Heavenly Rebellion: The Human Race's Rise to Prominence
Chapter 77: Chen Zi

Chapter 77: Chen Zi

Chen Yang was breathing heavily, his spiritual energy nearly drained from strengthening his attack.

The fact that it had been so easily neutralized put a huge damper on his spirits.

"You damn monster, you’ve always been like this since we were kids—thinking you were some big shot, so you never had any friends.

Did you think we didn’t notice how you always played with those monsters you created with your Heaven’s Pact?," Chen Yang spat, his expression twisted in disgust as he glared at Chen Mei.

Before Chen Mei could even refute him, Lin Feng, who had just experienced his epiphany and overheard their entire conversation, suddenly spoke.

His voice was loud and clear.

"Since when did the weak have any right to talk back to the strong? Who cares what she does with her life? When you have the stronger fist, you make the rules!" Feng shouted, his voice resonating through the surroundings.

"In fact, you’re lucky she’s kind enough not to kill you right now. If I were in her position, your head would’ve popped the moment you opened your mouth," Feng continued, his eyes burning with killing intent.

From the moment this man first appeared, he had tried to kill them all.

If it weren’t for Chen Mei suddenly showing up, they would already be dead.

Knowing he had someone stronger to protect them, Feng spoke his mind freely, unconcerned about whether he offended Chen Yang further.

Hearing Lin Feng’s words, Chen Yang narrowed his eyes before suddenly bursting into uproarious laughter, as if he had just heard the funniest joke in the world.

"You’re right. Since when did the weak have the right to talk back to the strong?

But do you even realize who you’re talking to right now? I could snap my fingers, and within an hour, your head would be displayed outside my estate."

Chen Yang smiled, his expression filled with murderous intent.

"In fact, I don’t even need my clan to help me. If you didn’t have this monster backing you up right now, you’d already be dead."

Lin Feng seethed with anger at Chen Yang’s words, yet he couldn’t deny the truth in them.

If Chen Mei weren’t protecting them, not only he but all of them would already be dead.

Once again, he was forced to recognize the vast gap between them—in both status and cultivation base.

And yet, rather than discouraging him, this realization only fueled an even greater surge of killing intent.

He sneered and replied, "Heh, you won’t be stronger for long. One of these days, I’ll definitely kill you."

Chen Yang was about to retort when Chen Mei, who had been silent this entire time, suddenly raised a finger.

In an instant, the massive Nethersoul Dreadmaw surged forward toward Chen Yang, and this time, she didn’t hold back—she was aiming to seriously injure him.

"What do you think you’re doing, you wench?! Don’t you know what will happen if you injure me?

Do you want to make things even worse for your father?!" Chen Yang screamed in panic as he realized Chen Mei was actually attacking him.

Desperate, he turned to Senior Frost for help.

"Senior, please help me! This monster is trying to hurt me—a member of the Chen Clan! You have to protect me!"

Yet, as expected, the Frostvenom Python didn’t come to his aid.

On the contrary, it even threw him off its back, sending him tumbling to the ground.

He landed on his butt, but the fall didn’t injure him—he had reinforced his body just before impact.

Afterward, the Frostvenom Python turned to Chen Yang, letting out a low hiss as if trying to communicate something.

Lin Feng, still on the ground and nearly finished with his treatment, heard the hissing sound and quickly asked the system what it meant.

[Responding to host: The Frostvenom Python is telling Chen Yang that he doesn’t care who fights who.]

Can he even understand what the Frostvenom Python is trying to say?

Feng wondered as he glanced at the massive Nethersoul Dreadmaw, which was surging straight toward the scrambling Chen Yang.

Realizing that Senior Frost had completely abandoned him instead of helping, Chen Yang cursed out loud, his voice filled with panic.

"Help!! What the hell are you doing?! Can’t you see this monster is about to hit me?!"

Just as the massive Netherpoison Dreadmaw was about to strike Chen Yang, a deep sigh echoed through the surroundings.

In that instant, an overwhelming spiritual energy pressure descended upon the battlefield—one even slightly stronger than the Frostvenom Python’s.

A middle-aged man in a flowing purple robe appeared between Chen Yang and Chen Mei, his arrival as sudden as a phantom.

His scraggly beard swayed gently in the breeze, and an oppressive aura rolled off him like distant thunder.

Without even glancing at the incoming attack, he slowly raised his hand.

A ripple spread outward from his palm, and in the next instant, a sword of pure violet light shimmered into existence.

Its energy was vast and overwhelming, laced with a terrifying sharpness that made the air hum.

Then, with an almost casual flick of his wrist—

SHING!

A thin arc of purple light streaked forward.

The moment it touched the massive Nethersoul Dreadmaw, the beast didn’t just stop—it disintegrated.

Its writhing tendrils evaporated into streams of violet mist, and its monstrous jaws crumbled into nothingness.

No explosion. No struggle. Just absolute erasure.

Lin Feng’s breath hitched. That single sword strike hadn’t merely countered the attack—it had erased it effortlessly.

Seeing that the attack had been stopped and that someone had come to his aid, Chen Yang’s panic vanished, and his arrogance instantly returned as he shouted—

"See that, you damn wench! The days of the Old Chen Clan are over! Did you really think your father cou—"

SLAP!

A sharp, resounding crack cut through the air, freezing everyone in place.

Even Lin Feng, who had been watching the scene unfold, was momentarily stunned.

His eyes widened in disbelief—because the one who had been struck was Chen Yang... and the one who had done it was—

"Chen Zi, you dare hit me?!" Chen Yang screamed, clutching his cheek, which burned with pain.