Different from the tragic scenes out there where cultivators perished with their souls scattered and their bodies leaving no trace behind.
This battle, bound by the rules of the Heavenly Prison Order, eliminated all destructive energy, and the bodies of all the fallen gods were perfectly preserved.
Their bones and muscles were intact, their flesh undamaged, but their life force had been completely extinguished. They lay quietly on the blood-red ground, densely packed and boundless, covering the entire view.
All the divine cultivators who survived were seriously injured.
They suffered broken bones and tendons in their hands and feet, fell to the ground and were unable to get up, or had torn flesh in their chests and stomachs, with profuse bleeding.
They might suffer a severe head injury and become delirious or confused, or all the meridians and muscles in their body might be damaged, rendering them completely incapable of even raising an arm to fight.
Countless holy warriors lay piled up in pools of blood, their groans, sighs, and cries of pain echoing every now and then.
The elites of the divine race, who once dominated the twenty-four heavens and looked down on all races, had now been reduced to seriously injured captives without the power to fight back, looking extremely pitiful and extremely humiliated.
The eight ninth rank gods who were once highly respected in this world had now completely lost their former supreme majesty.
Some people had collapsed sternums and displaced internal organs, their damaged bodies barely able to support their shattered forms;
Some people had broken bones and fell to the ground, their eyes empty and lifeless, filled with endless despair and sadness.
Some people had festering wounds all over their bodies and dislocated bones, and every breath they took was so painful, that they didn’t have the strength to even scream.
Their divine bodies, honed through a lifetime of cultivation, proved extremely fragile in the face of the dragon race’s unrivaled physical strength. Millions of years of cultivation and superior realms made them the butt of ridicule in this mortal-style death fight.
The most tragic figure is none other than God Chenyao.
His arm was completely destroyed, its tendons and blood vessels severed, and his arm lay limp at his side, completely disfigured.
His chest and stomach were covered in bruises of varying depths from the blows, several major bones were broken and dislocated, his internal organs were badly damaged, his blood and qi were churning, and every breath was accompanied by excruciating pain.
David’s two deadly blows just now almost destroyed his physical foundation, turning the supreme god who had ruled the Twenty-Four Heavens for half his life and dominated a region into a cripple who was seriously injured, dying, and unable to move.
He lay on his side, barely able to stand upright, on the cold, blood-stained stone of the prison. His body was covered in dust and dark red bloodstains. His purple-gold divine robe had been torn to pieces in the close combat, and he no longer had the slightest bit of divine authority.
Those eyes, which once looked down on all races with boundless killing intent, were now crimson red, filled with immense hatred, extreme humiliation, and despair that seeped into the marrow of one’s bones.
FAQ Novel
Q: What happens to Lord Chenyao?
A: Lord Chenyao’s arm is severely injured, and he is sent flying back.
Q: How is the battle being fought?
A: The battle has devolved into a brutal physical confrontation, with no use of cultivation techniques or grand Dao powers.
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