Ultragene Warlord

The blood that was drawn from Xing Yu's body glowed red, almost as though it were burning. It released a tremendous aura, and each drop of blood was even more resplendent than a ruby.

Howling winds blew as fist and spear clashed once more. The sky rumbled.

The two young cultivators passed each other in the air, shining with radiant light and runes. They turned and faced each other, their arms drawn back.

"He survived one of Xing Yu's punches without dying—only his palms are bloody!" one spectator shouted.

Everyone could see that there was blood on the haft of the spear.

The drops of blood fell. Fang Yi looked down at his palms.

"Blocking one of Xing Yu's blows is impressive enough. His competitor is certainly rather strong himself.

Xing Yu stood firm and unyielding, his thick purple hair floating in the wind. His eyes were like divine lanterns, giving off incredible light. He looked invincible.

"Xing Yu's invincible. No one can defeat him!'' The younger generation of the Stargod race cheered for their strongest challenger.

"The Stargods once dominated over the galaxy, and the ancient blood of our honored ancestors flows through our bodies!"

Many of the Stargods had come to spectate with proud expressions on their faces.

"No. The blood belongs to Xing Yu!" one spectator suddenly shouted.

The others gaped. What? The blood wasn't from Fang Yi?

Everyone was stunned. They froze in shock.

Many were shocked by Xing Yu's strength, thinking that he had managed to draw blood with his initial punch, only to find themselves entirely mistaken.

"Xing Yu's blood?" Many of the spectators gulped, thinking it unbelievable.

The members of Team Zenith smiled confidently. They had witnessed everything clearly. If nothing else, human blood was perfectly ordinary and didn't have special effects associated with it.

Xing Yu stood tall and mighty like a titan of yore. He gave off such tremendous pressure as to make all who saw him hold their breath. His eyes were deep and his sleeves wide, so his hands couldn't be seen.

Meanwhile, his opponent Fang Yi's palms were bright red. Blood dripped down from them, but he didn't seem wounded at all.

The spectators gaped. Had Xing Yu been on the losing end of that first blow? Had he lost to an unknown challenger? No one could believe it.

"This can't be true!" the younger generation of Stargods cried out. They stared at the two combatants.

Was that really the case? In that case, their cheering was premature. What if Xing Yu really were to lose?

The young Stargods suddenly felt a sense of shame and awkwardness.

The spectators from afar made a racket of sound.

"Hm?"

One of the Stargod elders watched on avidly, letting out a deep sigh of relief.

Fang Yi's spear suddenly turned bright red as his two palms, gripping onto the spear, radiated with fiery red light. As he charged forward, that glow spread toward his arms. He was surrounded by divine light, which resonated around him.

"[Hands of the Blood God]!"

The spectators turned hushed. The name of that technique seemed almost overwhelming.

Some of the senior spectators blanched, raising their eyebrows as they all activated their divine sight and observed Xing Yu's elbow. They sucked in a deep breath, their bodies turning cold and goosebumps appearing over their skin.

"What's the matter?" Sun Xiaowu asked.

"It's an infamous vicious technique used by the Stargods. The Hands of the Blood God are a frightening fist technique that drains the opponent of blood, burns up their vitality, and transforms them into a pile of sludge." It was ruthless and widely considered a forbidden technique. Many cultivators in the past had termed this technique the "devil's hands".

Zhang Lie frowned. That these cultivators reacted with such vehemence and fear was a testament as to how frightening the technique was.

"Not all Stargods can comprehend this technique. It's far too difficult for the majority, and a single mistake could well drain the attacker instead."

Few had expected that Xing Yu would be in possession of this forbidden technique. With his own blood, Xing Yu catalyzed the attack.

It had seemed as though Fang Yi had drawn blood from Xing Yu, but Xing Yu had actually gotten hurt deliberately in order to mark Fang Yi's spear and hands.

Fang Yi's arms felt as though they were burning away.

"Open!" Fang Yi shouted, his breath like thunder. Lightning emerged from the void as a howling gale revolved around him. Chaotic energy seeped into his bloodstream through the spear.

Not only did Fang Yi continue holding onto his spear, he defended by counterattacking. His arms trembled as blood surged. His pores glowed with light and sprayed out a cloud of chaotic mist.

Fang Yi had used chaotic energy to resolve the technique, breaking it up and converting it into chaotic energy of his own.

This was a particularly intricate manipulation. Infusing chaotic energy into one's body could easily destroy oneself. It was apparent how bold Fang Yi was, and his growing mastery over the king of chaos' spear.

"Incredible. Even the Hands of the Blood God weren't able to stop him!"

The spectators from the younger generation were shocked, and even some of the older ones widened their eyes.

Countless cultivators had perished to this forbidden technique, many of whom were the strongest cultivators in the galaxy. Some had even perished from it.

The Hands of the Blood God were incredibly difficult to contend with or to resolve, but Xing Yu's opponent had easily done so.

An old cultivator praised, "The younger generation is certainly strong."

"We've fostered them well, it seems."

"The Stargods are an ancient race, after all, and their techniques are outdated. They've been forgotten by history, and they should have stepped away a long time ago."

A few senior Stargod elders shouted with mounting grievance, "Xing Yu, slaughter this nameless upstart on the arena!"

"Xing Yu, what are you doing? Finish off the lad on stage and inform the cultivators of the galaxy that the Stargods are to rise once more! They're not so old that they're destined for a coffin!"

The two young cultivators clashed with each other again like two mountain ridges. The crash echoed through the air.

The two combatants fought rapidly, each transforming into two blurred figures surrounded by divine light. They were so fast that they struck each other dozens of blows within moments.

This shocked everyone in sight. Xing Yu had anticipated winning within ten blows, only to find to his shock that Fang Yi was a stronger opponent than expected.

Many of the spectators' preconceived notions were overturned. The two challengers were both at the apex of their strength. A tremendous battle would unfold, one in which victory wouldn't be obvious.

Xing Yu was rapidly burning through his stamina and quest, with countless killing techniques—a phoenix soaring at one moment, and a roc with its wings outspread. He charged toward the front again.

Xing Yu formed seals with both his hands, shaking the void. One formed a tiger; the other, a dragon. They roared and charged forward in the blink of an eye, straight toward Fang Yi.

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