be?!

How did this monster manage it?! Finally, when the total duration of the battle reached exactly ten thousand years.

In the center of this blood-red continent, now shattered and riddled with spatial rifts and chaotic turbulence, Qin Feng slowly ceased his pursuit.

He hovered silently in the void, closing his eyes.

The Blood-Slaughter Marquis seized the chance to flee frantically, putting a vast distance between himself and Qin Feng.

He was bathed in blood, his aura withered to the extreme, his hand clutching the saber trembling uncontrollably.

He stared at Qin Feng in terror, wondering what even more horrific technique this demon was brewing.

The next moment, Qin Feng’s eyes snapped open!

Two beams of platinum light, as solid as reality, pierced the void and illuminated the dim world!

"Roar—!"

A long howl erupted from the depths of Qin Feng’s soul—a sound filled with the catharsis and arrogance of one who had finally unleashed ten thousand years of suppressed power!

The blood-red battle runes on his body climbed to their zenith, appearing as if they were burning, transforming into a suit of blood-red divine armor woven from the pure laws of slaughter, encasing him perfectly.

A terrifying aura, flawless and world-dominating, swept across the entire arena like a cosmic storm!

"Nine-Kill Sutra... ninth level!!!"

The Blood-Slaughter Marquis fell into total despair.

The light vanished from his eyes, leaving them a hollow, deathly gray.

It was as if his very essence had been drained; he could barely stand, and his blood-red saber hung limply from his hand.

Thirty million years...

He remembered clearly that it had taken him over thirty million long years to cultivate this secret art of the Demon Emperor to the ninth-level perfection!

Thirty million years of bitter toil, thirty million years of grinding effort, had forged him into what he was today—a formidable mid-level Marquis among his peers!

And this monster before him...

This Domain Lord-level junior, whom he had viewed as prey and hunted for a full thousand years...

Had used him as a living textbook, as a whetstone to sharpen himself, all within this short ten thousand years!

He had forced his way from nothing, from zero, to reach the same state of Great Perfection as the Marquis himself!

Ten thousand years, compared to thirty million!

What a preposterous, what a despairing disparity!

What a terrifying, what a heaven-defying aptitude and capacity for calculation!

In this moment, the Blood-Slaughter Marquis finally understood.

The youth before him could no longer be described by the word "genius."

He was a monstrosity!

A taboo!

A monster that defied all reason and rules, one that had no place existing in this universe!

No wonder he could emerge from the Path of God!

"The game... is over."

Qin Feng’s voice, cold and devoid of the slightest emotion, rang out like a final judgment, tolling the death knell for the Blood-Slaughter Marquis.

Under the terrifying ninefold amplification of his combat power, the pure strength unleashed by his [Limit Body] had reached a level so horrific that even he felt a tremor of awe.

He slowly raised his right hand, and a white-gold spear, condensed from his own essence, manifested in his palm.

The tip of the spear locked firmly onto the figure in the distance, a figure that had already lost all will to fight.

There were no earth-shattering omens, no cataclysmic aura.

Qin Feng simply pushed the spear forward, ever so gently.

[Inch-Light]!

Hum!

A sliver of white-gold light, infinitely thin yet blindingly brilliant, flashed from the spearhead and vanished.

This strike fused the terrifying amplification of the nine levels of the "Nine-Kill Scripture."

This strike was the ultimate manifestation of Qin Feng’s comprehension of pure "force" since he stepped onto the "Path of the Limit."

This strike was a ray of "limit" capable of piercing the Dao Seal and annihilating the true spirit!

It was too fast!

Fast enough to transcend the passage of time, fast enough to ignore the distance of space!

The Blood-Slaughter Marquis could not even process a thought before the white-gold light, the harbinger of death, appeared before his brow.

He had only enough time to see Qin Feng’s cold, indifferent eyes.

And then...

"Puff."

A sound so faint it was nearly imperceptible.

The light pierced through his brow.

There was no violent explosion, no agonizing roar.

That indescribable, condensed, and terrifying power shattered the soul within his sea of consciousness in an instant, then tore through his physical form.

Immediately following, centered on that tiny point at his brow, the entire body of the Blood-Slaughter Marquis—along with his armor and the blade in his hand—began to disintegrate and annihilate in silence, turning into the most trivial particles in the universe, returning utterly to nothingness.

His expression, filled with reluctance, shock, absurdity, and despair, was frozen forever in this final moment.

The ten-thousand-year blood feud had finally reached its curtain call.

...

With the total annihilation of the Blood-Slaughter Marquis, the entire blood-stained arena fell into an eternal, deathly silence.

There was no longer the deafening roar, no longer the hysterical shrieking.

Only the shattered earth and the jagged spatial rifts in the sky remained, silently testifying to the brutality of the battle that had just transpired.

Qin Feng stood quietly in the center of the broken land, slowly closing his eyes, feeling the unprecedented power surging within him like a roaring sea of stars.

The ten-thousand-year life-and-death struggle had not only unexpectedly granted him a top-tier amplification technique, allowing his raw strength to achieve another leap.

More importantly, his combat instincts and his Daoist resolve had been tempered in the fires of this relentless blood feud.

He could feel that the battle intent in his heart had become purer than ever before.

Just then.

A grand, majestic will, brimming with the scent of iron, blood, and glory, boomed deep within his soul, as if crossing infinite dimensions and ignoring the barriers of space and time.

"A magnificent battle. A perfect feast."

The voice seemed forged from the shouts and screams of a billion wars, every syllable carrying a supreme majesty that made gods and demons tremble.

Qin Feng’s pupils suddenly contracted into dangerous pinpricks.

"Qin Feng."

The grand voice continued, carrying an unquestionable tone, as if stating an absolute fact.

"Do you crave power?"

"Do you crave even more exhilarating battles?"

"Do you crave to trample all your enemies beneath your feet, listening to their wails and cries of sorrow?"

"Follow me, submit to me, and offer me the loyalty of your heart, filled with glory and the desire for slaughter."

"I, the Blood God who wields war and glory, shall crown you myself, granting you the qualification to ascend the throne of gods, and making you the true God of War!"

Boom—!

Before the words had even faded, the scene before Qin Feng shifted cataclysmically.

Qin Feng found himself no longer standing on the shattered blood-stained continent.

He was seated upon a supreme throne that towered into the clouds, built from the skulls of a billion gods and demons!

Beneath that throne lay a boundless, surging ocean of blood, where countless terrifying demons and champion warriors—beings powerful enough to make even those who had sealed the Emperor rank tremble—knelt in dense masses, offering him their most fanatical worship, shouting his name like a tidal wave!

In his hand, he gripped a hideous giant axe that seemed capable of cleaving the entire universe asunder.

Upon his body, he wore a terrifying divine armor forged from the wailing souls of countless powerful enemies, radiating an aura of omen and destruction.

A boundless, inexhaustible sense of power flooded Qin Feng’s "body" and soul.

He felt as if he had become the sole master of this universe; with a single thought, he could collapse the sea of stars, turn all things to ash, and destroy everything before him!

Khorne’s seductive whispers, like the most tender and attentive lover, echoed incessantly in his ears and deep within his soul:

"Look, this is your future. You were born to be a king, the sole master of war."

"You are a follower of the Blood God, and your glory is my glory. You crave battle, and I shall provide you with an eternal, unending battlefield."

"Abandon your frail race; they will only be your shackles."

"Abandon those boring chains called 'morality' and 'emotion'."

Under my command, you shall attain true freedom, and... eternal martial might!"

Within this phantasm created by the will of Khorne, Qin Feng felt the passage of time as a tangible reality.

One year, ten years, a century...

A millennium, ten thousand years...

He seemed to have truly become that god of war worshipped by ten thousand demons, immersed daily in endless conquest and slaughter.

His boundless legion of demons transformed one powerful living being after another into offerings for his altar.

Qin Feng reveled in the ultimate ecstasy brought by power, in the fear and despair of his enemies before death, and in the fanatical adoration of his warriors.

His consciousness began to sink, lost within this endless cycle of carnage and glory.

The name "Qin Feng" seemed to grow ever more distant, ever more blurred.

In its place rose a new, grand title representing slaughter and destruction—the God of War.

He was war itself.

But.

Just as his true self was on the verge of being completely assimilated by this overwhelming will to kill, just as he was about to be utterly lost in this glorious sea of blood, at the very last moment—

Deep within the core of his pure black soul, that spark of his true self—the "Qin Feng" that had never once flickered out—seemed to sense the ultimate crisis and erupted with unprecedented, brilliant radiance!

"NO!!!"

A cry from the deepest abyss of his soul tore through the boundless night like the first thunderclap across the heavens!

"I am Qin Feng! I am the prodigy of the human race—Qin Feng!!!"

This shout was like a boulder cast into a calm lake, stirring up a tidal wave of monumental proportions.

The entire phantasm began to tremble violently, madly!

The seemingly immovable Throne of Skulls began to fracture.

The boundless sea of blood began to churn tempestuously. The demons kneeling below wore expressions of shock and bewilderment.

"Accept your destiny, my sub-god..."

Khorne’s whisper grew more urgent, more seductive, like a demonic incantation pouring into his ears, attempting to extinguish the spark of resistance that had just ignited.

Yet Qin Feng exerted every ounce of his willpower, clinging desperately to that spark of his true self, which flickered precariously in the storm.

Over and over, deep within his soul, he roared that phrase with all his might.

"I am Qin Feng! I am the prodigy of the human race, Qin Feng!"

"I am Qin Feng!!!"

"I am Qin Feng! I am the prodigy of the human race, Qin Feng!!!"

The flow of time within the illusion became terrifyingly accelerated at this moment.

One hundred thousand years...

Five hundred thousand years...

One million years...

Qin Feng felt as though he had endured over a hundred thousand years of long, silent, yet unimaginably perilous psychological tug-of-war.

His will was like stubborn iron, repeatedly hammered, scorched, torn, and laboriously reforged by the will of Khorne.

Each tearing brought pain that pierced to the very marrow of his soul.

Each reforging made his will that much more resilient.

That phrase, "I am Qin Feng! I am the prodigy of the human race, Qin Feng!", was no longer a simple act of self-recognition.

It had become his Dao, his anchor, the sole rock upon which he could survive in the boundless ocean of chaos and slaughter.

No matter how Khorne tempted, threatened, or twisted his perceptions, he clung to this rock, never wavering in the slightest.

Qin Feng repeated the phrase infinitely.

Under this hundred-thousand-year trial of extreme refinement, his will became more indestructible than the hardest divine metal in the universe!

...

"I am Qin Feng! I am the prodigy of the human race, Qin Feng!"

The voice was not loud, yet it contained an absolute will that brooked no doubt and no distortion!

"I am Qin Feng! I am the prodigy of the human race, Qin Feng!"

BOOM!

The invincible phantasm shattered at the sound.

Qin Feng’s will was forcibly pulled back from the brink of oblivion once more.

Such cycles repeated, over and over.

Khorne’s methods were endless.

Coercion, temptation, intimidation, deception...

As a Chaos God, an ancient entity wielding the authority of war and slaughter, Khorne’s mental techniques were divine, capable of playing with the souls of most beings in the universe like toys.

But he had encountered Qin Feng.

Or rather, he had encountered a Dao-heart that had been tempered into something flawless and indestructible through countless life-and-death struggles and choices.

That phrase, "I am Qin Feng! I am the prodigy of the human race, Qin Feng!", after a hundred thousand years of continuous, extreme resistance against a god’s will, was no longer just a sentence.

No matter how Khorne’s will tempted, threatened, or twisted his perceptions and inverted his cognition, he held fast to this rock, this coordinate, never wavering in the slightest.

Finally, after who knows how much longer, the seductive, devilish whispering ceased.

In its place came a roar filled with infinite rage and utter bewilderment!

This roar was no longer a seductive lure, but a psychic shockwave containing the primal fury of a Chaos God; the sound itself made Qin Feng’s entire soul tremble violently, as if it would disintegrate the next second!

"A foul, stubborn stone!!!"

The voice was filled with exasperation.

It was as if a master sculptor had spent countless efforts trying to carve a peerless piece of jade, only to find that he was facing a boulder upon which no method could leave a single mark.

"Damn it!

Why are these monsters with such maddeningly firm wills always under the command of that yellow-skinned brat!!"

The information revealed in this roar would have horrified any Emperor-level powerhouse in the outside world.

To be called a "yellow-skinned brat" by a Chaos God—throughout the entire history of the human race, only that supreme existence who founded the eternal foundation of humanity could be meant: the Emperor!

Clearly, this was not the first time Khorne had been thwarted by a human prodigy.

"Enough! Enough!"

BOOM!!!

As Khorne’s exasperated will receded like a tide, the boundless sea of blood and the throne of bones before Qin Feng shattered like a mirror struck by a massive force!

All illusions and every temptation vanished into nothingness in this singular moment.

Qin Feng’s consciousness finally returned to his physical vessel.

He remained standing upon that blood-drenched continent, now shattered into fragments and riddled with gaping wounds.

"Haa... haa... haa..."

He gasped for air, his entire body drenched in a cold, clammy sweat, as if he had just endured a battle far more harrowing than the ten thousand years of slaughter he had faced before.

Yet, his obsidian eyes burned with a brilliance, depth, and resolve far greater than at any point before he entered the arena.

Deep within those pupils, billions of stars seemed to be born and extinguished, reflecting an absolute, piercing reason forged by the passage of hundreds of thousands of years, capable of seeing through all falsehoods.

His will, his very heart of the Dao, had been tempered by the divine will itself, ascending to a new, dizzying height that felt alien even to him.

Hum!

At that instant, a sudden transformation erupted!

A streak of blood-red light, dense beyond measure, defied the constraints of space and time. Before Qin Feng could even react, it struck his brow like a searing brand of white-hot iron, searing itself directly into the core of his pitch-black soul.

Agony!

An unimaginable, searing pain forced even a man of his iron-willed fortitude to let out a muffled groan.

The next moment, a scroll of blood-colored scripture, reeking of infinite slaughter, tyranny, glory, and destruction, was etched into his soul as if it had been there since the dawn of time.

The Nine Tribulations War Canon!

Boom!

A torrent of information, vast beyond comprehension, detonated within his mind like the simultaneous collapse of ten thousand universes.

The sheer terror of this canon far eclipsed the Nine Killings Sutra he had previously stolen!

This Nine Tribulations War Canon was designed to elevate the practitioner’s fundamental life essence by ten thousand to ninety thousand times, acting directly upon both flesh and soul!

It was a perfect fit for Qin Feng’s path of the ultimate!

(End of Chapter)