Chapter 1070

Miyang was struck by a ghost-god and sent flying horizontally, crashing through dead trees and shattering rocks. He finally came to a stop with a loud rumble against a massive black boulder.

However, Miyang showed no hesitation. He gave the two ghost-gods a grave look and, almost instantly, transformed into a pale yellow streak of light, continuing his pursuit of She Ji and Sun Yiqiu.

The two ghost-gods had been ready for a fierce battle with this formidable demon, but they were surprised that despite such a powerful blow, the demon ignored it and went straight back to chasing the human and demon duo.

Reacting instinctively, the two ghost-gods struck again. No matter what this terrifying evil creature intended, stopping him was undeniably the right course of action.

"Stop him!"

The ghost-god wielding an iron whip seemed to swell with muscles, his armor bulging even more imposingly. As he launched forward, he pushed off with his back foot, where a brass bell, now larger than a human, was perfectly positioned against his boot.

"Commander Gan!" "Attack!"

The tall-hatted ghost-god behind him channeled all his spiritual power, striking his brass bell artifact with a mighty punch.

"Dong—"

Pale yellow ripples radiated with the resonating bell sound. One of these ripples seemed to travel directly from the military ghost-god's foot up into his body. With a powerful surge, the military ghost-god, trailing divine light, shot forward like a meteor, pursuing Miyang.

The massive iron whip, dragging immense yin energy and divine light, seemed to exert an exaggerated pressure, bending into an extreme arc. As the military ghost-god surged forward, the zone of compression in front of the whip grew increasingly vast and distorted, spanning hundreds, then thousands of feet.

The demon ahead only focused on pursuit, not stopping to engage. The military ghost-god sneered, his ghost-god power continuously condensing and amplifying. He knew this demon was no ordinary foe and that this strike required his utmost effort.

Finally, the iron whip descended like a mountain range, carrying the force of a tsunami.

"You wretch, prepare to die!"

Even Miyang could no longer ignore this immense oppressive force. While still flying, he involuntarily looked back, seeing the ghost-god's aura spread across the horizon. This attack, fully charged, would undoubtedly be incredibly powerful.

The ghost-god's roar echoed like thunder from the underworld.

However, this imposing aura did not fill Miyang with fear; instead, his face lit up with excitement.

"How impressive! If I weren't preoccupied today, you would be worth me truly exerting myself to destroy!"

Despite his words, Miyang had to adapt. He continued his flight but twisted his body to face backward, his robes billowing. A surge of powerful demonic energy radiated from him, and starlight flickered in his eyes. He extended and crossed his hands forward, preparing to block the attack and even trying to use its force.

All of this happened in an instant. The next moment, the ghost-god's iron whip was upon Miyang.

Like a tsunami engulfing a small boat, Miyang was instantly enveloped by the whip's might. Everything around him was overturned, but this was merely the aftershock. A moment later, beneath this "wave," Miyang's arms had just managed to brace against the incoming iron whip.

"Booming rumbling—"

Unlike Miyang's previous battle with Hu Yun, this was a clash of absolute power. The intense shockwaves spread outward, as if tearing apart the underworld landscape as far as the eye could see.

Miyang gripped the iron whip with all his might, veins bulging on his face, fangs emerging from the corners of his mouth. As the whip continued to press down, his anger surged. He realized he couldn't use its force; there was something strange about this whip.

The military-styled ghost-god had also seen through the demon's intention. Not only was the whip's angle incredibly tricky, but it also contained kinetic energy condensed from martial might – a form of formless strength from the highest realm of martial arts. If Miyang tried to use its force, he would not only suffer damage but also be thrown in another direction.

Miyang understood this instantly, but it was too late. The best course of action now was to take the full force of the blow.

"Haaah—"

"Hmph—"

The power of the ghost-god and the alien power of the demon clashed on the vast, desolate underworld. Everything around them was torn apart, and endless yin energy and dust were stirred up.

Even She Ji and Sun Yiqiu, who had fled a great distance, could still feel the earth-shattering commotion. They looked back at the distant horizon, where the boundary between heaven and earth was filled with dust and distorted light and darkness.

"Lady She, they..."

"We can't worry about them now. We must run quickly. I hope the two honored deities can buy us time to escape!"

Sun Yiqiu's heart sank. He might be inexperienced, but he wasn't foolish. She Ji's words implied she believed the two ghost-gods might not be able to defeat the formidable demon.

Far in the distance, Miyang and the ghost-god's confrontation reached its climax of stored power. Miyang was finally knocked back by the strike, sent plummeting to the earth, disappearing below the surface like a falling meteor.

The military ghost-god glanced at the distance where She Ji and Sun Yiqiu's escape lights were no longer visible. Then he immediately looked down at the earth. Although the opponent had taken his blow, his demonic energy remained condensed and undisturbed, indicating that its core had barely been shaken – a truly terrifying display. Fortunately, this was the underworld, and he was not fighting alone.

"Dong dong dong dong......"

The bell chimed, each peal scraping away layers of earth and stone, and sweeping away the lingering dust.

Soon, the figure kneeling on the ground became clear. However, the terrifying demonic energy around him almost imperceptibly distorted the surroundings, like a shimmering mirage caused by heat. His entire body appeared completely unharmed.

With each bell chime, a flash of light followed, and the demon was subjected to increasing pressure, each stronger than the last, causing the cracks in the earth to constantly expand.

Yet, under these conditions, the demon slowly stood up. The military ghost-god stared intently downwards, and the tall-hatted ghost-god's pupils in the distance widened slightly. A realization dawned on both ghost-gods: this demon was the most formidable they had ever encountered, without equal.

Miyang glanced into the distance, then slowly looked up at the sky, at the military-styled ghost-god suspended and ready for battle.

"It seems I won't be able to pursue them peacefully without dealing with you first. You don't seem like an unknown figure; that last move was truly remarkable. State your name."

The ghost-god gripped his iron whip tightly and said coldly,

"I am Gan Qingle, one of the Great Marshals of the Underworld! Who are you, demon? With such power, you cannot be nameless!"

Miyang nodded.

"I'll tell you before you die."

After this casual remark, Miyang on the ground was reduced to a mere afterimage. To the ghost-god, a blurry figure shot rapidly into the sky.

The military ghost-god's pupils contracted sharply. He swung his iron whip into a whirling wheel, striking heavily towards Miyang.

"Dong—"

The bell chimed, and divine light flashed. Miyang's blurry figure instantly slowed down and became much clearer. The military ghost-god seized the opportunity to strike.

"Boom...!" "Boom...!" "Boom...!"

Three instantaneous strikes, all defensive with no offensive power. Punches, palms, and kicks struck the iron whip from three directions, bending it each time. The military ghost-god was also knocked towards the earth, landing with a "boom" and sinking into the ground up to his knees, his golden body manifestation partially embedded.

But before the ghost-god could catch his breath, Miyang's assault arrived. He pointed a finger, and a sword qi formed from Geng Metal energy appeared, reaching the ghost-god's brow in an instant. The ghost-god only had time to block with his iron whip, and the slightly diverted sword qi sheared off a large chunk of flesh from his shoulder. His armor offered no resistance.

Blood flowed from the Marshal of the Underworld's shoulder wound, and the detached flesh instantly turned into golden dust and vanished. But the military ghost-god seemed impervious to the pain. With a surge of his legs, he burst from the ground with a rumble, soaring directly into the sky.

The Marshal of the Underworld narrowed his eyes slightly. Thousands of years of spiritual power and incense power continuously surged forth, his eyebrows and beard lengthening several feet as if out of thin air. Even his eyes seemed to glow with a narrow, golden flame. His precious helmet and armor shattered directly, turning into golden liquid that flowed into his body. Since the armor was useless, he decided to enhance his own power. If there was still a chance, he could always re-forge it later.

At this moment, the ghost-god revealed his steel-like hair and beard, resembling Zhang Fei or Zhong Kui.

"You wretch, how dare you be so arrogant!"

"What magnificent spirit!"

Miyang praised him and attacked again, unconstrained by specific spells or martial arts, striking freely as if enjoying the battle.

The ghost-god dared not relax for a moment, having almost no ability to counterattack. Even so, he put his full strength into blocking each blow. Although he was covered in wounds within a dozen breaths, infinite divine power and incense vows surged forth, allowing him to recover instantly, at least on the surface.

Moreover, the ghost-god's bell never stopped chiming. Each chime boosted the Marshal's morale and increased the pressure on Miyang. At critical moments, the bell also allowed the Marshal to clearly see Miyang's movements.

"Dong—"

At this moment, the bell chimed again. Miyang had just lunged to grasp the ghost-god's skull. Even with the heavy pressure from the bell, the ghost-god couldn't dodge in time.

But suddenly.

Swish—

The Marshal of the Underworld vanished from his spot, reappearing above Miyang. His muscles bulged, and the golden blood covering his body looked like golden patterns. The iron whip seemed entwined with golden threads, becoming exceptionally dazzling.

Miyang only had time to slightly tilt his head, his pupils contracting slightly.

'Shifting Shadows? He possesses such martial arts prowess? He can actually shift? And he waited until now to use it? Was he trying to lull me into a false sense of security for this one strike?'

Shifting Shadows, a manifestation of the highest realm of martial arts, was said to have been created by the Martial Sage in the boundless mountains. With this technique, Martial Sage Zuo Wuji alone could contend with billions of ancient demons, his flesh and blood body single-handedly rebuilding a "Two-World Mountain."

But the conditions for achieving this heaven-defying martial art were extremely stringent. Besides requiring talent and unimaginable effort, it also demanded reaching the 'Utmost Sincerity' path in martial arts. It was normal for a ghost-god to cultivate martial arts, but bound by divine power, shifting shadows would be like shifting a mountain—it should be impossible!

But impossible or not, the evidence was right before him.

"Die—"

The Marshal of the Underworld's face was distorted with fury, his life's cultivation condensed into this blow, even his golden body appeared mottled. The iron whip was like a golden longsword, cleaving towards the demon's midsection, his conviction boundless, determined to split the demon in half.

At this moment, Miyang's muscles instantly swelled immensely, his robes tore, and his body rapidly expanded, beginning to reveal his true form. His legs turned a glossy black, like diamond, and he brought them together, bracing them upwards. His body spun, and his arms struck upwards in quick succession.

"Roar—"

"Clang—"

The light was dazzling, the roar louder than thunder. Everything seemed to be torn apart in the radiance. The tall-hatted ghost-god holding the bell was also sent flying, spitting divine blood, and the golden bell shattered into countless pieces, scattering in all directions...

After a long time, all commotion gradually ceased. Only a ten-foot-tall golden fierce ape stood on the ground. Its right hand was twisted, and a deep crack extended from its right leg all the way to its right hip, reaching deep into the bone.

The fierce ape pressed its left hand against its twisted right hand and gave it a twist. With a crack, the arm was reset. As for the gash, it ignored it. It turned its head to the side; the tall-hatted ghost-god had already fled and vanished. It then looked down at the ground not far away, where only half of the Marshal of the Underworld's body and half of his face remained.

The fierce ape slowly shrank, returning to its scholarly appearance.

"Gan Qingle, well done. I will remember you."

After muttering these words, Miyang instantly vanished from the spot, flying far into the distance. At the center of the battlefield, only the Marshal of the Underworld's shattered golden body manifestation remained, gradually turning into golden dust and disappearing.