Chapter 57

This is the second update of the day. I hope you can add this to your favorites. I apologize for the past few days; I've been extremely busy. I won't say more, as saying more would just bring tears.

A fiery red glow continuously emanated from the torch.

It reflected off the smooth stone walls, casting shadows in the cave.

A deep voice sounded, and Yang Qifeng hurriedly looked in the direction of the voice.

It was a towering figure, striding in from outside, clad in golden armor and wearing war boots. Though his appearance was ordinary, he exuded an indomitable aura, holding a weapon that radiated hidden killing intent.

He resembled a great general on the battlefield, awe-inspiring and majestic.

What a formidable general, his ordinary appearance overshadowed by his presence.

Seeing him, Yang Qifeng felt a bit guilty. This person was just what he had been worrying about. He had just been wondering where he had gone, and now he appeared,

standing right in front of him.

"You scoundrel, no matter how cunning you are, you can't escape the divine eyes of this god," Dazheshan God said with a cold smile, looking at Yang Qifeng.

His eyes were icy cold, and he tightly gripped a long spear.

The spear was like a dragon, piercing instantly.

His movements were without hesitation, doubt, or hesitation.

Golden divine light radiated from the spear's tip, blooming like a flower, crackling and transforming into a forest of lightning, sweeping through all directions.

When he moved, it was earth-shattering.

Thunder roared, and the cave echoed with the sound.

Red divine light flashed in his eyes, then vanished.

A scorching heat spread, and the Crow Spear instantly appeared in the air.

It was the epitome of yang energy, embodying the yang forces of heaven and earth!

When the two spears met, a crisp clashing sound rang out.

After the first spear failed, Dazheshan God, without retreating, thrust forward again.

A sharp aura erupted from the spear, sharp, unparalleled, piercing the sky, and shattering the earth.

Yang Qifeng felt the world shrink, the air shattering, leaving him alone to face the destruction, with a spear piercing through heaven and earth aimed at him.

He had nowhere to hide, nowhere to run, the world seemed to disappear.

Indeed, a seasoned veteran, though suppressed for countless years and stripped of his divine status, his true strength was still a small rank below Yang Qifeng, maintaining only the power of an initial-stage Primordial Spirit. Yet, he still created a crushing situation.

These old fellows cannot be underestimated.

Yang Qifeng felt a sense of powerlessness. It seemed he must cultivate the Six Great Techniques of the Golden Crow; he couldn't delay any longer.

His eyes turned fiery red, and with a fierce resolve, he bit his tongue, spitting out a mouthful of blood.

He spat out a blood mist and whispered, "Eight Trigram Immortal Furnace!"

"Come forth!"

In the void, a massive shadow appeared.

Fish ears, drum nails, lotus petals, and three legs!

It was clearly a pill furnace, with a roaring fire burning inside.

Poppopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopopop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