The Cold and Aloof Palace Master's Daily Demon-Slaying Life

Chapter 132 I have a weapon that can move mountains, sever rivers, overturn seas, subdue demons, suppress monsters, and command gods.

On this day, the thin clouds that had been flowing silently suddenly began to move on their own without any wind, slowly rotating and converging towards a certain center point.

The chaotic spiritual energy tides also showed a strange deflection.

Fu Shui Zhenjun's lowered eyelids twitched slightly.

He didn't look up, but a faint, almost imperceptible light flickered in the depths of his murky eyes.

coming.

The next moment—

"Sizzle"

Dozens of miles away from where True Lord Fu Shui sat, the once calm void was suddenly torn apart as if by an invisible giant claw, producing a piercing, sharp sound, like cloth being forcibly ripped open.

A massive rift, hundreds of feet long, with unstable purple-black lightning crackling along its edges, a dark and deep interior, and emanating a terrifying spatial suction force, appeared out of thin air.

As soon as the crack formed, a deep and majestic dragon's roar, like the resonance of ten thousand thunderbolts, emanated from it.

Roar! Five colossal thunder dragons, each over a thousand feet long, composed entirely of pure, condensed purplish-black Yin lightning power, with ferocious scales and crackling lightning, were the first to burst forth from the spatial rift.

The five dragons are all different in form, some with their heads raised and eyes glaring, some coiling and reaching out their claws, and some swinging their tails and tearing through the sky, exuding overwhelming ferocity and pure aura of destruction.

Their appearance stirred up the sea area within a radius of hundreds of miles. The seawater below suddenly caved in, forming five huge whirlpools. The chaotic spiritual energy in the air was forcibly pushed aside and ionized, making popping sounds.

The five thunder dragons did not rush towards the True Lord Fu Shui, who was dozens of miles away. Instead, after emerging from the rift, they quickly separated and circled the enormous spatial rift, soaring and dancing high in the sky. Their heads were lowered, bowing towards the interior of the rift as if subjects were respectfully welcoming a king. The dragon roars also turned low, submissive, and full of awe.

Immediately afterwards, in the center of the five dragons encircling and ten thousand thunderbolts clearing the way, a dark figure stepped out from the depths of the dark spatial rift.

There was no grand scale, no dazzling brilliance.

It's just a simple step.

However, the instant her toes touched the void of the East China Sea, "crack, crack, crack—"

Centered on her landing point, the void within a radius of several hundred feet suddenly appeared like a glass mirror that had been struck by a heavy blow, with countless fine, clear cracks flashing with purple-black lightning.

The cracks spread and intertwined wildly, emitting a continuous, heart-stopping sound of breaking.

It was as if this space was simply unable to bear her "existence," and that her mere "arrival" was enough to cause the void structure to collapse.

With each step she took, the void beneath her feet shattered, leaving a "footprint" covered with spiderweb-like cracks.

And so, she stepped on the constantly shattering and mending void, as if walking on an invisible path paved with lightning and fragments of space, slowly emerging from the cracks.

Five thunder dragons circled and murmured, the void shattered and then mended itself.

As she stepped out of the rift and stood still in mid-air, the enormous spatial rift rapidly writhed, healed, and disappeared.

Zuo Qingqiu appeared.

She was still dressed in a black Taoist robe, her face expressionless, as cold and aloof as an ancient, icy pool.

With a calm gaze, he looked dozens of miles away at the figure of the gray-robed old man sitting cross-legged in the void, seemingly one with this chaotic sea.

The two True Lords gazed at each other from afar across the turbulent, spiritually chaotic sea.

A distance of tens of miles, which is insurmountable for ordinary people, is almost face to face for beings like them.

There were no words, no probing, not even any extra eye contact.

The moment Zuo Qingqiu stepped out of the spatial rift and stood there, the battle of the True Lords that would determine the future of the Old Land had already begun.

Fu Shui Zhenjun's eyes, which had been slightly closed, finally opened slowly.

His cloudy eyes calmly reflected the dark figure in the distance, as well as the five giant thunder dragons that coiled and roared, exuding an aura of sinister thunder.

He remained seated cross-legged, his withered right hand slowly emerging from the wide, worn gray sleeve of his robe.

He held no sword, no seal, and no magic weapon.

There is only one pen.

It was an extremely ordinary-looking brush, with a handle made of common green bamboo and brush hairs of ordinary wolf hair, even somewhat worn and old.

It looked like a brush pen that a down-on-his-luck scholar in the mortal world had used for many years.

However, the moment the pen appeared in the hands of True Monarch Fu Shui, the entire world within a radius of ten thousand miles in the East Sea suddenly darkened.

It wasn't that the light disappeared, but rather that all the "colors," as if summoned and governed by some supreme authority, began to converge and submit to this ordinary calligraphy brush.

The sea lost its indigo color, the sky faded from gray-blue, the aurora borealis lost its splendor, and even the purplish-black lightning on the five thunder dragons seemed to dim for a moment.

The vast expanse of land seemed to transform in an instant into an enormous, blank sheet of Xuan paper, ready to be inscribed with ink.

Fu Shui Zhenjun held the brush and gently swung it towards the void in front of him.

His movements were slow and deliberate, like an elderly man casually drawing a line on the snow.

However, it was this seemingly casual wave—

"Buzz"

The void trembled.

The Taoist chants resounded.

With each stroke of the brush, a powerful ink-wash style, perfectly balanced in shades and seemingly gathering the essence of all "water" and "ink" in the world, bursts forth.

The ink painting is not a static object, but something that is constantly changing and evolving.

As the ink splashed, countless majestic celestial figures, clad in golden armor, wielding divine weapons, riding dragons and phoenixes, or treading on clouds and controlling lightning, appeared in the vast sky behind the True Lord of Fu Shui.

Divine power is like a prison, divine grace is like the sea, vast and boundless, numbering no less than a million.

Although these gods were merely phantoms, their awe-inspiring power, which surpassed all living beings and held sway over heaven and earth, was real and undeniable, causing the seawater below to sink dozens of feet into the air.

This is not over yet.

As the ink flowed, behind the millions of illusory images of gods, in the deeper sky, one after another vast and boundless "starry sky" suddenly "lit up".

In every "starry sky", countless "stars" are born, die, rise and fall, and gather into unimaginable stellar power, which is all bestowed upon the body of Fu Shui Zhenjun.

With such terrifying power, he was comparable to an ancient True Monarch. With a mere gesture, he could shatter a vast world, make the supreme beings of the great realms bow down in submission, and make the dominant giants worship him.

If one were to step into the long river of time, one could even withstand its terrifying erosion, going against the current and walking more than ten steps without dying.

Immediately afterwards, Fu Shui Zhenjun's hand, holding the brush, continued to "write" in mid-air, using the void as paper.

One by one, ancient, profound, and seemingly containing the ultimate truths of heaven and earth, as well as recording the secrets of creation, strange "divine scripts" were born out of thin air as he moved his fingertips.

Each divine script, upon its creation, is as heavy as a mountain and as clear as black jade, exuding a terrifying Daoist aura that suppresses the void and seals all laws.

The millions of divine runes were not static, but rather, as if they possessed a life of their own, they automatically arranged and combined, transforming into invisible shackles that sealed off heaven and earth, and divine chains of order that stretched across the void, slowly descending and entangling towards Zuo Qingqiu, who was dozens of miles away.

With a single stroke, a million celestial beings appeared, displaying their awe-inspiring divine power.

The second transformation evolves into a million-star galaxy, bestowing upon the body immense power.

The three books together created millions of divine texts, sealing the heavens and locking the earth.

This is the terrifying manifestation of Fu Shui Zhenjun, who has cultivated for over eight thousand years and pushed the art of ink painting to the ultimate realm of "transforming the void into the real" and "creating something from nothing".

He is no longer limited to "techniques" and "methods," but has reached the level of "the Way."

Heaven and earth and all things can be his brush and ink, can be included in his paintings, and can be subject to his commands.

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