Chapter 487: Clash of Two Powers

The atmosphere was grim and oppressive. On this open area, only Rod and a few others were present. The entire town seemed eerily deserted.
It was the height of summer, noon, with the scorching sun high in the sky, its harsh rays bathing the land. After a morning of baking, the ground resembled a steamer, with visible heat rising from it.
A dull atmosphere, like that of an ice cellar, enveloped the area, extinguishing all talk and chatter.
A cool breeze blew, bringing a chilling sensation. The atmosphere was so stagnant that it made breathing difficult.
In the distance, warriors from the continent and those from the Dark Source stood hundreds of meters away, watching the few people in the arena with serious expressions—filled with anticipation and concern.
The strength of the Demon Marshal was beyond doubt. From Rod’s descriptions, one could gauge the strength of the Demon General, who was already at the later stage of the Yang Xuan realm. How much stronger must the Demon Marshal be? The warrior in the dim yellow realm and the two divine-level warriors didn’t even get a chance to react before being killed in a single strike—this showed just how formidable he was.
Among these people, some knew the owner of this body, yet now he seemed so alien. The terror of the demonic soul made everyone realize once again just how terrifying he was. They exchanged glances—this battle seemed difficult.
Who could match such a powerful foe? The Pope? Or that old man? But both were only at the early and middle stages of the Yang Xuan realm—could they even confront him?
Seeing the old man standing against the Demon Marshal, concern arose. This old man from the Dark Source always gave off a cold aura, making it impossible to gauge his true strength. No one knew, but it seemed this time he would reveal it.
A cool breeze blew, bringing a gust of wind that swept up the dust on the ground and carried it away.
“Alone?” The Demon Marshal asked in a deep voice, looking at the ancestor of the troll tribe. His expression became serious when facing the ancestor, devoid of his earlier arrogance.
“One is enough!” The ancestor’s reply was simple, yet carried an air of finality.
“Hehe, the troll tribe truly is the foremost among ancient tribes. Even under the curse of the Demon God, they managed to produce a warrior at the quasi-Xuan Huang realm—impressive!” With a laugh, the Demon Marshal produced a dark long sword in his hand and said to the ancestor in a calm tone.

His words revealed the Ancestor’s true strength, once again astonishing everyone with his keen insight. No one had been able to discern the Ancestor’s true power until now, yet he could see through it at a glance and state it clearly—proving that he had at least reached that level as well. Rod and his group’s hearts hung in suspense once more.

“Stay alert!” he whispered to the Wolf King and the others around him. They were prepared for the worst scenario: that the Ancestor might not be a match for the Demon Marshal, in which case they would step in.

The Wolf King nodded solemnly, his expression grave, then slowly dispersed among the surroundings. Together with the Pope and that old man, the seven of them surrounded the square tightly from seven different directions, ensuring no chance for the Demon Marshal to escape.

“You’re not bad either—recovering to the quasi-Xuanhuang realm in just half a year!” The Ancestor replied indifferently to the Demon Marshal’s words.

These words also sparked awe among those watching from afar. A clash between two warriors at the quasi-Xuanhuang realm was a scene that rarely occurred even once in ten thousand years. The Darkness Source was so formidable—once again, people saw that it could nurture warriors to this level.

Although they hadn’t yet reached the Great Xuanhuang realm, they had already surpassed the Yangxuan realm, hovering between the two. A mere slight difference could mean a world of difference—warriors at the Yangxuan realm could never defeat those at the quasi-Xuanhuang realm, unless a miracle occurred. Even warriors at the peak of the later Yangxuan stage were no match. Such a tiny gap could lead to a huge disparity, beyond what ordinary people could imagine.

Whispers began to spread among the crowd. Everyone stared wide-eyed, especially the warriors. Seeing two top-tier fighters battle was a rare opportunity. If they watched carefully and learned from it, they could gain unimaginable benefits. No one wanted to miss this chance, even though they knew it was dangerous—they stayed anyway.

At this moment, the aura of both fighters soared steadily, with invisible forces spreading outward, causing their souls to tremble.

Was this what a warrior at the quasi-Xuanhuang realm looked like? Was this their true strength? This aura, this presence, completely subdued everyone—the aura of a king, of supreme power, immense and endless.

Kill intent began to surge, instantly covering the entire area and dropping the temperature to freezing point. Even in the scorching summer, under the blazing sun, people still felt a chill and instinctively tightened their clothes. They gathered their fighting energy to resist these two powerful external auras.

Even some weaker divine-level warriors could only reluctantly retreat at this point, moving back as they could no longer stay there. Forcing themselves to remain would only cause harm to themselves. A few minutes later, unnoticed, they kept retreating until they were already seven or eight hundred meters away! Only then could they barely stabilize their positions. As for Rod, the Wolf Emperor, and the others, despite their strength, they were also forced to retreat due to these two overwhelming forces, ending up about a hundred meters away. The group looked at each other in shock, finally witnessing true power—these were the real strong ones, and they themselves seemed so insignificant in front of them! Rod was certain that if he fought the Demon Marshal now, he had no chance of winning, unless his strength was greatly reduced, in which case he might have a slim chance—still, that would require the use of his divine essence. Now he understood why the Demon General had looked at him with such mockery when mentioning the Demon Marshal—facing him head-on was simply seeking death, and trying to resist with his divine essence at his peak was just asking for failure. … In the distance, the Ancestor and the Demon Marshal stood in mid-air, staring at each other without rushing to attack, their gazes sharp. Beneath their seemingly relaxed appearances, they remained highly alert. If either side struck first at this moment, it would lead to unimaginable consequences, with war on the verge of breaking out. “Fight!” After a long while, perhaps because neither side found any weaknesses or a good opportunity to attack, the Demon Marshal roared and took the initiative. Wielding his long sword, he swung it down from the sky. Instantly, the sword’s blade extended hundreds of feet long, its black edge making the world seem dimmer; in an instant, the sky seemed to darken, giving people a sense of darkness. The blade made a whooshing sound as it sliced through the air, accompanied by a creepy screeching noise. The Ancestor, unwilling to fall behind, quickly retreated while drawing his own long sword—a silver slender blade—that he swung swiftly, creating a barrier in front of him. With a light shout, tens of thousands of sword energies flew like raindrops toward the Demon Marshal across from him. Ding ding ding… A series of crisp collision sounds followed, sparks flying everywhere, and the entire world grew dark, as if influenced by these two powerful auras. Dark clouds gathered, blocking out the scorching sun and darkening the world.

The figures of the two people flashed rapidly between heaven and earth, making it difficult to see them clearly. Those godly-level warriors could only stare in confusion at the empty sky and earth, the occasional flashes of fire, and those illusory shadows—unable to spot the two individuals at all! Only those who had reached the Yin Huang realm could barely make out the situation.

Every move they made was extremely dangerous. A battle between such two powerful fighters was not a protracted struggle as they had imagined; each move was fatal, and even the slightest carelessness could cost one of them their life. True strong warriors, on the other hand, witnessed battles that were even faster, shorter in duration, but undoubtedly earth-shattering.

Wild winds swept through heaven and earth, thunder roared in the sky, and the originally clear weather suddenly turned gloomy! The temperature dropped instantly, giving off the feeling of late autumn. Leaves flew everywhere, accompanied by continuous roaring sounds.

Wherever the sharp sword energy passed, nothing could withstand it—trees were broken in half, and surrounding houses turned into piles of ruins amidst the roaring noise, with dust filling the air.

Vision grew increasingly blurred, the battle grew more intense, and its scope expanded. Rod, the Wolf Emperor, and the others were forced to retreat continuously, moving hundreds of meters before they could find some respite.

Witnessing such a battle, everyone was filled with awe—some were even stunned beyond words, staring wide-eyed in horror.

The speed was extreme, without any fancy moves. At this level, such moves seemed like a hindrance; only the simplest, most practical, and deadliest techniques existed. Each move was infinitely variable, seamlessly integrated into their minds and executed freely.

The lethality was maximized—every move was fatal, capable of taking the opponent’s life. It was heart-stopping, keeping everyone’s hearts in their throats as the battle intensified, as if it might burst out of their bodies at any moment. Thankfully, no one there had heart disease; otherwise, who knows how many times they would have died already.

“Split the Earth!” With another roar, the Demon Marshal separated them once more. Instantly, fierce winds blew, sand and stones flew, and the long sword in his hand emitted a suffocatingly dangerous aura. Elements fluctuated wildly, rushing rapidly toward him as the center point.