Chapter 73: A Ruthless Beating (Part Two)

“Have you tapped into your source power?”

Feng Shang let out a cold laugh. His fist, wreathed in light, fell hard, shaking the very fabric of the void. Each wild, brutal punch battered the Scarlet Star Flood Dragon’s shadow until its colors dulled and its aura waned. Yet the fierce light in its eyes only burned brighter, refusing to retreat, still entangled in the fight—truly one of the most savage of the ancient star beasts.

Upon the Elder Crane’s fingertip, a strand of bright, crystalline, pure radiance gathered—a sliver of origin power from the Lord of Light. Though minuscule, its presence felt almost miraculous. This was the most precious insight of a cultivator at the Realm of Light: in ordinary circumstances, none would part with such a thing.

“With sacrifice comes gain. Though I relinquish this now, I will surely reclaim it,” the Elder Crane murmured, hesitating only briefly before gritting his teeth and flicking that priceless strand of radiance into the body of the Thousand-Handed Sorrow Lord, whose form was close to shattering beneath sharp blades.

Whether driven by pride or profit, he had no choice but to use this light.

“Oh? I think you’ll end up empty-handed,” Feng Shang sneered, the radiance swirling about him in cycles of blinding brilliance, making him seem like a child of the gods. His azure eyes shimmered with light as he observed the Elder Crane’s struggle with amused detachment, making no move to interfere.

“Foolish boy, now that I’ve used the light, there is no longer any doubt about today’s outcome!” The Elder Crane stood upon the Sorrow Lord’s head, hands clasped behind his back, his silver hair and flowing robes billowing in the cosmic wind as he faced Feng Shang, pride once more swelling in his voice.

A low hum filled the air, and soon a vast, overwhelming aura surged forth.

The sharp blade gleamed and vibrated at a high frequency.

The Thousand-Handed Sorrow Lord, who had been on the verge of collapse, was restored and reconstituted under the blessing of the light. His kindly, serene face radiated endless benevolence, as if deities across the heavens bowed to him, exuding boundless compassion.

This divine art was now pushed to its utmost limit, radiating the power of law.

At that moment, a faint, ghostly light flickered on the back of Feng Shang’s hand.

“Should I step in?” came the voice of Azure Sky Calamity. “The power of creation from nothing is ill-suited for combat. This old man has reached the second tier of the Realm of Light, and is willing to burn his own radiance—he’s no weakling.”

“Uncle Calamity, there’s no need for you this time. If this eccentric old man is frightened off all at once, it won’t be any fun. I want to beat the arrogance out of him, little by little.”

A cold, malicious smile flashed in Feng Shang’s eyes. With a surge of energy, he suddenly produced sixty-four ancient white array banners, each adorned with nine unique calamity runes.

Upon them were the Ways of Thunder, Void, Slaughter, Destruction… A murderous aura radiated from them; clearly, these were no ordinary things.

“These Ninefold Calamity Prison Banners will be enough to have him running in circles,” Azure Sky Calamity fell silent, choosing not to intervene. If Feng Shang wished to treat this as a mere diversion, then so be it.

“Still not retreating?” the Elder Crane called coldly, standing atop the Sorrow Lord’s head, hands behind his back, his gaze fixed on the brilliant blade held at bay by the Thousand Hands.

The Sorrow Lord opened his eyes. A myriad of radiant hands erupted with ten-thousandfold brilliance, divine runes filling the sky, thundering their wrath across the cosmos.

The sharp blade rang with metallic clangor, struggling to resist. But the power of the Thousand Hands was now incomparable, capable of extinguishing stars with a single strike.

With a clang, the sharp blade was knocked away, spinning at great speed. Yet instead of flying off endlessly, it soon dissolved into radiant energy of creation from nothing and returned to Feng Shang’s side.

The Elder Crane regarded Feng Shang coldly.

“Your blade is no threat to me now. You should be proud I spent even a strand of my radiance on you. Leave your Star-Forged Treasure here—I'll see to its use.”

“Are you done?” Feng Shang interrupted, raising the sixty-four white banners. “See these? In a moment they’ll have you in tears. Don’t bother begging for mercy then.”

“What’s this…” The Elder Crane’s eyes narrowed in suspicion. Looking closer, he couldn’t help but gasp.

These sixty-four banners flowed with the power of various calamities. Forged from sacred wood and heavenly silk, they were clearly extraordinary.

He studied Feng Shang for a long moment, then all wariness faded, replaced by a mocking laugh: “Regardless of your banners’ grade, do you really think you can set up such a formation under my very nose? Utterly laughable!”

He laughed more and more brazenly, his wrinkled face blooming into a radiant old chrysanthemum. The more he thought about it, the funnier it was—at the height of battle, this lad took out a set of formation banners? When would he have time to arrange them?

If they’d been planted in advance, he’d have nothing to say—he might even fall for it. But to produce them now—did this boy not take him seriously at all?

“I’m just curious—why do you act like such a clown? You think I need to care about you to set up a formation?” Feng Shang scoffed, frowning as he gripped the sixty-four banners and merged into the void, vanishing instantly without so much as a ripple.

“Where… where did he go?!”

The Elder Crane was startled out of his wits, his senses sweeping every corner, only to find—to his shock—not a single trace of Feng Shang remained.

He had vanished as if into thin air.

A cold chill swept through the Elder Crane. Panic seized him, for he could not fathom how this was possible. Whether through teleportation or entering the shadowy dimensions of the cosmos, traces should have been left behind.

But this youth had broken the laws of nature!

Far, far away, Feng Shang stepped calmly from the void, planting a white banner with casual ease. Then he vanished again, only to reappear elsewhere, repeating the process. In a few breaths, all the Ninefold Calamity Prison Banners were set in place.

“How did you do this?” The Elder Crane’s heart pounded, a sense of unease growing. Such eerie, flawless merging with the void, leaving no trace—was this something a boy could do?

“Why should I explain?” Feng Shang replied coolly. Not even the Nine-tailed Cosmic Spirit in the Black Prison could detect this divine technique, let alone a mere Lord of Light.

That was why Feng Shang was so irritated: someone vastly weaker than himself, acting superior and arrogant before him—anyone would find it intolerable.

Soon, the Ninefold Calamity Prison was complete. Feng Shang clapped his hands, and from the space of creation countless crystal-clear cosmic crystals poured forth like a river, surging toward the sixty-four banners.

“Enjoy yourself,” Feng Shang said, soaring into the starry sky and gazing down from above. The entire surrounding star region was now encircled by his formation.

“You think you can trap me?” The Elder Crane, sensing grave danger, tried to keep his composure, forcing a laugh as he strode forward, intent on leaving the encircled region.

But no sooner had he taken a step than a golden bolt of calamity thunder descended from above, too swift to evade. It tore open a hundred thousand fathoms of void, striking directly at his crown.

This was no ordinary lightning, but infused with the laws of thunder—most effective against the immortal light body. It exploded atop Crane Xuan’s head in a blaze of golden light, wild and violent, engulfing him. His face blackened instantly, hair falling in singed clumps, the acrid stench of burning filling the air.