Chapter 1523 - 442: Where’s the sect? I’m asking you, where did such a huge sect go?

Xuanyuan Hao subconsciously rubbed his eyes, thinking he was seeing things. He even took out a jade scroll map and examined it carefully, confirming he had come to the right place.

"Wait, where’s the sect?"

...

Boom!

At that moment, the firmament suddenly tore open. A pitch-black spatial rift spanned dozens of miles, and within the raging chaotic currents of the void, a black flying ship that blotted out the sky descended fiercely!

A terrifying pressure poured down like the Milky Way. Xuanyuan Hao, who had still been in a dazed stupor, felt all the bones in his body crackling, actually forced down as if his height had been cut by a third.

His pupils shrank. Before he could raise his head, three figures were already standing silently in front of him—

The three of them exuded a sky-scraping aura. The purple-robed elder in the center stood upon the air, nine pitch-black chains roaming around him like living creatures.

The burly giant of a man on the left made the very void tremble with each step he took. On his back was a blood-colored giant axe, encrusted with scabs of blood that seemed like they would never dry.

The baleful qi coiling around him faintly condensed into countless phantom wraiths.

The one on the right was a handsome young man, his white robes whiter than snow, toying with a blood-colored jade pendant in his hand.

But in those peach-blossom eyes flowed a nirvanic intent that made one’s blood run cold.

Xuanyuan Hao felt his breath seize. He hurriedly bowed together with Lu Yuanchen and saluted: "Xuanyuan Hao, Emperor of the Holy Martial Dynasty, pays respects to the three seniors!"

Before his voice fell, the sound of air being torn apart suddenly rang out.

Fifteen figures shot out from the flying ship like lightning. The uniform Spirit Severing Realm pressure they released merged into one, twisting the space within a hundred miles.

The purple-robed elder at the very front stepped forward. His expression was sinister and gloomy, a blood-colored vertical mark at his brow particularly eye-catching.

"You are the Human Emperor of this cultivation country?" The Fifth Ancestor, Yan Wuming, spoke with a voice as cold as ice, each word like a heavy hammer pounding on the heart.

Xuanyuan Hao forcibly swallowed down the bloody taste at his throat and straightened his back to stand up.

Though he trembled slightly under the other party’s pressure, he had no choice but to maintain the bearing of a Human Emperor: "I am. Might I know how to address Senior?"

Yan Wuming acted as if he had not heard Xuanyuan Hao’s question.

His withered fingers flipped, and an imaging stone floated up, projecting a clear image.

In the image was the portrait of a young man with delicate features.

The youth’s brows and eyes were like blades, the corner of his mouth carrying a faint, elusive smile. His entire being emanated an indescribable spiritual charm.

"Is this man under your Holy Martial Dynasty?" Yan Wuming’s voice suddenly sank, the speed of the nine chains’ roaming visibly quickening, emitting a shrill clang.

Xuanyuan Hao’s pupils narrowed; with one glance he recognized this as Zhou Qing of the Taiqing Sect.

But his thoughts whirled, and he forcibly suppressed his shock and doubt, not answering immediately.

"This man..."

Boom!

A terrifying pressure suddenly crashed down. The bones in Xuanyuan Hao’s waist crackled, his knees went weak, and he almost knelt on the spot.

"Yes, or no?" Yan Wuming’s voice already carried a chilling killing intent.

"I know him, I know him!" Cold sweat streamed down Xuanyuan Hao’s forehead. "This man is Zhou Qing of the Taiqing Sect, but he has no dealings with this emperor..."

The blood mark at Yan Wuming’s brow flashed, and his pressure slightly withdrew: "As expected."

He turned and looked into the distance. "Lead the way. To the Taiqing Sect."

Xuanyuan Hao wiped the cold sweat on his forehead and, his hand trembling, pointed ahead: "There... is where the Taiqing Sect lies..."

Following the direction he pointed, Yan Wuming saw only a cloud-filled abyss stretching beyond sight, and his brows knitted tightly. "Here?"

"Y-yes..." Xuanyuan Hao’s voice went hollow. "That is, it was, it seems... it suddenly just vanished..."

"Vanished?" Yan Wuming laughed from sheer rage, the nine chains going taut in an instant.

He stepped out, and black ice crystals formed in the void beneath his feet. In a flash, he was standing above the abyss.

His sinister gaze swept over this bizarre emptiness, and Yan Wuming’s expression grew increasingly foul.

When their group had just crossed into the Holy Martial Dynasty’s borders, a cultivator had recognized the man in the portrait—Taiqing Sect’s youngest Spirit Severing Realm cultivator, Zhou Qing.

Following the directions they’d been given, they headed east all the way. They should have seen a top-tier sect that dominated the Eastern Domain.

And now?

Before coming, his elder brother had instructed them to slaughter the Taiqing Sect, capture everyone related to Zhou Qing, and use them as leverage to force him to appear.

But now you’re telling me a sect of Eastern Domain Dominator level has disappeared?

"You two, come here!" The Seventh Ancestor, Yan Wutian, was burly and towering, the blood-colored giant axe on his back gleaming with cold light. His thick fingers pointed at the two of them.

Xuanyuan Hao and Lu Yuanchen exchanged a glance, then followed along.

The crowd stood suspended in the air, the abyss below churning with eerie gray mist.

The Fifth Ancestor, Yan Wuming, closed his eyes, the blood mark at his brow flickering in brightness as a vast tide of divine sense swept over every inch of land.

After a long moment, he suddenly opened his eyes, a hint of astonishment flashing within.

"You’re certain this is the Taiqing Sect?" Yan Wuming fixed a deathly stare on Xuanyuan Hao. "There isn’t a second sect by this name in the Eastern Domain?"

Cold sweat beaded on Xuanyuan Hao’s forehead. "To answer Senior, it is absolutely true... this is the Taiqing Sect where Zhou Qing resides.."

"Heh..." Yan Wuming suddenly let out a cold laugh. "Then tell me, where did such a vast sect go?"

"I... this..." Xuanyuan Hao’s Adam’s apple rolled, his voice shaking.

Mostly it was that his mind was still somewhat blank—he genuinely didn’t know!

Yan Wuming’s eyes narrowed slightly, the blood-colored vertical mark shimmering with a dark light.

He slowly turned his head, his gaze landing on Consort Chen beside him, her face deathly pale.

"This is your beloved consort?" Yan Wuming’s voice was terrifyingly calm.

Xuanyuan Hao nodded with difficulty.

Yan Wuming’s lips slowly curled into a strange arc as his withered right hand rose, inch by inch.

A point of ghostly light gathered at his fingertip. He lightly pointed forward—

"Bang!"

With a muffled sound, Consort Chen’s palace dress suddenly swelled and exploded.