Pay-to-Win Cultivation: I Get 10,000x Returns

Chapter 256: Countdown to the Kingdom of Heaven

In an instant, the cultivators who had been suicidally attacking the fleet were jolted awake from their trance. Terror seized them, and they transformed into countless streams of light, fleeing desperately in all directions. Only a handful of fanatics remained, fighting a hopeless battle.

Lu Yao, mixed in with the fleeing crowd, trembled uncontrollably. She watched the apocalypse unfold before her eyes. The once majestic holy land—the symbol of the world’s number one sect—was turning into a sea of fire and ruin. Her heart was filled with endless fear and a profound sense of absurdity.

“That Senior… just how terrifying is he?!”

She screamed, abandoning all thought except survival. Panic fueling her flight, she rode her sword wildly, desperate to escape this hell.

Inside the earth-yellow light shield, the three Palace Masters exchanged glances. Each saw despair and resolve in the others’ eyes.

“Fight him to the death!!”

The three simultaneously ignited their auras, burning their life force to reach their peak. They were going all out.

Simultaneously, Zhang Xian activated [Shadow Flame]. Pitch-black fire, capable of incinerating all things, erupted from his body and coiled around him like a dragon.

He coldly announced the time.

“You have sixty breaths left.”

The battle erupted once more within the confined cage of the light shield! This time, neither side held anything back.

BOOM!

Spirit light exploded in a blinding flash.

A moment later, with a deafening crash, four figures were sent flying backward simultaneously.

Zhang Xian slammed heavily against the energy wall. A sweet taste rose in his throat, and he spat out a mouthful of bloody foam.

Fighting three Nascent Soul masters alone, while they’re boosted by the remnants of their sect’s formation… it’s a bit of a stretch, he thought, wiping his lip.

Opposite him, Palace Master Wen Yan, who had led the offensive, was drenched in sweat. Her aura was chaotic, her chest heaving. If not for the Sect Master continuously healing her with pure Wood-attribute spiritual power, and the Fugu Palace Master running interference with his talisman puppets, she would have fallen to Zhang Xian’s twin swords long ago.

The Sect Master, possessing a Wood Spiritual Root, had more endurance and was in slightly better condition.

But the Fugu Palace Master, having the lowest cultivation base, looked sallow and withered, as if he had aged decades in an instant. He had forcibly overdrawn his origin source and reached his limit.

Zhang Xian stood up.

“One hundred breaths have passed.”

The three Palace Masters felt their hearts stop.

Immediately, the sky was swallowed by an endless, blinding white light. A violent roar, like Divine Thunder from the Ninth Heaven, descended once more.

Heaven and Earth trembled. All things wailed.

However, within the absolute defense of the [Dark Yellow Mountain-Suppressing Monolith], Zhang Xian and the three Palace Masters were untouched. They were like audience members watching a silent, terrifying pantomime.

The three Palace Masters stiffly turned their necks to look outside.

The second protective formation didn’t even have a chance to struggle. It disintegrated instantly.

The inner sect core area it protected—the immortal palaces holding countless treasures, the floating cultivation islands suspended in the air—was wiped away by an invisible hand of destruction.

Collapse. Disintegrate. Shatter. Burn.

As far as the eye could see, there was only apocalyptic ruin. Thick smoke billowed; raging flames soared to the sky. Only the thirty-six main palace islands at the very center remained standing.

The Guiyuan Sect, the symbol of supreme authority in the cultivation world, had been virtually erased in less than an hour.

“Pfft!”

The Fugu Palace Master couldn’t bear the sight. He vomited a large mouthful of heart’s essence blood, nearly collapsing to his knees.

Palace Master Wen Yan’s beautiful eyes were wide, filled with endless terror and despair.

Right at this moment, they heard that judgmental voice again. Cold. Merciless. Like a messenger from hell.

“This time, it is still one hundred breaths.”

“Third volley. Calibration in progress. Target: The Thirty-Six Palaces. Objective: Breaching the third protective formation.”

Zhang Xian finished speaking expressionlessly.

Above, the barrels of the thousands of warships emitted the heartless sound of mechanical rotation. They swiveled in unison, locking onto the true lifeline of the Guiyuan Sect—the core area of the thirty-six palaces.

The white light of charging capacitors began to gather once more.

Hearing this, the psychological defenses of the three Palace Masters shattered.

The Sect Master stared at Zhang Xian for a long moment. Finally, he spoke in a tone that was nearly pleading, bitter to the extreme.

“Fellow Daoist… I do not know where exactly my Guiyuan Sect has offended you to warrant such extermination. Can you… point out a clear path?”

He realized that if Zhang Xian truly wanted to annihilate them, he wouldn’t have given them time to evacuate. Seeing a sliver of mercy, the Sect Master begged to preserve the last vestige of his sect.

Zhang Xian replied lightly. “A clear path? Of course there is.”

“Tell me. Why did the Guiyuan Sect spread [Hatred] in the Western Region, inciting a great war in the cultivation world?”

The question stunned the Sect Master.

His lips parted, but no words came out. His face was filled with genuine bewilderment and shock.

“Spread Hatred? This… This Poor Daoist knows nothing of this! My Guiyuan Sect is the leader of the Righteous Path! How could we commit such a heaven-defying act?”

Seeing his expression wasn’t feigned, Zhang Xian sneered. He turned his gaze to Wen Yan, standing behind the Sect Master.

“You, the Sect Master, actually don’t know? Then perhaps you should ask the honorable Palace Master of the Wendao Palace.”

The Sect Master slowly turned his head to look at Wen Yan, his eyes filled with disbelief and suspicion.

Wen Yan’s face instantly lost all color. She shouted angrily, “Sect Master! Don’t listen to his attempts to sow discord! This person is clearly an enemy of our Patriarch! He is taking advantage of the Patriarch’s absence to slander us and destroy our Dao lineage! The Guiyuan Sect is upright and honorable! How could we engage in such filth!”

The Sect Master looked at Wen Yan’s agitated, evasive expression. For a moment, his heart was in turmoil.

But as the Sect Master, caught between a monster and his own people, he had to stand with the sect. He turned back to Zhang Xian, his gaze cold and resolute once more.

“Since Fellow Daoist insists on this… This Poor Daoist has no choice but to fight to the death!”

“Stubborn.”

Zhang Xian shifted his tactics.

He took a heavy blow from the Sect Master head-on, using the momentum to slash out with lightning speed.

CRACK!

The Fugu Palace Master, already on his last legs, took the full force of the strike. His protective Spirit Weapon shattered, and he was sent flying, crashing into the barrier and falling unconscious.

Simultaneously, Zhang Xian swallowed a recovery pill. His aura surged back to full strength. Now fighting one against two, he dominated the field.

Within a few exchanges, Wen Yan—exhausted and desperate—exposed an opening. Zhang Xian didn’t miss it. He imprinted a palm strike squarely on her chest.

“Pfft!”

Wen Yan’s vision went black. She sprayed blood and collapsed, unable to rise.

Now, the Sect Master stood alone. Though he fought with the desperation of a dying man, Zhang Xian didn’t deliver a killing blow. Instead, he toyed with him, waiting.

Suddenly, the sky lit up again.

The cannons of the fleet glowed with that despair-inducing white light.

One hundred breaths were up.

The third round of destruction was about to descend.