The enormous vertical pupil of the Dark Holy Dragon, which Long Xiaoyao had transformed into, suddenly contracted. The intense, lethal sense of crisis allowed him no room for delay.
The massive dragon maw suddenly opened wide. The dark energy of the surrounding world converged, compressed, and spun wildly into his mouth as if drawn by a black hole.
Finally, a ball of dark energy, pitch-black like ink and seemingly capable of swallowing all light and hope, formed in his throat.
It resembled a miniature black hole, emitting a heart-palpitating gravitational pull, causing the surrounding space to violently twist and collapse from its presence.
The instant Karna fiercely hurled the Flame Spear, which had compressed the power of a star—
"Aoooh!!!"
Long Xiaoyao let out a deafening dragon roar. The maximally concentrated ball of dark energy suddenly erupted, transforming into a pure black column of destruction over a hundred meters in diameter. It tore through the sky, causing everything in its path to wither and fiercely meeting the descending Spear of the Sun.
However, this was not all.
At the very instant the pure black light column burst forth, a bizarre, blood-red beam, exuding a dense, nauseatingly bloody aura, abruptly shot out from beneath the Dark Holy Dragon's colossal body.
It was venomous and sharp, appearing without warning. It even directly ripped through space, precisely intertwining and merging with Long Xiaoyao's black light column.
A black and red, destructive torrent, entangled with the ultimate darkness and vile evil, suddenly doubled in power, surging toward Karna.
"Light of the God of Death!"
Ye Xiushui's cold and solemn voice rang out.
She hovered mid-air, and the eerie and terrifying Tenth-Rank Soul Tool behind her—the Tower of the God of Death—was operating frantically. The tower glowed with a dark, strange green light, and countless distorted, agonizing, and wailing vengeful souls surged out from the tower like a tide, emitting soul-piercing shrieks.
She unhesitatingly burned the vast power of the vengeful souls she had accumulated for decades, channeling and condensing it into this blood-red beam, representing death and termination. Following closely behind Long Xiaoyao's attack, she vowed to drag the Son of the Sun into the abyss of death.
The pitch-black dragon breath and the crimson death light, two attacks representing the peak power of this world, merged. In their wake, space shattered piece by piece like fragile glass, revealing the turbulent void of chaos behind.
And the Spear of the Sun, like a meteor falling on the day of judgment, plunged downward with the absolute momentum to incinerate all things.
"BOOM—!!!!!!!!!!!"
The moment the three finally collided—
Time seemed to stand still.
Immediately following was the endless light and heat that consumed everything. The field of vision was completely covered by pure white and scorching gold. The entire imperial palace area, and even further distant places, were instantly engulfed by this ultimate radiance.
There was no expected deafening explosion; instead, a strange, suffocating dead silence descended—all sounds were completely swallowed and annihilated by the supremely violent energy at the core of the collision.
Then—
A terrifying shockwave, strong enough to tear the earth, awoke like a sleeping world-destroying behemoth, spreading and sweeping wildly in a perfect ring from the collision point.
Rock, steel, Soul Tool metal, surviving buildings... all tangible matter in the world lost its meaning before this energy tide, melting, decomposing, and finally vaporizing into nothing.
Space was completely ripped open by black, hideous cracks, and matter was reduced to its most primitive particles in the energy storm.
The entire imperial palace area seemed to be utterly wiped from the face of the earth, replaced by a raging, newborn sun rising from the ground.
Even the clouds in the high heavens were instantly ignited by this alarming heat, turning into a boundless, blazing sea of fire, reflecting the sky of the entire Mingdu as if the apocalypse had arrived.
Today, Mingdu was destined to be remembered in disaster and destruction.
From the twilight-colored sword-pillar that pierced the heavens, to Celenova's sky-ripping pulse ray, and now the all-out clash between Karna and the two continent-peak Limit Douluo... every impact was a terrifying force capable of completely erasing the entire magnificent capital city from the map.
It was foreseeable that when this cruel melee, which involved various factions and countless powerhouses, finally concluded, Mingdu, once the symbol of the Sun Moon Empire's glory and prosperity, would be no more.
Whether it was the magnificent palaces, the bustling streets, or the buildings that carried countless history and culture... all would be reduced to a pale ruin covered by rolling magma and dead, scorched earth in this series of devastating impacts, silently narrating the cruelty and tragedy of this war.
"Not good!!"
Miles away, Kong Deming suddenly turned his head to look toward the imperial palace. His pupils instantly shrank to pinpricks.
He had long sensed the unusually intense and disturbing energy fluctuations coming from the imperial palace area, knowing that powerful enemies were attacking the core of the palace.
But he hadn't been overly worried—with Long Xiaoyao and Ye Xiushui, two Limit Douluo standing at the continent's peak, guarding Xu Tianran, it was virtually foolproof.
After all, even he, Kong Deming, was not fully confident he could kill the deep-minded Regent Prince under the combined assault of the Long-Ye duo.
But now, the light and heat that suddenly erupted and swept out like a tsunami—the energy level of which was terrifying and completely beyond his prediction.
Even from such a distant range, he could clearly feel the scorching pain on his skin, as if he were about to be ignited.
The attacker... was absolutely no ordinary powerhouse!
It was an extra-standard existence capable of genuinely threatening Xu Tianran's life, and one that might even be thorny for Long Xiaoyao and Ye Xiushui to handle.
With almost no hesitation, a sharp light flashed in Kong Deming's eyes, and he instantly made his decision.
The Silver Moon Divine Light Shield surrounding him, a symbol of the Sun Moon Empire's highest Soul Tool technology, suddenly burst out with unprecedented brilliant light. Streaks of silver radiance flowed frantically like living things, forcibly tearing open the stable space before him, forming a constantly twisting and humming spatial rift.
He didn't even look back at the battlefield behind him. He unhesitatingly leaped into the dangerous spatial rift, his figure instantly engulfed by silver light, disappearing from his spot. He rushed toward the core area of the imperial palace at the fastest possible speed.
Since he had made his choice and placed his bet on Xu Tianran, he absolutely would not allow the Regent Prince to die easily before the final outcome was revealed.
Xu Tianran's life or death was directly related to his future plans and the stability of the empire.
"Hey, hey... you're running away already? That's too boring, isn't it?"
Tartaglia scratched his short orange hair irritably. He watched the spatial rift quickly heal and finally disappear, pouting in boredom.
However, he genuinely wasn't interested in getting involved in the murky waters of the imperial palace. For him, protecting an unknown, deep-minded Regent Prince was far less important than having an exhilarating fight with a well-matched opponent.
Just then, a clear and steady sound of footsteps came from not far behind him.
Tartaglia instinctively turned to look.
When his gaze caught the familiar figure walking slowly toward him, all the irritation and laziness on his face were replaced in a fraction of a second by an extreme, ecstatic joy.
His ice-blue eyes instantly shone astonishingly bright, as if stars were exploding within them.
"Master, is that really you?! This is truly... an unexpected delight!"
He almost skipped forward a few steps, excitedly flexing his knuckles, which made a crisp click sound. An invisible, surging battle intent and lightning began to permeate around him, and a suppressed, almost substantial blaze of flame burned in his eyes.
"I finally see you again! I haven't been lazy at all these years; I've become strong enough—strong enough that this time, you'll have no choice but to... use both hands."
The joy of reunion perhaps occupied only a small part of his mood. More dominant was the long-suppressed excitement and competitive spirit, yearning for another all-out confrontation with his revered teacher.
He yearned to prove his growth, to earn the recognition of this strongest instructor, and the only way to earn that recognition was through battle.
"Teacher...?"
Bai Xiuxiu stood quietly half a step behind Skirk, gazing at the unfamiliar young man whose emotions instantly surged and whose battle intent swelled like the sea, blinking her clear blue eyes in confusion.
Skirk had never mentioned having any other disciples, let alone one who looked like a complete and utter battle maniac.
"Mm."
Skirk's expression remained as calm as still water, as if the extremely excited Tartaglia before her was no different from a roadside stone.
Her slender fingertip casually conjured an icy chill, instantly condensing into a translucent, fiercely sharp Ice Longsword.
She knew her disciple's nature too well. The moment the fellow opened his mouth, the words "I want to fight" were clearly written on his face.
"He is a disciple I took in years ago, Tartaglia. By order, you should call him Senior Brother."
"Oh, a Junior Sister?"
Tartaglia finally turned his gaze toward Bai Xiuxiu behind Skirk, a brief flash of surprise in his eyes—he hadn't expected his usually solitary master to take another disciple in this foreign world.
But this slight surprise was instantly drowned out by the more surging wave of battle intent. He waved his hand casually, his tone possessing an undeniable, almost arrogant assertiveness.
"Junior Sister, you should step back for now. Just watch the show from a safe distance. If Master and I fight, and I accidentally hurt you, that would be a real mood killer."
Skirk spoke no more unnecessary words.
She simply raised the Ice Sword in her hand, which seemed capable of freezing the soul. The long, cold tip pointed steadily at Tartaglia's heart.
With just this movement, an aura of ultimate, deep cold sword intent permeated the area, instantly plummeting the temperature within dozens of meters. A thick layer of white frost immediately condensed on the ground.
Even the moisture in the air was frozen, transforming into flying snowflakes.
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