The shock lasted only an instant before Domain Lord Zhe Chun's teeth began to grind. Over the past month since departing from Dayan Pass, the humans had made him suffer plenty of hardships—every time, they would stumble into a trap, the humans would charge in to attack, and by the time the Ink Clan regrouped, the humans would vanish without a trace.
Every time, the Ink Clan came out on the losing end, with nowhere to vent their frustration.
This time there were no traps, yet the humans had actually charged out on their own initiative. Rather than saying the Ink Clan had fallen into an encirclement, it was more accurate to say the Ink Clan had stumbled upon the humans' hiding place.
After all, with only twenty-something thousand humans, who could they possibly surround?
Today, he would make the humans pay for everything they had done before.
Zhe Chun roared: "Defend!"
The moment the words left his mouth, a fierce and brutal aura had already locked onto him from afar—killing intent saturated that aura so thickly that it startled Zhe Chun.
Come to think of it, with the two races' armies clashing for over a hundred years, the domain lords had engaged in combat with the humans' Eighth-rank Open Heaven cultivators numerous times, and they had gained some understanding of each other.
This particular aura now locking onto him felt very familiar to Zhe Chun. If his guess was correct, it should belong to an extraordinarily powerful Eighth-rank Open Heaven from the human side.
The opponent seemed to have sensed that he was the leader of the Ink Clan army, which was why they had targeted him from the very start.
Zhe Chun had fought him before and was slightly weaker in single combat, so the instant he sensed that aura lock onto him, he halted his steps and began retreating toward the rear.
At the same time, the Ink Clan soldiers around him surged forward, positioning themselves as a barrier ahead.
Zhe Chun was not so foolish as to face this Eighth-rank human head-on. The Ink Clan's greatest advantage now was their numerical superiority—why wouldn't he use it to defend against the enemy?
By relying on the army's ability to pin down and distract the opponent, even if they couldn't fully stop him, they could at least weaken his strength. Then Zhe Chun would have his own ways to deal with this formidable enemy.
He looked up and saw exactly what he expected—a red-haired human man charging toward them, his worldly power pushed to its absolute limit. His body blazed like a raging inferno, burning so fiercely that even the surrounding space warped and shattered.
It was not just this one figure—dozens of Eighth-rank Open Heaven cultivators had burst out from the human side, each one radiating overwhelming intensity and murderous intent, carrying an aura of unshakable determination and courage.
Zhe Chun's heart pounded. He had no idea what was going on with the humans this time.
One figure was entirely enveloped in a golden mist of blood—the telltale sign of pushing one's vital blood force to its absolute extreme.
Another figure was shrouded in sword light, graceful as a startled swan.
One figure walked through the void as though strolling, and with a single step appeared in the midst of the Ink Clan army.
Yet another arrived with a smile, fingers forming a lotus seal, flower petals swirling around his body.
……
With virtually no delay, the very instant the human army launched its assault, these figures radiating the aura of Eighth-rank Open Heaven had already plunged into the Ink Clan's ranks.
Wherever these figures passed, the Ink Clan army was thrown into complete chaos. Despite their vast numbers, the Ink Clan simply could not hinder the pace of their slaughter.
The several thousand Ink Clan warriors stationed ahead of Zhe Chun had originally been a formidable force—among them, over forty were Lord-level cultivators. With such a force, even an Eighth-rank Open Heaven attacker could be held at bay for a time.
However, this time, when the red-haired human man wreathed in blazing flames charged in, those several thousand Ink Clan warriors simply could not stop his advance.
The red-haired man did not even need to launch any attacks—the flames burning around his body alone caused devastating casualties. There was some mysterious quality to those flames: the instant they touched anything, it burst into fire. In the span of a single breath, nearly a thousand Ink Clan warriors were engulfed in the blaze, their agonized screams echoing everywhere.
The red-haired man thus barreled straight toward a point not far in front of Zhe Chun, completely ignoring the secret arts attacks raining on him from all directions.
"Have you lost your mind?!" Zhe Chun screamed in terror.
There was no other explanation—he had finally realized what was wrong. This red-haired man was burning his own essence blood!
This was a technique unique to human powerhouses. He had heard the Ink Disciples speak of it—human warriors' essence blood was extraordinarily precious, containing the concentrated essence accumulated through ages of cultivation. Under normal circumstances, no warrior would resort to burning their essence blood; only at the razor's edge between life and death would they take such a step.
For while burning one's essence blood could indeed cause a dramatic surge in strength over a short period, the aftermath was equally terrifying. At the very least, severe weakness was unavoidable, and in the worst cases, one's foundation could be damaged, causing their cultivation to plummet.
Yet now, right before his eyes, with the two armies having only just engaged, a powerful Eighth-rank human was charging in while burning his essence blood—if that wasn't madness, what was?
The battle had only just begun! There was no life-or-death crisis whatsoever, nor any prize that demanded such a sacrifice.
Zhe Chun could not understand why this Eighth-rank human would do such a thing.
Though he couldn't make sense of it, he knew one thing—he was in serious trouble.
He was already at a disadvantage in single combat, and now the other man had burned his essence blood, causing his strength to skyrocket. How could he possibly block that? If not for that very reason, the several thousand Ink Clan warriors stationed ahead would not have been so effortlessly swept aside without achieving anything.
No sooner had those words left Zhe Chun's mouth than Ouyang Lie reached into the void and grasped—before him appeared a slender, elegant longsword.
It was hard to imagine that a man as rugged and rough as him would wield an Artifact as delicate and refined as this elegant longsword.