280: Chapter 280 The Power of the Ancestral Tower

The Ancestral Tower stirred.

That ancient giant tower, which had suppressed the fortune of the Ancient Floating Pagoda Clan for tens of thousands of years, slowly rose under the activation of Budu Xuan.

The tower stood ten thousand zhang tall, its entire body a dark gold, with every level engraved with dense ancient spirit runes; between the spirit runes, the names of the ancestors of the Ancient Floating Pagoda Clan could be faintly seen circulating within the golden light.

Each of the seventy-two levels of the tower corresponded to the will of a generation of ancestors of the Ancient Floating Pagoda Clan.

These wills had slumbered in the Ancestral Tower for who knows how many tens of thousands of years, and now, forcibly awakened by Budu Xuan in the name of the current Great Elder, they transformed into seventy-two golden chains that erupted from all sides of the tower, locking the entire Elder Court plaza into a cage.

On the plaza, the obsidian ground was shattered into countless bottomless cracks by the residual power of the chains.

The spirit formations on the seventy-two floating islands simultaneously emitted ear-piercing shrieks as spiritual energy poured back into the Ancestral Tower, pushing the golden light on the tower to its limit.

Disciples with cultivation below the Heavenly Supreme level were already kneeling on the ground, unable to even lift their heads.

Even elders at the Spirit Grade Heavenly Supreme level could only barely struggle to keep from being crushed to the ground by that pressure.

Qing Yanjing looked up at the giant tower that had suppressed the entire Ancient Floating Pagoda Clan for tens of thousands of years; her moon-white dress was pressed tightly against her body by the pressure of the Ancestral Tower, outlining her slender and upright figure.

The golden branch-like headpiece trembled violently in the golden light, and her jet-black hair was blown backward by the air waves.

Her complexion was paler than before—her battle with Budu Xuan had already consumed a great deal, and now the pressure of the Ancestral Tower weighed on her shoulders like a ten-thousand-ton mountain, making her chest groan under the strain with every breath.

But she still stood straight.

The speed at which her hands formed seals in front of her chest was even faster than before, and as her ten fingers flew, dozens of Saint Grade spirit runes surged from her fingertips like swimming fish, laying down layer after layer of spirit formation barriers around her.

Those spirit formation barriers were layered one upon another, protecting her and Mu Chen within.

However, every time the seventy-two golden chains of the Ancestral Tower struck the barriers, several layers of spirit formations would collapse simultaneously, with fragments of spirit runes scattering across the sky.

Her reconstruction speed was fast, but the chains of the Ancestral Tower were faster.

The seventy-two chains struck alternately from different directions, each blow carrying the residual will of ancient Saint Grade powerhouses; the spirit formation barriers shattered layer by layer under the bombardment of the chains, and it looked like they were about to be breached.

"Stubborn and unyielding." Budu Xuan stood directly beneath the Ancestral Tower, his hands holding up the control seals of the Ancestral Tower, his silver hair and white beard swirling in the golden light.

His posture at this moment was like a god acting on behalf of heaven to mete out punishment, his aged face looking exceptionally majestic and cold under the reflection of the golden light. "Qing Yanjing, the Ancestral Tower is the condensation of the will of the ancestors of the Ancient Floating Pagoda Clan throughout the ages. How long can you hold out on your own? Surrender now, and considering that you are the former Saintess, I might be able to deal with you leniently."

Qing Yanjing did not answer, only increasing the speed of her hand seals a little more.

Fine beads of sweat had seeped from her temples, sliding down her fair cheeks and dripping onto the collar of her moon-white dress, staining a small patch of dark water.

More than a decade of imprisonment had made her tougher than she was back then, but it also meant her spiritual energy reserves were far from her peak.

Every round of bombardment from the Ancestral Tower's pressure consumed her already limited spiritual energy, and the spirit formation barriers behind her had already shattered by seventy percent.

But she could not retreat—Mu Chen was right behind her.

Just at this moment, a golden sword light soared into the sky from behind her.

Mu Chen held the heavenly emperor sword, standing by his mother's side, pushing the golden light of the heavenly emperor sword to its limit to confront the dark golden light of the Ancestral Tower head-on.

The power of a Saint Grade peerless holy artifact was indeed remarkable; when the golden sword light of the heavenly emperor sword collided with the chains of the Ancestral Tower, it produced a harsh metallic screeching sound, and the sword edge forcibly shattered two chains that were smashing down overhead.

But this was only the beginning.

The seventy-second level of the Ancestral Tower—the highest and most ancient level—suddenly lit up with a golden beam of light capable of piercing heaven and earth. The seventy-two chains re-condensed like living creatures, becoming thicker and more ferocious than before, all smashing toward Mu Chen.

The seventy-two chains struck down alternately from different angles. Mu Chen used the heavenly emperor sword to block the first few, and his minor achievement in the Law of Space allowed him to barely track the trajectories of the chains. However, his spiritual energy reserves were far inferior to a Saint-Rank Heavenly Sovereign, and every time a chain smashed onto the heavenly emperor sword, he felt the bones in his arms groaning.

Qing Yanjing forcibly poured the last of her spiritual energy into the spirit formations, and dozens of Saint Grade spirit runes transformed into an indestructible golden barrier, blocking in front of Mu Chen to share some of the pressure for him.

Most of the chains were blocked by her spirit formation barrier, but three chains still bypassed her defense from different directions, smashing toward Mu Chen simultaneously like three venomous snakes.

Mu Chen held his sword horizontally to block; the heavenly emperor sword shattered two of them, but the third one smashed in from a blind spot behind him, and he had no time to defend.

The chain smashed heavily onto his back; his protective spiritual energy was violently shaken, and he was blasted away, crashing into and shattering an obsidian pillar as thick as a man's embrace at the edge of the plaza.

Amidst the flying gravel, he knelt on one knee, using the heavenly emperor sword to support his body on the ground, a trickle of golden blood spilling from the corner of his mouth.

"Chen'er!" Qing Yanjing's pupils contracted sharply.

She subconsciously wanted to rush over, but the pressure of the Ancestral Tower suddenly intensified several times at this moment, and the seventy-two chains pressed down simultaneously, completely crushing the spirit formations around her.

She let out a muffled groan, her figure swaying slightly, but she forced herself to steady, still reaching out a hand toward Mu Chen, her fingertips rapidly drawing several spirit runes in the void to lay down a protective formation in front of Mu Chen.

She was a mother—a mother who would never, under any circumstances or in any situation, abandon her child.

Mu Chen stood up shakily from the pile of rubble, wiping the blood from the corner of his mouth with the back of his hand.

On his back, a charred wound had been whipped by the chain; where his clothes were torn, split flesh was revealed, and golden blood flowed down his spine.

He was panting heavily; every breath felt as painful as if his lungs had been scorched by fire.

But he still stood up, gripping the heavenly emperor sword tightly again, its blade pointing directly at Budu Xuan.

"I haven't fallen yet." His voice was hoarse and stubborn. "Old thing, come again."

Budu Xuan sneered and suddenly pressed his right hand downward; the Ancestral Tower once again descended dozens of chains, even more ferocious than before, tearing even space itself into pitch-black cracks at the edges of the chains.

Mu Chen was blasted away again; this time he broke three stone pillars at the edge of the plaza before stopping his momentum. Rubble buried half his body, and the wound on his back was deep enough to see bone, his golden blood soaking half his robe.

Qing Yanjing gritted her teeth and no longer distracted herself with defense.

Her eyes were startlingly bright in the golden light of the Ancestral Tower, and a nearly insane gleam ignited deep within her eyes—the look a mother beast has when forced to a dead end.

She no longer held back, no longer cared about ancestral will or clan rules and regulations, releasing the last of her spiritual energy remaining in her body after being sealed for more than a decade without reservation.

Her hands formed an ancient and complex seal in front of her chest, and simultaneously, three hundred and sixty Saint Grade spirit formations lit up around her.

The wind stopped at that moment.

The spirit formations on the seventy-two floating islands simultaneously emitted a mournful cry, and the golden light of the Ancestral Tower was forcibly pushed back several zhang by the energy she unleashed.

Three hundred and sixty spirit formations operated simultaneously; that was the limit of a Saint Grade Spirit Formation Grandmaster—and it was the strongest strike Qing Yanjing had exchanged for by burning her own essence blood.

She was fighting against the will of the Ancestral Tower, fighting against all the ancestral wills of the Ancient Floating Pagoda Clan from tens of thousands of years ago simultaneously.

Her moon-white dress fluttered wildly in the gale, her long hair flying like a flag, but her complexion grew whiter and whiter, white to the point of being almost transparent.

Under her skin, fine spirit runes could be faintly seen moving; that was the external manifestation of burning essence blood.

For the first time, Budu Xuan's eyes revealed genuine shock.

The Ancestral Tower had actually been pushed back several zhang by her alone—although it was only several zhang, no one had ever achieved this in tens of thousands of years.

The seventy-two chains were simultaneously held off by the power of the three hundred and sixty spirit formations; the golden chains trembled violently under the impact of the spirit formations, and some of the chains even began to show fine cracks on their surfaces.

But after the shock, what emerged in his eyes was not admiration, not fear, but an even colder killing intent.

This woman must not be allowed to live.

Being imprisoned for more than a decade and still being able to unleash such terrifying power—if she were allowed to return to her peak, who else in the Ancient Floating Pagoda Clan could suppress her?

He bit the tip of his tongue and spat out a mouthful of essence blood onto the body of the Ancestral Tower, his hands forming seals to push the Ancestral Tower to its limit.

The golden light on the seventy-second level of the tower suddenly surged, the seventy-two chains hummed simultaneously, and the power more than doubled compared to before.

Under the bombardment of the chains, the three hundred and sixty spirit formations began to collapse layer by layer—not one by one, but dozens by dozens simultaneously, with fragments of spirit runes pouring down like a rainstorm.

Qing Yanjing's figure finally could not support itself, and she knelt on one knee.

A mouthful of fresh blood sprayed onto the shattered white jade floor tiles, staining those broken spirit runes a pale gold.

Her hands were still forming seals, her fingertips still moving rapidly in the void, but there was not much spiritual energy she could mobilize—not that she didn't want to, but her meridians and dantian, which had been sealed for more than a decade, were now completely drained.

The spirit formations she had barely managed to lay down were as fragile as paper in front of the chains, being torn apart one after another.

She could feel the golden light of the Ancestral Tower like countless needles simultaneously piercing into her meridians, sealing her spiritual energy and suppressing her soul.

The seventy-two chains pressed down simultaneously like a net of heaven and earth, shrouding her entire person in golden light.

She struggled to lift her head, her gaze passing over the layers of chains, landing on the seventy-second level of the Ancestral Tower—the name of the first ancestor of the Ancient Floating Pagoda Clan was engraved there.

She looked at that name, her lips moving slightly as if wanting to say something, but in the end, she only gritted her teeth, transforming the last wisp of spiritual energy into an extremely thin spirit formation to protect Mu Chen.

"Chen'er... retreat." Her voice was hoarse and weak, but there was not a hint of submission in those phoenix eyes.

Budu Xuan watched all this with cold eyes and suddenly pressed his hands downward.

The seventy-two chains tightened simultaneously, and the golden light of the Ancestral Tower transformed into a golden giant palm that blotted out the sky, pressing down from ten thousand zhang in the air toward Qing Yanjing.

The plaza floor was pressed into a huge depression several hundred zhang in circumference by the palm wind, and the seventy-two obsidian pillars were all snapped in the middle.

Mu Chen struggled to crawl out from the pile of rubble; the wound on his back tore deeper, and golden blood flowed along his arm to the sword hilt, then dripped down the blade onto the shattered stone floor.

He gritted his teeth and stood up, raising the heavenly emperor sword once again, its blade pointing directly at the golden giant palm descending from the sky, his eyes blood-red.

He had to block it, even if he knew his strength was as insignificant as dust before the Ancestral Tower.

He could not watch his mother be suppressed, just as she could not watch her newborn son be taken away back then.

The heavenly emperor sword sensed the determination in his heart, and the golden sword patterns on the blade suddenly lit up to an unprecedented degree, emitting a clear and resonant sword hum, as if the will of the heavenly emperor had awakened within the sword, resonating with him.

He took a step, then another.

The golden phantom of the Primordial Celestial Body appeared behind him, intertwining with the light of the heavenly emperor sword.

Then he used all his strength to swing the sword.

The golden sword light soared into the sky, colliding with the sky-covering giant palm.

The sword light slashed several zhang into the giant palm, tearing a crack in the edge of the giant palm—but the crack was instantly filled by the subsequent golden light, and the suppressing momentum of the giant palm only paused for a moment before continuing to press down with a roar.

Mu Chen was blasted away, spitting blood wildly from the counter-shock force, and slammed heavily onto the stone floor in front of Qing Yanjing.

The heavenly emperor sword slipped from his hand, rolling between the shattered white jade floor tiles, the golden light on the blade slowly dimming.

"Overestimating your own strength." Budu Xuan sneered.

The giant palm pressed down again; this time there was no resistance.

Qing Yanjing closed her eyes, a faint smile appearing on the corner of her lips.

She was waiting, waiting for that golden light to crush her flesh and blood.

She had waited for so many years—waiting for her son to grow up, waiting for her son to come to save her, waiting for a direct confrontation with Budu Xuan, waiting to use her own strength to contend with the Ancestral Tower.

She had done everything she could, and if this was the end, she accepted it.

It was just a pity—a pity that she hadn't had the chance to meet Mu Chen's master, hadn't had the chance to say thank you to him in person, hadn't had the chance to see with her own eyes what the man who had protected her son behind him was like.

Mu Chen lay on the ground, covered in blood, his fingers still reaching toward her.

He wanted to crawl over, wanted to block in front of her, but his body would not obey, and every time he moved, new blood surged from his wounds.

"Mother—"

His voice was drowned out in the golden light of the Ancestral Tower.