Chapter 1781 Sword Fells the Sect Master!

• Michael Shephard knew all too well that because the final diagram of the Xuanyuan Chart was formless and powerless within the Path of Annihilation, he might never grasp its true essence. And that only made him grasp just how terrifying the Thunder Emperor’s Master really was. The Nine Heavens Divine Thunder Seal—yeah, it was insane. A monster like the Thunder Emperor’s Master had to die. Otherwise, once he recovered, Michael would be staring down endless trouble. “No!” The Thunder Emperor’s Master sank into raw despair. He lurched to his feet and bolted toward the heart of the Heaven-Thunder Sect. His fighting spirit was gone—burned out. He just wanted to run. “Die!” Michael roared, and his sword flashed out. “Everyone, stop him together! Buy the Thunder Emperor’s Master time to recover! Otherwise, our Immortal Realm will be crushed by a man from the mundane world!” Right then, the sect master of the Heaven-Thunder Sect bellowed. He lunged and blasted an attack straight at Michael. His shout hit like cold water, snapping the crowd awake. Several sect masters rushed in first, striking at Michael. He wasn’t wrong. If the Thunder Emperor’s Master fell, nobody would be able to stop this mortal anymore. And right now the master was weakened; they had to buy him time. They couldn’t let Michael kill him. If the Thunder Emperor’s Master went down, they were all screwed. “Hmph.” Michael only let out a cold snort. With a sweep of the Xuanyuan Sword, radiant arcs erupted, streaking toward the sect masters who’d dared to move. In a blink, the light was right in their faces—cutting straight down. “Ah! How’s this possible!” Panic flashed in their eyes. They could feel how savage that light was. Their hearts snapped; no fight left, only the urge to run. Too late. The blades of light tore through their bodies, leaving them no chance to resist. In an instant, several sect masters were cut down on the spot. The Heaven-Thunder sect master had shouted the loudest, but he was no fool. He threw one token strike at Michael, then slipped back behind the crowd. He dodged the slaughter. Elders and earth-immortals who’d been ready to resist watched that scene and froze. None of them dared to block Michael now. They backed away fast, desperate to get clear. “Idiots! Stop him already!” the Heaven-Thunder sect master yelled, voice cracking with panic. His plan had been simple: use the other sects as a wall so he could run. Two birds, one stone—stall Michael while feeding those sects into the meat grinder. That would buy the Thunder Emperor’s Master time and drain the others’ strength. But no one was resisting now. How was this supposed to work? “If the Thunder Emperor’s Master dies, we’re all done for!” he kept shouting. No one listened. Watching the sect masters drop like flies had rattled them to the core. Those were sect masters—slaughtered just like that. And so easily. Just how strong was this “man from the mortal world,” really? “Damn it!” the Heaven-Thunder sect master snarled, sick with fury. He was about to order his own disciples to move—to throw the Heaven-Thunder disciples at Michael—when he saw something that knocked the breath out of him. “Th-this… how can this be!” He gaped, face drained to ash. His whole body went soft, as if his bones had vanished. He crumpled to the ground, drowning in despair.