Ultimate Magus in Cultivation World

Chapter 134: Trials of Spear XI



Spear struck spear in a storm of sparks and fury. Each collision birthed a shockwave, tearing the rubble into dust, ripping deep scars into the cracked barrier above.

Long Aotian’s face twisted with madness. His golden qi condensed into a blazing war-avatar, a colossal phantom with a crown of fire, its hands clutching the spear as if the sun itself had taken form.

"Sun Tyrant Spear Art—Solar Overlord’s Judgment!" he roared.

The avatar thrust downward, golden radiance erupting into a tidal wave that sought to obliterate everything below.

Tian Lei’s eyes burned cold. The emerald phantom behind him thickened, vines and bones coiling into an ancient death-god crowned with roots. Its hollow eyes glowed with eerie green fire as it moved in perfect union with him.

"Death-Dominion Spear Art—Soul-Reaping Forest!"

His spear slammed forward, emerald roots tearing open the ground, rising like a thousand skeletal arms. The vines coiled around the golden tidal wave, ripping and strangling, devouring its light as they clawed for Aotian himself.

BOOOOOOOM!

Light and darkness tore each other apart. Whole sections of the stage collapsed, dropping into bottomless cracks as the sealing formation groaned, glyphs flaring and dimming, threatening to shatter.

The disciples screamed, some falling to their knees, qi flaring just to withstand the aftershocks. Elders in the stands stood tense, ready to intervene—but the dueling master only raised a hand, eyes shining with rare awe.

"Not yet..." he whispered.

On the stage, the storm raged on.

Long Aotian’s arms bled, his veins glowing gold as he poured everything into his spear. His eyes burned like molten suns. "I am the heir of the Sun Tyrant legacy! Who are YOU to defy me!?"

Tian Lei’s hair whipped in the chaos, emerald qi burning brighter, darker, heavier, until even the air around him seemed to rot into death. His voice cut like a blade of ice:

"I am Tian Lei."

And with those words, his qi erupted.

The phantom colossus behind him howled—an emerald death-god unfurling its wings of roots, its form towering higher than the golden avatar. The stage shattered fully, both combatants now standing on hovering fragments of stone suspended by their qi alone.

Their spears rose—one blazing like the sun, the other cloaked in the shadow of graves.

And then, as if the heavens themselves had decreed it, they struck at the same time.

KAAAAAAAAA-BOOOOOOOOOOM!

The collision was not sound, but a calamity.Golden sunfire and emerald deathflame erupted into a blinding sphere of destruction, swallowing the dueling stage whole. The barrier overhead cracked like a mirror, lines of light webbing across its surface as though the heavens themselves were splintering.

The disciples screamed, shielding themselves as waves of qi tore their robes and rattled their bones. Even elders flared protective auras, their faces grim—yet their eyes refused to leave the battlefield.

In the maelstrom, the two figures did not retreat.

Long Aotian’s spear blazed, his war-avatar roaring, every stroke of his weapon a detonation of suns. Golden lances pierced through the storm, burning holes in the emerald gloom.

Tian Lei stood against it, emerald vines and skeletal phantoms lashing outward, roots gripping light itself and tearing it apart strand by strand. His death-god colossus surged forward, its hollow gaze locked on the sun phantom as though dragging it into the grave.

CLANG! CLANG! CLANG!

Each impact was apocalyptic. Fragments of stone suspended in midair disintegrated under the pressure. Flames rained upward like molten meteors, vines coiled into the sky like writhing dragons.

"DIE!" Long Aotian bellowed, golden aura tearing his flesh, veins bursting with blood and light. He thrust forward, his entire body behind the strike, his war-avatar mirroring the motion—"Solar Tyrant Spear Art—Heaven-Crushing Eclipse!"

A sun-shaped spearhead roared through the storm, burning the air into molten plasma.

Tian Lei’s eyes narrowed. His spear lifted, deathflame coiling into a black-green bloom. The phantom behind him raised its weapon in tandem, roots unfurling into a thousand spectral spears. His voice, cold and absolute, rang across the chaos:"Death-Dominion Spear Art—Endless Grave of Spears!"

Emerald lances burst outward in a storm, each one dripping with death-qi, each one hungry, devouring, eternal.

The golden sun clashed with the emerald grave.

BAAAAAAAAAAANG!

A shockwave swallowed the arena. The barrier above shattered completely, shards of light raining down like broken stars. The ground beneath gave way, crumbling into a pit as the two forces tore existence itself apart.

For long, endless breaths—there was nothing but light and death, gold and green, a storm that defied all restraint.

Then—silence.

The storm thinned. Dust and light drifted. The disciples blinked through the haze, coughing, straining to see.

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Two figures stood.

Long Aotian staggered, his war-avatar flickering, one knee buckling as blood poured from his arms. His golden spear trembled, its glow fractured.

Tian Lei’s death-god still loomed behind him, tattered yet unbroken, emerald flames dancing cold and cruel. His spear was raised, steady, aimed at Aotian’s heart.

The duel had not ended—but the difference was clear.

The silence was broken by a ragged breath.

Tian Lei’s voice was calm, merciless."Yield."

The word cut deeper than any strike.

Long Aotian’s head jerked up, his blood-smeared face twisted in fury. His chest heaved, qi raging violently within his cracked meridians. Yet his eyes blazed like molten suns.

"Yield...?" He spat crimson, teeth bared in madness. "I will die before I bow to you!"

His body shook as his qi spiraled out of control. Golden light flared, wild, unstable, consuming him as much as it empowered. The war-avatar behind him, broken and flickering, suddenly swelled again—its crown of fire roaring back to life, its frame reforged in burning fury.

The disciples gasped. Elders rose from their seats. This was not spear art anymore—this was self-destruction.

"Take my final attack, Tian Lei!!!" Long Aotian roared, voice cracking as blood streamed from his eyes. "If you survive, the legacy is yours—but I’ll drag you to hell with me!"

He planted his foot, the cracked stage trembling as golden qi poured from him in torrents, each pulse a detonation of light. His spear lifted, shaking violently, as if it too screamed under the burden. Above him, the sun-avatar condensed into a single, searing blade of light—a world-burning spearhead forged of pure essence.

"Solar Tyrant Spear Art—Final Sun Annihilation!"

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