The air grows heavy with a palpable tension as the liquid Metal Ball's clone, the Eight Nine Serenities Ruler, makes his grand entrance onto the battlefield. His arrival sends shockwaves through the cultivators and demons alike, as they feel the weight of his oppressive presence.
The Ruler's voice cuts through the air in a chilling monotone, his words echoing with an eerie resonance. "Holy Man and Thirteen Tribulation Immortals, how can you be alive?" His disbelief is evident, his mind struggling to comprehend the unexpected turn of events. His words hang in the air, sending a ripple of unease through the hearts of those who hear them.
But the Ruler's surprise quickly gives way to anger, as his wrath takes center stage. In his eyes, every misfortune and setback can be traced back to his predecessor, the Seventh Ruler White. Blaming him has become a reflex, an instinct that fuels his rage.
He begins shouting lines along "White! It's all your fault!" and "White! I'll fuck thy mother!!".
With a mix of fury and determination, the Ruler declares, "I don't care. I will kill you all again." His monotone voice betrays none of the emotions raging within him. His resolve is unyielding, his desire for vengeance unwavering.
The cultivators brace themselves for the impending clash, knowing that they face a formidable opponent. The Ruler's presence alone is suffocating, his aura radiating a sense of imminent destruction. He emanates an energy that is both awe-inspiring and terrifying, causing even the most seasoned cultivators to hesitate.
As the Ruler takes his first step forward, the ground beneath him trembles, as if bowing to his immense power. His form glimmers with an otherworldly light, the liquid metal reflecting the chaos and malice within him. It is as though he embodies the very essence of the Nine Serenities, a force of darkness and malevolence.
The cultivators ready themselves, their hearts pounding with a mix of fear and determination. They know that this battle will test their limits, that their lives and the fate of the world hang in the balance. But they stand firm, refusing to cower in the face of this formidable adversary.
The clash begins, and the battlefield becomes a whirlwind of chaos. The Ruler moves with an unsettling fluidity, his attacks precise and devastating. Each strike carries the weight of his overwhelming power, threatening to obliterate anyone who dares stand in his way.
Even in the face of such overwhelming odds against them, the cultivators refuse to surrender. They fight with a fervor born from their determination to protect all they hold dear. They rally around the Holy Man and the Thirteen Tribulation Immortals, drawing strength from their unity and resolve.
As the chaotic battle rages on, a moment of stillness descends upon the battlefield. The Holy Man, filled with determination and resolve, steps forward, his eyes locked onto the Eight Nine Serenities Ruler. He carries the weight of responsibility on his shoulders, determined to face the Ruler head-on without relying on anyone else.
"For the honor of the cultivators, I will not falter!" he says while making this difficult decision of fighting alone with his enemy.
The Liquid Metal Ball only answered with his monotone voice hearing this "Your righteousness is but a flickering flame, soon to be extinguished!"
A hush falls over the battlefield as the Holy Man and the Ruler lock eyes. The air crackles with tension, each moment pregnant with anticipation. Time seems to slow, elongating every breath and heartbeat.
With a graceful motion, the Holy Man draws his weapon, a divine sword gleaming with ethereal light. The blade resonates with the power of countless cultivators who have fought alongside him, their spirits infusing the weapon with an otherworldly energy. It hums in his grasp, ready to be unleashed against the formidable foe before him.
The Ruler, his liquid Metal Ball clone shimmering with malice, gazes back at the Holy Man with an unnerving stillness. A sinister smile curls upon his face, his eyes glinting with cruel delight. He knows the true extent of his power, the vastness of his dominion over the Nine Serenities.
The clash begins, a dance of unparalleled skill and sheer force. The Holy Man's movements are swift and precise, his sword carving arcs of brilliance through the air. He attacks with a fluidity that seems to defy the laws of nature, striking with the speed and accuracy of a celestial being.
But despite his prowess, the Holy Man quickly realizes the enormity of the challenge before him. The Ruler's clone possesses a strength that surpasses even his own. Every strike from the Holy Man is met with a ferocious counter, each blow landing with bone-crushing force.
"Your futile resistance only strengthens my resolve!" The Ruler's clone says while fighting the Holy Man.
"I carry the hopes of countless cultivators! I will not let them down!"
The battlefield becomes a canvas of destruction as the two combatants weave a tapestry of light and darkness. The clash of their weapons reverberates through the air, each strike carrying the weight of their accumulated power. The ground beneath them trembles with each collision, bearing the scars of their relentless struggle.
The Holy Man fights with unwavering determination, channeling his every ounce of skill and experience. But try as he might, he cannot overcome the overwhelming might of the Ruler's clone. It is as if he is pitted against an unstoppable force, an entity born from the very essence of darkness.
"You cannot escape the grasp of the Nine Serenities, NO ONE CAN!"
With each passing moment, the Holy Man feels his energy wane. His muscles ache, his breath grows labored, and yet he refuses to yield. He draws upon the depths of his cultivation, tapping into reservoirs of power that lie deep within his being. But even with this surge of energy, he can sense the futility of his efforts.
The Ruler's clone, relentless and unyielding, presses his advantage. He exploits every weakness, every opening in the Holy Man's defenses. Blow after blow lands upon the Holy Man's body, each strike draining his strength and resolve.
"Your power pales in comparison to the might of the Nine Serenities!" states the Ruler.
As the battle reaches its climax, the Holy Man finds himself on the brink of exhaustion. His vision blurs, his limbs grow heavy. He knows that victory is beyond his reach, that he stands on the precipice of defeat.
"Your defiance is meaningless. Embrace the inevitable!" announces the Eight Nine Serenities Ruler in the midst of the tumultuous battle, as he prepares to deliver the final blow to the Holy Man. Suddenly a figure catches his attention, amongst the chaos and destruction, a lone cultivator stands defiant, locked in combat with the demons under the Ruler's command. It is none other than White, a familiar presence that ignites a flicker of recognition in the Ruler's eyes.
Time seems to slow as the Ruler's gaze fixates upon White, his liquid Metal Ball clone quivering with rage. A resounding monotone cry of "WHITE!" echoes through the battlefield, carrying the weight of countless grievances and a history of animosity. The Ruler's focus shifts, his attention diverted from the Holy Man as he sets his sights on the figure that has long been the object of his disdain.
In an instant, the Ruler abandons his imminent attack on the Holy Man, forsaking his pursuit of victory. Instead, he propels himself forward with unparalleled speed, his form streaking across the battlefield like a bolt of lightning. The ground trembles beneath his advance, evidence of his relentless determination to reach his ultimate target, White.
As the distance between them closes, the air crackles with an overwhelming tension. The Ruler's clone is consumed by a storm of conflicting emotions, anger, hatred, and an insatiable desire to kill. His features contort with malice, his every movement fueled by an intense, all-consuming fury.