A heretical cultivator in Bureau 749, I'm the fiercest at pulling out tendons and skinning peop

With a flap of its wings, the old Golden-Winged Roc soared straight into the sky.

That direction led to the cloud where Zhang Yucheng was located.

The night wind howled in his ears, stinging his face, but within that pain lay an indescribable pleasure.

The Golden-Winged Roc is proud and yearns for freedom.

They were born to dwell high in the sky, looking down upon all living beings.

The obsession with freedom is something etched into one's bones and flowing in one's blood, passed down from generation to generation, more important than life itself.

If you make a mistake, admit it; if you get hit, stand up straight.

They can die, they can atone with their deaths, but they would never be willing to be imprisoned and lose the freedom to soar through the skies; that would be worse than death.

That kid named Ji Zuodao, though his words were harsh, might have some merit...

These old guys, who fought their way out of mountains of corpses and seas of blood and believe that might makes right, may really not be able to adapt to this new era of fuss and endless rules.

Their pride prevents them from being on equal footing with those weak, short-lived humans who were once merely food and ants, let alone "peaceful coexistence."

Humans are clever enough to invent airplanes, cannons, and skyscrapers, but so what?

These are merely strange and ingenious tricks; how can they compare to the long lifespan, powerful physique, and innate supernatural abilities of the demon race?

He could not disobey the Empress's decree, nor did he want to.

He admired everything the Empress had done for the demon race.

But would it be like letting him, like an old dog with its teeth pulled and claws clipped, roll back to that small patch of old forest to live out the rest of his life?

not.

If one does not wish to lose their freedom, then death is the only option.

But before he dies, he wants to have a good, satisfying fight!

Before, I was worried about the baby, worried about this and that, which made me feel restricted and stifled!

Now that's all, we've lost everything, we're not even afraid of death anymore, so why would we be afraid of Zhang Yucheng?

"Hahaha--!"

The old Golden-Winged Roc couldn't help but let out a long roar, a roar that pierced through gold and shattered stone, exuding an indescribable wildness and joy.

His wings whipped up a violent gale, and his figure transformed into a dazzling golden lightning bolt under the moonlight, crashing fiercely into the thick clouds shrouded in starlight!

"Zhang Yucheng—!!"

With a roar, he charged into the ranks of the 100,000 heavenly soldiers and generals formed from starlight!

In an instant, the starlight erupted!

Countless celestial soldiers clad in golden armor and wielding sharp blades surged forth like a tidal wave. Their swords, spears, and halberds gleamed coldly like a forest, carrying immense stellar power as they rained down upon him!

"Well done!"

A terrifying glint flashed in the eyes of the old Golden-Winged Roc. Instead of dodging or avoiding, he charged straight at the enemy!

His wings were like celestial blades; with each flap, they unleashed a fierce wind and rain of blades that tore everything apart.

Its sharp claws, like golden hooks, could tear several celestial soldiers and their starlight bodies to shreds with a single grab!

Occasionally, it would open its mouth and spew out blazing golden divine light, which would annihilate starlight and scatter heavenly soldiers wherever it passed!

kill!kill!kill!

He no longer held back, no longer cared, and poured all the ferocity, resentment, and frustration he had accumulated over hundreds of years into the boundless sea of ​​stars and soldiers!

The golden light darted left and right amidst the silvery star tide, as if it were in an empty field.

He tore the heavenly soldiers to shreds, and they scattered like fireflies in the starlight.

He was so engrossed in the killing that he felt a surge of exhilaration and exhilaration, as if the blood in his body was burning and boiling!

"That felt great! That felt so good!!"

The old Golden-Winged Roc laughed wildly, its golden feathers adorned with specks of starlight, adding to its wildness.

He felt as if he had returned to his youth, fighting ferocious beasts in the wild swamps and racing against thunder and hurricanes in the sky!

Freedom! This is what freedom feels like! Unrestrained and free to do as you please.

What kind of bullshit rules are these! What kind of bullshit order is this! What kind of bullshit new era is this!

Zhang Yucheng? So what if he's Zhang Yucheng?!

He previously thought Zhang Yucheng was an insurmountable mountain.

Now, he is all alone, and he is not even afraid of death. All he cares about is fighting!

That mountain doesn't seem that high anymore?

Perhaps, we can win?

This thought, like wildfire, instantly ignited all his fighting spirit and energy!

"Zhang Yucheng—!!!"

He let out another roar that shook the entire area, his golden pupils fixed on the figure above the clouds, who stood with his hands behind his back, seemingly watching a play.

He smashed through the last wave of heavenly soldiers blocking his way, carrying an indomitable and suicidal momentum, transforming into the most intense golden light, rushing straight towards Zhang Yucheng!

Kill him! Or be killed by him!

No matter what, we must fight freely and fiercely to the very last moment!

Above the clouds.

Zhang Yucheng watched quietly as the old Golden-Winged Roc, carrying boundless ferocity and determination, crashed into him like a golden meteor. His face remained expressionless, except for a barely perceptible slight raising of an eyebrow.

Then, he pointed his fingers like a sword and casually slashed downwards at the approaching, increasingly dazzling golden light.

There was no earth-shattering fanfare, no flashy lights or shadows.

Only a clear, bright white sword aura, as serene as autumn water and as indifferent as moonlight, quietly emerged from his fingertips and was gently sent forward.

Just moments ago, the old Golden-Winged Roc was so arrogant, slaughtering through 100,000 heavenly soldiers, seemingly about to reverse the tide of fate. His fierce figure, burning with golden flames and full of wildness and untamed nature, suddenly paused before this faint white sword energy.

Like a stirring symphony, it was abruptly paused at its climax.

Time seemed to freeze for a moment.

The old Golden-Winged Roc's ferocious and unrestrained expression was still frozen on his face.

The intense fighting spirit and wild flames in his golden pupils had not yet been extinguished, but were quickly replaced by an incomprehensible and incredulous bewilderment.

He couldn't feel any pain.

All I felt was a chill.

A cool, gentle sensation entered my brow and then softly slid down.

Like a spring breeze brushing against willow branches, like flowing water overflowing over bluestone.

So natural, so casual.

then……

Pfft—!

There was no roar, no explosion.

There was only a soft sound, like a ripe watermelon being gently cut open.

The golden figure that stretched across the night sky with overwhelming momentum disintegrated silently in mid-air after the faint white sword energy swept past.

It wasn't blasted apart, it wasn't exploded.

It is disintegration.

Like an artwork precisely cut by an invisible carving knife, along countless unseen lines, it is evenly and neatly transformed into large and small pieces of meat, with the flesh separated from the bone.

Blood, like a suddenly bursting red firework, splashed out under the moonlight and starlight, tragically beautiful and utterly devastating.

Just moments ago, the Golden-Winged Roc was so majestic and imposing, as if it were ready to fight against the heavens and the earth, and now it's gone.

All that remained was a pile of flesh, mixed with a shower of blood, which drizzled down towards the wasteland below.

"..."

Above the clouds, all was silent.

The night breeze rustled the hem of Zhang Yucheng's black trench coat, making a soft rustling sound.

He lowered his sword fingers, dusted off non-existent dust from his sleeves, and looked at the pile of fallen flesh. His tone carried a hint of helplessness and an almost imperceptible trace of disgust.

"Why are you being so enthusiastic?"

"You made me think you were about to unleash your full power."

"Tsk, what a waste of emotion."

"These 100,000 heavenly soldiers, formed from starlight, were originally intended for use in battle formations, just in case."

"What? You think you're invincible just because you scattered a few starlight? You think you're the Monkey King who wreaked havoc in the Heavenly Palace?"

"Now it seems like we're using a sledgehammer to crack a nut; setting up an array was too wasteful."

"One burst of Taibai sword energy is enough."

Below, in the wasteland, Ji Zuodao, who was craning his neck to watch the "grand scene," blinked as he watched the fresh, hot, and perfectly cut pieces of Peng bird meat falling like rain.

Then, he smacked his lips, turned to Yuan Xiaotong who was also a bit bewildered, grinned, and revealed a set of white teeth:

"See that?"

"What a fine old bird, why did he have to be so stubborn. Well, now that's settled, father and son are both together, they'll have company on their journey to the underworld, enough to make a whole pot of soup."

"Hey, stop standing there! Hurry up and grab a basin to catch it! Don't waste it! This old roc's meat is very precious!"

Yuan Xiaotong: "Okay, Brother Dao!"

He silently pulled out a stainless steel basin bigger than a bathtub and ran off to catch the meat.

Above the clouds, Zhang Yucheng listened to the sounds coming from below, and the corner of his mouth seemed to twitch slightly.

This kid is getting more and more outrageous.