Mythical Three Kingdoms: Martial Arts Reach Divine Ranks, I Alone Rule the World

Is it a person?

Is it a ghost?

The powerful Xiongnu leader, trapped in a dual realm of meaning, asked in a deep voice.

The solitary old man, in the form of a sage, did not answer.

He simply raised his head sadly, letting his tears fall.

He gazed into the distance at the bleak autumn wind outside the thatched hut, seemingly unaware that a formidable enemy had fallen into the literary and artistic realm he had created.

"I'm also very curious. Could you tell me his name?"

Beneath the vast sky outside.

The gray-haired, powerful Hunnic who had been observing the situation from the sidelines without taking any action spoke slowly.

His tone was calm, without a trace of anxiety.

It seemed as if they didn't care at all about the life or death of their companions trapped in the prison of the artistic conception.

Facing Zhang Mu, he did not harbor the deep-seated hatred that other powerful Xiongnu figures possessed. Instead, he treated Zhang Mu like a passerby he had met by chance in the flow of time, engaging in leisurely conversation.

"The Sage of Poetry"

Zhang Mu remained calm, his voice carrying through the air.

"You may also call him Du Zimei, the Old Man of Shaoling."

"The Poet Saint Du Zimei... does he really deserve the title of 'Saint'?" Adiemo murmured with emotion, his gaze hardening.

"With just a wisp of literary energy, you can conjure two interwoven layers of literary and artistic conception. If the Poet Saint you speak of were to personally appear..."

"My companion is probably already buried in the sorrowful winds of life."

"pity!"

"He didn't come in person."

Before he finished speaking, an overwhelming killing intent surged from his body.

just.

This chilling killing intent did not directly target Zhang Mu.

Instead, he used his powerful blood energy to guide it, piercing through the void and crashing into the dual-layered world of literary and artistic conception, impacting the vast and eternal desolation that filled the sky.

His intention was very clear.

He wanted to awaken the dormant fighting spirit and will to fight within his comrades.

otherwise.

If we allow that companion to continue sinking into despair, his soul consumed by endless sorrow...

No need for fighting.

That companion would lose heart and perish without a fight.

"Such methods are probably futile."

Zhang Mu stood high in the sky, his tone calm and even.

"Try it and you'll know the result."

Ademo said coldly.

In the instant their words exchanged...

Within the two layers of literary and artistic realms, an overwhelming killing intent was now surging forth.

The powerful Xiongnu warrior trapped inside trembled violently, struggling to break free from the layers of sorrow and desolation, his nearly extinguished blood energy reigniting fiercely...

next moment.

A fierce fighting spirit soared to the heavens.

Having shaken off his sorrow, he looked again at the illusory figure of the old man in the thatched hut...

There was no longer a trace of fear in my heart.

A deafening roar resounded!

A towering martial arts dharma image, 43 feet tall, materialized from the void, then trudged heavily through the autumn wind, approaching the dilapidated thatched hut step by step.

"Whether you're human or ghost, this ends here!"

The powerful Xiongnu leader stood with his body positioned between his eyebrows, roaring fiercely.

He manipulated his enormous form, raised his mountain-like foot, and stomped it down on the thatched hut.

This double-layered world is too eerie and oppressive!

He didn't want to linger a moment longer and only wanted a quick victory.

But just as the giant foot was about to crush the roof of the thatched hut...

An unexpected change occurred!

Inside the thatched hut.

The figure of the sage slowly raised his head, and the deep, resonant sound of poetry filled the entire realm of artistic conception.

"If only I could have ten thousand mansions, to shelter all the poor and needy, and make them all smile with joy!"

The sound of chanting began.

The old man's figure became increasingly ethereal and illusory.

Followed by.

A deafening roar shook the heavens and the earth!

The Dharma Image's massive foot stomped down hard, and the simple, dilapidated thatched hut instantly crumbled into pieces.

Thousands of thatch blades of grass rise into the air with the wind, fluttering and dancing across the sky, reaching every corner of the world of artistic conception.

"It's done!"

The look on his brow revealed the overwhelming joy of a powerful Xiongnu leader.

however.

Upon witnessing this scene, the powerful Hunnic warriors with graying hair contracted their pupils and felt a deep unease rise in their hearts.

because.

That dual-layered world of literary and artistic conception showed no signs of dissipating.

next moment.

A shocking change has occurred.

The moment the scattered thatch landed, towering buildings sprang up, stretching across both banks of the great river.

Inside the pavilion, the faint sounds of scholars talking and laughing could be heard.

Amidst the bustling crowd.

In every building, the figure of that solitary old man stands quietly.

He stood silently, out of place with the bustling surroundings, quietly observing the myriad aspects of life.

"Is this never going to end?!"

Upon witnessing this scene.

The powerful Xiongnu warriors, their eyes blazing with fury, roared with rage that shook the heavens.

Once again wielding his martial arts avatar, he unleashed his giant fist, furiously bombarding the towering buildings before him.

him at the moment.

It's like a world-destroying god or demon in a scene from a fantasy novel.

Wherever it passed, buildings collapsed and everything was destroyed.

But all the struggles were ultimately in vain.

For every building he destroys, ten, a hundred, and endless mansions will spring up in the world.

He himself was unaware of it.

Amidst the endless destruction, the body's once-powerful blood and energy are silently waning.

The burning fighting spirit was slowly worn down by the long and heavy sense of sorrow, and they fell back into the previous predicament.

"Such profound literary skills."

Beneath the vast sky.

The gray-haired, powerful Xiongnu leader sighed in admiration.

But when he glanced at his companions and saw that they were all deeply immersed in various literary and philosophical realms, struggling to move forward and facing perilous situations...

I can no longer remain calm.

"All artistic conceptions are ultimately illusory."

"Once we win you over, all the predicaments will fall apart."

Boom!

The powerful Hunnic warriors, their hair now gray, no longer concealed their strength; their dormant, century-old bloodlust erupted with a thunderous roar.

A violent shockwave, originating from him, swept across the entire desolate landscape.

He was not in a hurry to condense the martial arts Dharma image.

With a flick of the palm.

A demonic blade, curved like a crescent moon, appeared, locking onto Zhang Mu from afar.

"This sword is named 'Slaughter of Han'!"

"Before the earth's veins fell into slumber, I, Ademo, wielded this sword to kill two renowned generals under Emperor Guangwu."

An ancient, weathered voice echoed through heaven and earth, carrying a sense of oppression that transcends the ages.

"today."

"You have every right to be proud of dying by the sword of the Han slaughterer."

In this regard.

Zhang Mu's gaze was calm as he slowly spoke to the gray-haired, powerful Xiongnu man who called himself Adiemo.

"In the past, when Emperor Guangwu was plotting to unify the country and was conquering Western Shu, his generals Generals Xi and Cen Peng were assassinated by agents sent by Gongsun Shu of Baidi."

"Now it seems..."

"Was it because the White Emperor Gongsun Shu secretly colluded with your Xiongnu that two outstanding talents from the Yuntai Academy met their tragic end on the battlefield just as their great cause was about to be accomplished?"

Zhang Mu gazed at Adiemo, whose aura had risen to the late stage of the Martial Phase Realm, and asked him to verify this secret buried deep in the past.

after all.

Of the twenty-eight generals of Yuntai, only these two were assassinated and killed.

"That's right."

Ademo readily admitted it.

But when he spoke of Emperor Guangwu Liu Xiu, his tone was a mixture of admiration and a touch of melancholy.

"If the matter hadn't been exposed, why would I have needed to retreat into the earth's veins and slumber for a hundred years to avoid Guangwu's wrath?"

"pity."

One wrong step leads to another.

"Back then, we bet on Gongsun Shu, hoping that he, who occupied Bashu and had the title of Baidi, could emulate Emperor Gaozu of Han and establish an unparalleled dynasty."

"Who could have predicted that fate would play such a cruel trick on us?"

"The White Emperor!"

Ademo sighed with endless regret and shook his head repeatedly.

"It's just Baidi!"

"In the end, he could not compare to the Crimson Emperor Eleven!"