Chapter 1555: Blood of Origin

Yang Yan snorted coldly, a starry river also appeared around him.

Though not as wide as his opponent’s, it was more concentrated.

Simultaneously, the shadow of the Demon God appeared above the starry river, as if an Immortal King, surveying the heavens, carrying a rolling starry river rushing towards the opponent.

The clash of both was akin to two real starry rivers colliding.

Countless stars shattered and vanished within.

Among them, stars exploded, transforming into endless light and heat, making it hard to gaze directly.

Yang Yan’s figure did not pause, holding the World-Ending Demon Spear, he charged towards the light and shadow.

The mirror and spear collided continuously, the surrounding space fractured everywhere.

Terrorizing spatial fissures emerged, but this place seemed isolated from time, as the fissures appeared they seemed frozen, becoming mere decorations.

Yang Yan gradually felt something was amiss.

The light and shadow seemed to grasp the Mirror Image Rule, yet it felt different.

Its power was akin to Yang Yan’s; when Yang Yan grew stronger, the shadow also grew stronger.

If Yang Yan weakened, the shadow remained just as formidable.

Yang Yan’s heart sank.

If this delay continued, he would exhaust his strength and die.

Yang Yan continuously contemplated ways to counter, but after a period, he felt a sense of helplessness.

Whether it was Spiritual Attack, Military Technique, Bloodthirsty Mad Saber, none of these affected the light and shadow in the slightest.

Only the World-Ending Demon Spear posed a certain threat to the light and shadow.

Even Space Rules and Time Rules were useless against it.

Yang Yan grew anxious.

Yet the light and shadow did not encounter such issues, always maintaining its original attack speed, pressing towards Yang Yan’s face.

It seized upon Yang Yan’s moment of distraction, and instantly a starry river fell upon him.

Yang Yan was immediately heavily injured.

At this moment, the dormant World Tree in Yang Yan’s sea of consciousness underwent a violent change.

The World Tree suddenly exhibited intelligence, its two leaves unfolded, instantly expanding.

Its brilliance shone, emerging from Yang Yan’s sea of consciousness, hovering behind him, gradually coagulating into a tangible form.

Starry rivers entwined its leaves, the universe birthed among its branches, immense celestial bodies floated around it.

Yang Yan wore a shocked expression, this World Tree resembled the one on the Ancient Battlefield, except its size was smaller.

At that moment, the light and shadow unexpectedly cried out: “World Tree, this is the young World Tree! Wasn’t the World Tree shattered by those supreme beings long ago? Why does it still exist in the world?!”

“Indeed, the World Tree is eternal, it’s impossible for her to be destroyed. Who are you, who exactly are you, why are you protected by the World Tree? Are you…”

Before the light and shadow could finish speaking, suddenly the World Tree moved.

The World Tree’s branches extended like the Spear of Destiny, piercing through the light and shadow, instantly dissipating it.

Simultaneously, the World Tree seemed unsatisfied, its branches delved into the bloody sea.

Instantly, the sea seemed to boil, evaporating rapidly, becoming shallow.

However, this movement enraged the arm below.

The arm reached for the World Tree like a pillar supporting the sky.

The World Tree’s branches gently unfurled, taking Yang Yan out of this space.

The arm furiously destroyed the broken and desolate bloody sea, taking a long time to calm down.

Outside, the Battlefield of Ten Thousand Races became illusory, everyone stood on the mirror-like surface, gazing down at the cosmic starry river.

Yang Yan hid within the Void, secretly burying the sudden twists he faced, as everyone was forcefully taken back to where they came from.

The Battlefield of Ten Thousand Races concluded, all the prodigies returned to their planets.

Meanwhile, at the black altar of the Post-Immortal Race, many cultivators gathered here, waiting for the Celestial Venerable’s return.

However, after three hours passed, there was still no sign of anyone above the altar.

This stirred unease among those present.

They felt a foreboding in their hearts.

A rugged man standing at the forefront, had eyes filled with unease.

He turned back urgently and said, “First Elder, you reckon Tian’Er might have run into trouble.”

Behind him, a slender man shook his head and said in a grave tone, “I don’t know! Let’s wait and see. After all, we weren’t so familiar with the Battlefield of Ten Thousand Races before, maybe the Celestial Venerable will be back soon!”

Just as the two were speaking, the altar trembled, a beam of light shot skyward, all the cultivators present watched with worship and anticipation.

However, after the beam turned into scattered light points and disappeared, there appeared before them a lifeless corpse.

“No!”

The First Elder let out a wail of sorrow, trembling as he knelt down, his somewhat aged body prostrate on the ground.

Those around were greatly shocked, none could accept this outcome.

Their race’s future king, the Post-Immortal Race’s century-long plan had dissipated just like that.

The First Elder and the rugged man took swift steps to the side of the Celestial Venerable’s body.

The First Elder gazed at the Celestial Venerable’s corpse with hatred and said, “Tian’Er, rest assured, I will avenge you.”

After grieving for a while, he gently closed the Celestial Venerable’s unwilling eyes and spoke turning his back:

“Second Elder, immediately prepare the Blood Tracing Technique, I wish to see who killed my Tian’Er.”

The Second Elder shuddered slightly upon hearing this, saying, “Brother, the Blood Tracing Technique has too high a cost, shouldn’t we…”

“Silence!” The First Elder interrupted Second Elder furiously, gritting his teeth and said, “This is an order, just execute it, ignore the rest.”

On hearing the angry roar of the First Elder, the Second Elder’s eyes sank, he opened his mouth but finally swallowed his words.

He bowed respectfully, then sighed and said, “Understood! I will prepare it now.”

A moment later, the Second Elder returned to the First Elder’s side with a bronze mirror and a dagger.

The patterns on the bronze mirror were several sinister ghost heads.

And the dagger was handleless, its blade unpolished.

The First Elder saw these items, glanced around, waved his hand, and spoke loudly: “Everyone here, contribute a drop of your Blood of Origin. If you refuse, you will be executed on the spot.”

On hearing the First Elder’s command, an uproar arose in the crowd.

The Blood of Origin is arguably the most precious thing for a cultivator.

It exists since the day a cultivator begins their Daoist cultivation, an embodiment of their essence.

If a cultivator loses a drop of Blood of Origin, it means their cultivation will stagnate for life unless a major stroke of luck occurs.