Chapter 725: Shattered Barriers and the Battle for the Floating-Land

Even a hastily formed barrier could rival the toughest defenses. At least, for anyone weaker than the realm of myth, it was more than enough.

The blood barrier, crackling with dark godly power, met the piercing force from the Floating-Land Shield in a violent clash. Ripples pulsed wildly where the two collided, as if the very air protested their contact.

As the defining legacy of the Eight-Armed Serpent Demon clan, the force unleashed by the Riftsunder Scepter was nothing short of extraordinary. The Bloodspawn’s bloody shield wasn’t weak by any means, but after a tense standoff, it was suddenly torn apart.

The riftsunder force carved through everything in its path and struck straight into the Bloodspawn’s bloated body.

Inside the Floating-Land Shield, the nine Ninth-Tier Eight-Armed Serpent Demons broke into relieved grins at the sight. Above them, the scepter’s ghostly projection began to tremble even harder.

The more the scepter’s image shook, the more violently blood energy surged around the Bloodspawn. It was like something uncontrollable was about to rip its way out from inside.

Suddenly, a torrent of void energy burst from its body, shredding the space behind it. A massive spatial rift yawned open right at its back.

As time ticked by, the rift’s diameter kept expanding, soon dwarfing the Bloodspawn itself. No matter how it struggled, the void energy pouring from within was determined to drag it into the gaping wound behind it.

At a distance, high-tier Torch Battleships unleashed barrages aimed right at the rim of the rift, trying to halt its relentless spread. But if even the Bloodspawn couldn’t influence this spatial tear, how could ordinary firepower ever destroy it?

In a handful of heartbeats, nearly half of the Bloodspawn’s grotesque form had been swallowed by the rift.

Seeing the power of the Riftsunder Scepter firsthand, the Eight-Armed Serpent Demons within the shield were all satisfaction. They didn’t waste the moment and pressed the attack.

Even though it was nearly impossible to reverse the Bloodspawn’s exile, these serpent demons understood the Torch Civilization too well. The Torch Captains always found bizarre tricks. What seemed certain now might not stay that way until the end.

So before the Bloodspawn was fully banished, they did all they could to stop the Torch Captains from interfering.

In fact, the three Superdimensional Captains reacted even quicker.

The instant the alien void energy flared around the Bloodspawn, Pei Dinan Akleimon, its summoner, didn’t hesitate for a second.

“Now!”

His two companions immediately understood and acted without delay.

Within the command center of the Shensia Jiuli, the lead Superdimensional Mothership of the trio, Jiang Emperor—the Torch Civilization’s foremost figure—locked eyes on a specific module.

A deep galaxy glinted in his gaze, stars hanging in cosmic silence. It was as if an entire universe evolved in the movement of his eyes.

When his focus shifted to a radiant, multicolored component on the Jiuli, the part suddenly awoke, shimmering with fivefold brilliance.

“Void-Reflecting Divine Mirror”—Mythic Reflection!

As this high-grade module activated, a ray of rainbow light shot outward from the Jiuli.

Near the shield of Demon God Floating-Land, as the spatial tear finally devoured the Bloodspawn, the unknown rift abruptly stopped widening and started shrinking with alarming speed.

Even when waves of blood power seeped from the rift’s depths, it couldn’t withstand the force closing it, only slowing its contraction a little.

Right before the tear sealed, that rainbow shot from the Jiuli and pierced deep inside—instantly, the rift vanished, perfectly healed.

In the private comms channel of the three motherships, Jiang Emperor offered a small nod. Pei Dinan Akleimon let out a long breath, then withdrew his summoning to the Pantheon Tableau.

The Pantheon Tableau was impossibly strong, sealing eight myth-tier beings on its own. But calling forth one of its gods to fight required Pei Dinan Akleimon to bear the entire cost alone.

He might be one of the Four Human Sovereigns and wield strength close to the edge of myth, but he was still mortal. Channeling a god’s backlash through a human body—one didn’t need imagination to guess how deadly that was.

Jiang Emperor’s nod meant he could finally end the Bloodspawn’s summoning.

Above Heaven’s Holy Radiance, the Pantheon Tableau’s rainbow image slowly faded. Without its support—even after the spatial wound closed—the void still trembled, trembling under the relentless struggling of the banished Bloodspawn.

A myth-tier being wouldn’t surrender even to equal powers. Given time, it could break free from its exile.

But with Pei Dinan’s summoning cut off, the Bloodspawn lost all support, unraveling for good. The threat disappeared completely.

Yet as the captains around exchanged puzzled glances, another faint ripple spread across the stars.

When Song Chi shifted his dual-colored gaze, he discovered, without a sound, a second blood-colored figure now hovered among the stars.

A flat, monstrous head.

Bulbous, bloated body.

Tentacles dripping in red.

At first glance, it looked just like the earlier Bloodspawn. But through the probing of a seventh-tier Dual Pupils, Song Chi caught an unmistakable difference.

Compared to before, this one’s power was just as frightening, but it felt hollow. There was nothing real or alive inside.

Where the former Bloodspawn still bore the traits of a living monster, this new “Bloodspawn” was nothing but an empty shell.

“A clone? A reflection? Or maybe a puppet?”

No one knew what Song Chi was thinking. Some captains sensed something odd, but their focus was quickly stolen by the unfolding events.

Only a handful realized the truth: this Bloodspawn had already been switched, and now its control rested in Jiang Emperor’s hands.

Without the crushing pressure Pei Dinan Akleimon had faced, Jiang Emperor manipulated it with easy, casual grace.

That’s the difference between using your own flesh as a summoning anchor and using Torch components as the control medium.

With a Torch Battleship serving as its carrier, this mirrored Bloodspawn put no strain on the Jiuli or Jiang Emperor at all.

Back at the Demon God Floating-Land Shield, the mirrored Bloodspawn attacked the same weak spot as before.

This time, without any void-exile tactics holding it back, the mirrored Bloodspawn punched a small rift straight through the Demon God Floating-Land Shield.

With this copy lending its strength, the three motherships, dozens of Star River-class ships, and over ten thousand Star-Annihilators surged into the heart of the Demon God Floating-Land.

Now that the evil shield was down, the Torch fleet could finally strike at the Eight-Armed Serpent Demons inside—war erupted in an instant.

Under the Floating-Land Sky Vault, hidden in the corner of a fleet sneaking through the shield, the Heavenly Ruin quietly hovered in disguise.

Song Chi didn’t rush. No matter how he looked at it, the Eight-Armed side—with ten ninth-tier fighters and the raw will of the land itself—held all the cards.

Just considering their peak combat power, Song Chi could see the world of difference between both sides.

They’d brought ten ninth-tier fighters, all fueled by the will of the Demon God Floating-Land. On their side? Just three Superdimensional Motherships.

Even if the three Human Sovereigns’ motherships were terrifying, each able to face two or even three ninth-tiers at once, the serpent demons still had one more to spare.

And this was no ordinary ninth-tier dominator—this one was practically at the absolute peak, the floating-land’s power boosting it into a super unit capable of changing the entire war.

And as for their own Star River-class captains?

The other side had over a hundred Eighth-Tier Eight-Armed Serpent Demons. At least five, with the floating-land’s blessing, were already ninth-tier. Their own captains could barely keep up—there was no way to tie down a peak dominator as well.

The more Song Chi thought about it, the worse the odds looked. So at his suggestion, the Song family held back.

But clearly, he’d underestimated the Human Sovereigns. If they’d brought a civilization’s elite across billions of light-years, these three weren’t about to make such rookie mistakes.

The three motherships led the charge into the Floating-Land, their hulls beginning to shimmer. Space warped in rippling waves.

“Are they calling their warship clones?”

Song Chi and his three companions exchanged glances, immediately coming to the same conclusion—they’d moved ships like this before, after all.

Realization dawned on all four at once.

Maybe they’d gotten too close to the problem. Nobody had considered the simplest answer.

High-grade ship replication modules were rare, true. But if anyone would have one—or several—it’d be the highest ranks of Torch civilization. Their three motherships held all the best relics the civilization commanded. Ordinary captains might go without, but these flagships? Never.

Even more impressive, each mothership didn’t just have one replication module—but at least two. Through waves of spatial distortion, two copies for every mothership materialized around them.

Six Superdimensional Mothership clones—plus the three originals—now hovered together over the Demon God Floating-Land.

The three originals dove first, each intercepting two ninth-tier serpent dominators. Four more of the clones rushed to tie down the remaining dominators, while the last two swerved off toward the hard-fought Eighth-Tier battlefield.

Reinforcements arrived just in time. Two clone motherships instantly eased the strain on more than thirty Star River-class ships. To stop them, the Eight-Armed Serpent Demons sent out over forty Eighth-Tiers.

At last, the top-tier battlefield was more or less balanced.

Seeing this, Song Chi no longer hesitated. With a nod to Song Wujian and the other two, the four Song family Star-Annihilators summoned their own warship clones.

Unlike those waiting for the bulk of the Torch fleet to catch up, the four clones set off immediately, charging straight for the heart of the Eighth-Tier battle.

Song Chi knew all too well—if the Song family wanted a real part of the mythic relic spoils, they couldn’t play nice. Only hunting down Eighth-Tier Serpent Dominators would make a difference—seven-tiers weren’t enough.

As they flew, golden threads—the chains of Law—sparkled across the ships. The replicated Four Symbols Rotating Sigil module was linking up.

Once the modules fully activated, each clone ship blazed with spirit beast illusions, their auras rising by more than a notch.

And they weren’t done. The replicated Mermaid Queen’s Blessing activated too, Deep Sea Link ramping up combat power, firepower, defense, and speed—doubling everything.

At the edge of the Eighth-Tier battlefield, on one Star River-class ship facing two Eighth-Tier Serpent Dominators—

Sixteen phantom arms, conjured by their Serpent Demon Avatar skills, hammered down. The Star River’s hull was battered back millions of kilometers, its shield and armor both cracking under the onslaught.

Right then, a comm request pinged in the ship’s control room.

The Star River-class captain from the Oke Dynasty accepted at once. He’d already sensed four Star-Annihilator-class ships racing in. He didn’t dare hope for much, but with the battle this dire, better to try than go down without a fight.

As soon as the line opened, Song Chi’s message came through.

“Lord Dylan, can you lock down that left-side Eighth-Tier Serpent Dominator for just two seconds? I’m Song Chi, a Beidou Sevenstar Hall member and the Xian Qin’s King Qiongyu. Will you give it a try?”

Dylan Oke hesitated, but quickly caught the three most important words in Song Chi’s introduction.

“King Qiongyu.”

As the Clan Elder of the Oke Dynasty—one of four ruling houses under the Xian Qin Divine Dynasty—he’d spent his life as a Star-Annihilator captain and always followed the Xian Qin’s rankings.

Someone who’d broken into the King Ranking at number 39—King Qiongyu—he remembered that achievement well. He knew just how much that ranking meant.

So there was no hesitation. Dylan Oke nodded hard.

“Understood!”

The moment he spoke, darkness surged in the Star River’s hull. A bleached bone chain snapped from the void, wrapping the left serpent dominator tight. No matter how it fought, the bone chain held fast, rattling ominously as it refused to break.

Seizing the chance, the four Song Star-Annihilator clones—all fully charged—unleashed their main cannons.

Three black Star-Annihilator Cannons and one golden Star-Annihilator Cannon poured firepower into the trapped demon. With the added boost of Song Chi’s God of the Hunt’s Weakpoint Mark, the barrage’s power went beyond imagination.

The Eighth-Tier Serpent Dominator’s body erupted in explosions, torrents of blood spraying. In the end, a micro black hole bloomed right against it.

And yet, despite the devastation, the dominator endured. With the floating-land’s will strengthening its body to the very limit, it somehow weathered the assault.

Seeing this, Song Chi—already back on the Heavenly Ruin—had to return in a hurry to the mirrored warship.

His entire goal was to hunt down the Eighth-Tier Serpent Dominators. There was no way he’d leave the job unfinished.

He didn’t know the Oke Dynasty captain well, so his choice was immediate—no hesitation.

Back aboard the mirrored ship, a glow lit up at his brow. In the next heartbeat, tricolored light gathered atop the ship’s hull.

Hisssss!

With a roar, the three-colored phantom of the Heaven-Devouring Python burst forth, howling straight at the battered serpent dominator.

Now that the Dragon-Spine Continent counted as an Eighth-Level Floating-land, the Shedding of the Heaven-Devouring Python could unleash nearly eighty percent of its power. The fate of the worn-down dominator was sealed—the scion finally fell, life draining away.

With that, Song Chi and friends wasted no time moving on.

If they’d kept pressing the other Eighth-Tier dominator, the Oke Dynasty captain might’ve objected.

Helping a one-on-two fight was rescue—but if they kept going, it’d look like kill-stealing.

No point arguing with so many dominators left—pick a new target.

Song Chi’s four Star-Annihilator clones swept through the battlefield, sharing the pressure with allied captains while hunting Eighth-Tier dominators for themselves.

The same approach held, but every takedown played out differently.

After all, the clones weren’t all-powerful—each Star-Annihilator Cannon needed time to cool down. Even with buffs like the Four Symbols Rotating Sigil and Mermaid Queen’s Blessing, every fight was a grind.

Eighth-Tiers weren’t pushovers. Even if they just stood there and took fire, without tricks or trump cards it’d be hard to finish the job—never mind when the floating-land’s will fought to defend them, raising the stakes higher.

In the end, Song Chi and his companions had to use every last trump card to force a victory.

Neutron-Star Fission from the Neutron-Star Core Armor; the temporary evolution into Gamma Ray Burst.

The Black Hole Fission on the Scorching Sea Blazer with its Black Hole Armor.

Star Annihilator’s Wrath from the Unmoving Vajra.

Sometimes the final blast landed with the Clan Elders, but the merit could be reassigned to Song Chi. No worries there.