Chapter 149: Cannon Fire of the New Era! Farewell, Eastern Wasteland!

That black sword light, which had condensed the Nascent Soul Abbot’s lifetime of venomous hatred and cultivation, was so fast that it exceeded the limits of divine sense perception of everyone present.

It was as if it had not shot in from the horizon, but had been born directly within the void itself—appearing, and already arriving before the power core of “Ascension No. 1.”

Even space itself twisted before it. Around the sword light surfaced countless agonized, wailing faces of souls. That was the Nirvana Zen Monastery Abbot burning his divine soul at all costs, detonating the residual resentment of the Ten Thousand Souls Cavern to unleash his strongest strike!

“It’s over!”

Before the mountain gate, Sun Desheng and the others who had come to see them off were so frightened that they collapsed onto the ground, their faces drained of all color.

With the might of this sword, not to mention a single flying boat—even a mountain-protecting grand formation would be pierced straight through on the spot!

This Ascension Group “Chairman’s personal craft,” which was about to be shot down before it had even set sail, would likely become the greatest joke in the Eastern Wasteland cultivation world for the next hundred years.

“Impudent brat, how dare you!”

True Lord Xuantian was both shocked and enraged. The late–Nascent Soul stage power erupted violently as he was about to transform it into a heaven-piercing sword rainbow to forcibly intercept the attack—only to be stopped by a calm glance from Chu Feng.

That gaze was tranquil and unruffled, as if it were saying:

Ancestor, calm down for now—don’t steal the spotlight from the new product.

True Lord Xuantian froze. The surging power that was about to burst forth was forcibly suppressed, nearly causing him to suffer backlash.

Following Chu Feng’s line of sight, he saw that beneath the ferocious prow of “Ascension No. 1,” a pitch-black metal armor plate silently slid open. A… gigantic cannon he had never seen before slowly extended outward.

The barrel was not forged from metal, but fashioned from a semi-transparent gray crystal. Across the cannon body were densely engraved spirit-gathering formations and soul-power runes of unfathomable profundity, handwritten by Leng Yanran herself.

Deep within the muzzle, there was no flame, no lightning—only a slowly rotating, heart-stopping gray energy vortex.

It was as if that was not a cannon muzzle, but a demonic eye leading straight to the netherworld.

“T-this… what is this?”

True Lord Xuantian’s pupils shrank abruptly. From that massive cannon, he felt a terrifying aura that could threaten his very life.

It was a purely annihilative force, aimed directly at the soul!

At the bow of the ship, Chu Feng could not even be bothered to stand.

He still sat steadily on that grand armchair crafted from ten-thousand-year spirit wood. Under the horrified gazes of everyone present, he lifted his spirit tea cup, blew gently on it, then extended his other hand and lightly pressed an inconspicuous red button on the armrest.

The movement was carefree and effortless—as if he were not firing a world-destroying cannon, but merely switching a song in a KTV room.

“Weng—”

There was no earth-shaking roar, no dazzling burst of light.

A bucket-thick beam of dead-gray energy silently shot out from the cannon muzzle.

Its speed was not fast—if anything, it was rather slow. So slow that everyone present could clearly see its trajectory.

But what was eerie was that the black sword light, which had burned up everything of the Nascent Soul Abbot, the instant it touched this gray beam, was like a drop of ink falling into concentrated sulfuric acid. It failed to stir even the slightest ripple before being dissolved and devoured—along with the endless venomous resentment and frenzied divine will contained within it, all disappearing without a trace.

After accomplishing all this, the gray beam did not slow down in the slightest. Still unhurried, it tore across the sky, crossed mountains and rivers, and flew with pinpoint accuracy toward some distant direction on the horizon.

……

A thousand miles away, at the ruins of Nirvana Zen Monastery.

This place had long since become rubble. Yet within the sole remaining, shattered Buddha hall at the center of the ruins, an emaciated old monk sat cross-legged. His physical body had already cracked like porcelain.

His eyes were bloodshot, blood flowing from his seven orifices. All of his life essence and divine soul power had already been poured into the spatial rift before him.

He sensed it. His strongest strike… had been blocked.

How was that possible?!

That was an assassination attack he had unleashed by burning everything, wagering even the cycle of reincarnation!

Even a Nascent Soul cultivator at great completion would inevitably be heavily injured if caught unprepared!

Just as shock and fury surged within him and he could not comprehend it, an extreme terror arising from the depths of his soul caused every hair on his body to stand on end!

He abruptly raised his head.

He saw that the void above him had silently裂 open.

A beam of dead-gray light slowly extended from it, like an eye from hell, coldly gazing down at him.

“No—”

The Nirvana Zen Monastery Abbot only managed to let out a shrill scream that no longer sounded human, filled with boundless fear, regret, and disbelief.

The next second, the gray beam descended.

There was no explosion, no shockwave.

The remaining mountain-protecting grand formation above the monastery ruins—still capable of resisting attacks from Golden Core cultivators—was like a soap bubble touched by sunlight. With a soft “pop,” it silently vanished.

Immediately after came the shattered Buddha hall, the Abbot’s oil-depleted physical body, the entire mountain peak…

Everything, under the shroud of the gray beam, was like a pencil drawing erased by a rubber eraser—inch by inch dismantled and wiped away from the material level, ultimately returning to the most primitive particles and dispersing between heaven and earth.

Only a wisp of divine soul, so faint it was almost invisible, was grazed by the edge of the beam at the critical moment. It let out a piercing scream and fell like a kite with its string cut into the fissure below, its aura instantly withering to the extreme, sinking completely into silence.

The might of a single cannon—mountain gate leveled, Nascent Soul on the brink of death!

……

Ascension Group headquarters.

Chu Feng blew away the nonexistent smoke from the cannon muzzle, set down his teacup, and stood up. Facing the group behind him—who were already petrified like clay statues—he revealed a gentle smile.

“Alright, the ceremonial salute of the new era has finished firing.”

“Family Members, set off!”

“Boom—”

The engines of “Ascension No. 1” erupted with deafening thunder. The massive hull trembled slightly, then transformed into a brilliant golden streak of light. Amid the Eastern Wasteland cultivators’ mixed gazes of awe, envy, fear, and fanaticism, it proudly charged toward that unknown yet vast distance.

On the flying ship, Zhao Wuji excitedly hugged his little notebook, trembling all over as he muttered nonstop:

“New… the ceremonial salute of the new era… so this is what real corporate culture display looks like!”

“Using a crushing victory as the ritual to bid farewell to the old market!”

“Style! This level of style is completely maxed out!”

“President, you are my god!”

The flying ship soon entered a stable high-speed cruising mode.

Feng Zhiruo stepped lightly forward and arrived beside Chu Feng, who stood at the bow, facing the wind.

She handed over the latest Mortal Realm star map provided by Thousand Illusions Pavilion. Her expression was more solemn than ever before.

“President.”

She had already very naturally accepted this form of address.

“According to the star map, three thousand li ahead, we will be entering the most chaotic ‘no-man’s jurisdiction’ of the Mortal Realm—the Black Wind Domain.”

“That place is a paradise for star pirates and desperadoes, and also a mandatory passage for all those heading toward the Central Domain. Because the spatial storms there are the most stable, it is a natural航道.”

“It is said that there are hundreds of star pirate factions entrenched in the Black Wind Domain, large and small. The strongest among them even have old demons at the late Nascent Soul stage holding the fort—forces that even first-rate powers are unwilling to provoke lightly.”

She looked at Chu Feng’s still-calm profile and said each word clearly:

“Our ‘roadshow’ has already begun… starting now.”

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep