Chapter 135: Suppression

Yang Yi was stunned beyond measure. In his estimation, even among peers of the same rank, few could easily escape the cage of his nebula. Yet, this young man before him had found the flaw in his technique in such a short span of time.

However, Yang Yi did not take it to heart. To him, this was merely a minor Spirit Emperor; at most, it would take a little effort, but he could still be slaughtered all the same.

He pushed out his right fist, unhurried and steady. Endless milky-white light engulfed the heavens and the earth, and Yang Yi seemed to merge into the radiance.

"Cloud Sky Purification!"

The world appeared to be filled with milky-white clouds. Those ribbons of light truly materialized into tangible substance, as if the clouds from the highest heavens had been summoned, hanging over the Duke’s estate and cascading down toward Ye Feng like a tidal wave.

This was the power of a divine ability!

Without a trace of violent spiritual energy, the milky-white clouds evoked a sense of profound serenity, so captivating that one could not bear to look away. This was a manifestation of the "Dao"—Yang Yi’s Dao, perhaps the Dao of the Firmament—and he had nearly grasped the very essence of the clouds.

Legend had it that one who fully mastered the Dao of Heaven and Earth could shatter the heavens and split the earth with a wave of their hand. Yet, the Dao Yang Yi displayed seemed to contradict these rumors; it was not nearly as exaggerated as the tales suggested.

"Boy, do not let your guard down. His Dao is not some trivial Firmament nonsense, but the Dao of Illusion. It is fortunate that the scoundrel has not yet fully comprehended it; if he were to push the Dao of Illusion to its peak, the power would be unimaginable."

No sooner had the Dragon-Flood Demon King finished speaking than the endless clouds began to surge and shift rapidly. It was as if ten thousand horses were galloping; a deep, rumbling thunder erupted in the sky, sounding like an angry, surging sea. Endless tribulation lightning and crashing waves poured down, resembling a galaxy collapsing from the nine heavens.

Had the Dragon-Flood Demon King not warned him, Ye Feng would likely have turned and fled instantly; this was a level of power no human should be able to withstand.

"Illusion... it is all an illusion. Pay it no mind!" Ye Feng muttered to himself, standing motionless.

*BOOM!*

The tribulation lightning struck, slamming violently into Ye Feng’s body. Dust billowed, his hair stood on end, and his clothes were reduced to charred, tattered rags hanging from his frame.

"You old monster, didn't you say it was an illusion? To hell with your 'illusion'..." Spitting out a cloud of black smoke, Ye Feng projected his consciousness into the Demon King’s Domain and roared.

The Dragon-Flood Demon King rolled his eyes, staring at Ye Feng as if he were an idiot. "I truly do not understand how a person can be this dense. I said he practices the Dao of Illusion; did you really think the lightning and such were mere phantoms? Do you think he would bother cultivating something that only serves to scare people? You are foolish to the extreme!"

"You mean to say those lightning bolts, the raging seas, and the wild clouds are merely condensed spiritual energy? They don't possess the true power of heaven and earth?" Ye Feng asked, foolishly scratching his head.

"At least you aren't completely hopeless!" The Dragon-Flood Demon King rolled his eyes again, grumbling as he turned away. "I’ve never met someone so thick-headed..."

While Ye Feng was occupied with the Demon King, the endless, surging waves descended, swallowing him whole.

"Get out of my way!" Ye Feng, having been humiliated repeatedly today, was losing his patience. Gripping the Dragon Blade, he unleashed a surge of spiritual energy. A blade beam dozens of feet long cut across the sky, cleaving downward with immense force.

*Rumble...*

The tide surged and the waves recoiled. Ye Feng’s terrifying strike split the endless waves in two, forcing them to flow backward.

*BOOM!*

More lightning fell, each bolt as thick as an arm, carrying terrifying power.

*Purple-Gold Eyes...*

Two golden beams shot from Ye Feng’s eyes. They were silent, yet their horrifying presence was soul-stirring, shooting into the high heavens like two golden dragons soaring to meet the lightning.

The waves receded and the lightning dissipated. Finally, a vast expanse of milky-white mist descended, manifesting into a hazy space. It resembled a grand palace, and Ye Feng caught glimpses of gods and Buddhas chanting scriptures. Waves of comfort flooded through his pores, making him feel so at ease that he didn't even want to move a muscle.

It was a scene so lifelike yet illusory that no one could distinguish the truth, leaving one with a sensation of comfort so profound that one would gladly die rather than move.

*BOOM!*

The next moment, violent spiritual energy erupted from within Ye Feng. The power surged, shattering the illusory palace and annihilating the non-existent gods and demons.

*Pfft...*

Ye Feng spat out a mouthful of blood, feeling intense pain in his chest. Fortunately, he had awakened at the last moment; had he not, the milky-white mist infiltrating his body would have ensnared his mind, turning him into a puppet.

Ye Feng stumbled backward, suppressed and on the defensive.

As the illusions vanished, Ye Feng felt as if he had been struck by lightning. He had been forced back dozens of feet, leaving footprints in the ground, each one radiating deep cracks. His body swayed, on the verge of collapsing into the dust.

Yang Yi stood unmoved, though his expression shifted repeatedly. He had been blocked—his pride-and-joy divine ability had been repelled by this minor Spirit Emperor.

All the spectators were shocked. Ye Feng was truly formidable, having dispersed the power of the heavens with his own strength.

Moving like wind and lightning, Yang Yi transformed into a phantom, appearing before Ye Feng in an instant.

*Swish...*

A punch of immense power struck out. This time, it was not the power of illusion, for Yang Yi saw that Ye Feng was near his limit and sought to crush him with raw, overwhelming spiritual energy.

"You are already very powerful; among your peers, you would certainly rank in the top five. But today, you must die!" The pressure was as heavy as a mountain, and his palm struck like an unscalable holy peak, descending upon Ye Feng.

*BOOM!*

Despite the protective shadow of the Dragon Shield, Ye Feng was sent flying, crashing through a rockery in the distance.

With blood leaking from the corner of his mouth, Ye Feng felt a sense of defeat and cold despair. Was the power of a Spirit Emperor truly impossible to challenge? This was a display of absolute strength; his defeat was not unjust. Yet... he was unwilling to accept it.

Though he had firmly suppressed Ye Feng, Yang Yi did not hold back. He showed no mercy, each palm strike delivered with maximum force, refusing to give Ye Feng a chance to recover.

*BANG!*

An overwhelming force struck. Ye Feng raised his arms to block, only to be sent flying again. His arm bones seemed to fracture, and he smashed through a crumbling building, bringing it down upon himself.

Everyone watching was horrified. No one had expected Yang Yi to be this powerful. Ye Feng was in full retreat, trapped by an invisible force, forced into passive defense. Each strike felt like a giant hammer slamming into his chest, and he had lost count of how much blood had spilled from his lips.