Chapter 613: Fourteen Thrones, I, the Dragon, Raise My Head
The great sword immortal Yue Qing wore a robe of standard make from the Garment Workshop, and at his waist hung a sword named "Unshakable as the Five Sacred Peaks." But compared to this semi-immortal weapon that was rarely drawn, Yue Qing actually preferred the standard longsword forged by the Sword Workshop. Hence, the sword he now held in both hands was one from the Sword Workshop. The trend on the Sword Qi Great Wall whereby many sword immortals and Earth Immortal sword cultivators still favored wearing robes from the Garment Workshop and swords from the Sword Workshop was largely owed to Yue Qing's influence.
The female sword immortal Zhou Chen was still swinging on her swing. Long ago, a young man who said he wanted to see his homeland one last time ended up dying for her at the hands of those from that so-called homeland. Zhou Chen had no personal sword; the golden thread-like sword intent passed down through generations of her sect, fluctuating and drifting around her, served as her many unsheathed swords.
The young and handsome Jade Pu realm sword immortal Wu Chengpei had reddened eyes and a twisted face. Fine, fine, fine. Today's great demons were especially numerous—familiar faces and unfamiliar faces alike.
The sword immortal from Southern Bodhisattva Continent, Yuan Qingshu, stood shoulder to shoulder with the local sword immortal Gao Kui. Gao Kui's expression was solemn as he used heart-to-heart communication to explain to Yuan Qingshu the origins and backgrounds of some legendary great demons. This time, the great demons of the Barren Wild World, who had been hiding and fleeing for countless years, had come out in full force, gathering at the southern battlefield—a situation unseen in tens of thousands of years. Particularly striking were fourteen great demons at the very front of the southern land, beings that were the foremost existences on the original old almanacs like the *Illustrated Bestiary of Bai Ze* and the *Mountain-Searching Painting*. Many printed editions later circulated throughout the Haoran World no longer recorded them at all. Even Gao Kui admitted he had never seen them alive before; this time, the Barren Wild World had assembled them all at once, saving trouble.
Yuan Qingshu took off a Sword-Nurturing Gourd and drank wine. For every ancient origin Gao Kui explained about a great demon, Yuan Qingshu would take a sip, using the great demon's name as an accompaniment to the wine—the flavor was excellent.
Taihui Sword Sect's sect leader Han Huaizi was resting with his eyes closed, his palm pressing against his sword hilt, occasionally tapping it lightly. Standing beside him was Li Cai, the sect leader of the Floating Lotus Sword Lake, also from Beiju Luzhou.
Li Cai's eyes shone. Good heavens, every single one looked like they could put up a great fight.
There were two traveling visitors from afar who looked more like a fisherman and a woodcutter than sword immortals—a pair of close friends from the mountain on Baibai Continent, kindred spirits, sword immortals Zhang Shao and Li Ding. Originally somewhat heavy-hearted, they exchanged a glance, smiled knowingly, and both harbored thoughts of death.
Zhao Geyi sat where he was and looked back. On the northern city wall, Cheng Quan should have been sitting, but he had been severely injured by a great demon and had dropped in realm, becoming a pathetic Nascent Soul wanderer. Since he was no longer an Upper Five Realm sword cultivator, he had cursed and left. Zhao Geyi withdrew his gaze and laughed heartily. He and Cheng Quan had been competing their whole lives—over cultivation realm, over flying sword quality, over killing power, and even over the favor of the girl their hearts desired. Cheng Quan had always won more often. How about now? Now not only was his own realm higher, but when it came to being the first to die, you, Cheng Quan, as a mere Nascent Soul, don't even have the chance. You'll just have to eat dust behind me.
When I get down below, I'll see her first, and that will make you Cheng Quan furious.
Nalan Yexing was somewhat annoyed. Couldn't these beasts from the Barren Wild World wait a little longer before coming to die? Once he returned to the Immortal realm, then when the beasts died under his flying sword, wouldn't that be a more satisfying death?
Still, Nalan Yexing was a bit puzzled. The enemy's formation looked strange. Usually, the sky would be thick as locust swarms and the ground dense as rats and ants with an army, but they hadn't assembled yet. Was the Barren Wild World planning to rely on these solitary great demons to storm the city wall? Had their master's wines not even reached the Barren Wild World, yet these great demons' minds were already rotten?
Han Huaizi smiled faintly, his expression free and easy, brimming with high spirits.
After this battle, my Taihui Sword Sect will have no regrets.
The Hidden Official was rubbing his hands together, occasionally wiping the corner of his mouth, muttering, "Looks like they're going for one-on-one fights. If we get through this without dying, not only can we drink, but we can definitely drink our fill."
A sword immortal crouched at the edge of the wall, running his hand over the jagged stones, his expression aloof, carrying a faint nostalgia even as matters of life and death were involved.
Another sword immortal opened a jug of wine, murmured something to himself, slowly poured out the wine, then casually tossed the jug out beyond the city wall.
Old Deafie remained expressionless, just thinking about when he could leave the city wall and go back to his little nest. The wind up here was really a bit too strong.
Mi Hu's expression was grave. This time, the arrival was hostile to the utmost extreme.
Immortal realm Li Tuimi smiled bitterly. Well then, this time it wasn't a case of that Fatty Yan being fattened up for slaughter; looking at the enemy's posture, he himself was the meal on the plate.
On the vast land south of the city wall, fourteen seats were arranged in a single line, varying in height and greatly differing in size, like the strangest Ancestral Hall under heaven.
This was quite different from the seating arrangements of Ancestral Halls in the Haoran World.
Apart from those fourteen very unfamiliar great demons, the rest of the so-called great demons—familiar faces on the Sword Qi Great Wall over the past century—now seemed less like great demons. Those conspicuous beings that once drew the most attention and attracted the most flying swords on the battlefield now obediently stood behind that line.
This was the rule of the Barren Wild World: simple, brutal, direct—even more straightforward than the Sword Qi Great Wall, and incomparable to that Haoran World, which loved empty pretenses.
Chen Qingdu, hands clasped behind his back, said softly with a smile, "When your swordsmanship is high enough, looking at this scene is a magnificent and grand sight. I feel like any sword stroke will land on something solid. Zuo You, what do you think?"
Zuo You grasped his longsword. "I never think that much when I draw my sword."
Chen Qingdu glanced further south. Truly the master of this world—if one didn't actively appear and stayed a bit far away, it was hard to detect him.
So Chen Qingdu withdrew his gaze and looked at those noisy fellows making a grand entrance. He had dealt with some of them before, of course, but for various reasons—good luck, fast escapes, thick hides—they hadn't been killed by him. But that was a long time ago. Whether there would be "a long time later" stories was hard to say.
According to previous calculations, gathering the combat power of half the Barren Wild World would be enough to devour the Sword Qi Great Wall. That wasn't just an empty threat.
That was the truth.
But these beasts, old and young, big and small, loved infighting, and that undying old monster neither died nor appeared. Without a leader to rally them, especially without someone who could truly contain him, Chen Qingdu, they remained scattered. Many siege battles that seemed certain victories would only become slightly more brutal; when the losses were severe, a great demon would arbitrarily lead the army in retreat, taking its tribe back to recuperate, or some great demon would be killed by great sword immortals deep in enemy territory, and the other great demons would scramble to devour the dead one's forces, caring nothing for the Sword Qi Great Wall—a chicken rib even if captured.
Thus, only once in history, on the most perilous occasion, did the Hall of Heroes of the Barren Wild World—what Chen Qingdu called the rat's nest—see nearly half of its thrones occupied by their respective masters, each swearing oaths and dividing interests. Then came that great battle, probably the only truly brutal one. If Chen Qingdu remembered correctly, at that time, only he remained on the entire city wall, and the northern city almost had its formation broken, completely severing the Sword Qi Great Wall's future.
That time, many old men in young sword cultivators' eyes died, and many children in young sword immortals' eyes died as well.
Chen Qingdu sighed and said slowly, "For all three sides, it's time for an outcome."
After being convicts for ten thousand years, he owed himself an explanation as well.
Far to the south.
There was a shattered, inverted mountain, with countless huge broken stones connected by iron chains, much like the Inverted Mountain. The peak pointed to the ground, the base pointed to the sky. On that inverted mountain's high platform, as smooth as a mirror, sunlight made it dazzling like the world's largest gold essence copper coin. A great demon in a golden robe sat there, his features unclear.
The great demon reached out and grabbed a large handful of intangible golden copper coins, but they quickly slipped through his fingers like water cupped in hands, flowing back to the ground. It wasn't real enough yet; he needed the many mountain and river gods of the Haoran World to complete it. Only then would his Golden Essence Throne live up to its name. According to the agreement, after this expedition, the golden body fragments of all mountain and river gods on one continent of the Haoran World would be his. But it wasn't enough—far from enough. If he wanted to become like the great sun in the sky, to be unbound for millennia, truly immortal, he needed to devour more. Preferably, he should also swallow the true-body reincarnations of those legendary heavenly gods—only then would he be truly full!
Above, a vast expanse of adjacent jade towers and golden palaces floated. A great demon in human form sat on a railing, like a miser guarding a great estate, smiling as he gazed at the Sword Qi Great Wall. He had heard that beyond the city wall, further north, there was a Pavilion of Stopping Clouds made of immortal jade, and the Residence of Ten Thousand Valleys, where pine waves roared on clear moonlit nights. These could add some charm to his dwelling, but they were just appetizers. He would only be satisfied if he also occupied the "Great Collection of World's Memorial Archways," the socalled Chen Clan of Pure Confucianism in Southern Bodhisattva Continent. And it would be even better to claim the ancient Ascension Platform in that small Vial Continent, which held a great world within.
A huge divine corpse floated in the air. A great demon sat atop its head, a long spear piercing through the entire divine skull, the spear shaft hidden, only its tip and butt visible. Faint thunder rumbled at the spear tip, shaking the entire corpse. The great demon patted the spear tip lightly. He had heard that the cultivators of the Haoran World excelled in the True Five Thunder Magic, especially the Celestial Master's Mansion on Dragon and Tiger Mountain in the Central Plains. He could test them.
A throne of piled bones, built from hundreds of thousands of skeletons—both demon and sword cultivator. A fleshless great demon, its bones white as jade, stood with one foot stepping on the skull of an ancient great sword immortal. The great demon, holding a wine cup and drinking heavily, rolled the skull back and forth with his toe. He stopped drinking, changed his sitting posture, tilted the cup, and poured the crimson wine over the skull. After a moment, the skull slowly rose into the air. As more wine poured out, the skull gradually grew flesh, sinews, and bones, eventually becoming an old man ten feet tall, indistinguishable from a human. The bone demon shook his sleeve, and a rainbow light shot out. The slightly stiff old man reached out and caught it. In that instant, the dull-eyed, slow old man held the rainbow like a sword immortal holding a sword, his aura towering.
There was an ancient pillar a thousand zhang tall, carved with long-lost runes. A scarlet serpent coiled around it, surrounded by dim, lusterless dragon pearls that drifted and rotated. The serpent flicked its tongue, staring fixedly at that wall. It would smash this rotten fence that had stood for ten thousand years, then destroy the Inverted Mountain. Its only goal was the last little creature in the human world that could barely be called a true dragon. From then on, it would perfect its Dao, and it alone would command the rain and clouds and the water laws of both worlds.
A tattered robe slowly materialized, empty inside. It fluttered in the wind, making a rustling sound.
When this inexplicable, masterless robe appeared, the ancient sword intent around the Sword Qi Great Wall grew joyful as if meeting an old friend; more sword intents seemed to sob; and countless sword intents raged even more violently, as if cursing that gray robe.
A stunningly beautiful woman wearing an imperial crown and a black dragon robe had the head of a human and the body of a jiao dragon. She sat on a dragon throne the size of a mountain peak, her extremely long dragon body trailing on the ground. Every time her tail tip lightly struck the earth, it caused violent tremors for a hundred li and sent dust flying. Compared to her massive body, hundreds of elegant women around her were tiny as dust, like flying apsaras on murals, their colored ribbons floating, hugging pipas.
A short old man hovered on a flying sword, his arms as long as an ape's, a long staff resting on his shoulder, his hands casually placed on it. His brows and hair were white, but he wore black clothes. The longsword beside him slowly rotated. Occasionally, he would inhale and suck one or two of the pipa-playing women from his neighbor's side into his mouth, chewing and swallowing thoroughly. One of the old man's hands wore a string of prayer beads, but they were rough, just stones of various sizes and sharp edges.
The woman on the dragon throne with the crown didn't mind. She even shook her sleeve and sent more than a dozen "maidservants" flying toward the old man, offering them to him to eat.
A figure in a snow-white Daoist robe sat cross-legged in midair, his face blurry, three hundred zhang tall—not a Dharma manifestation but his true body. Behind him, a bright crescent moon hung, as if plucked from the sky to the human world.
There was a three-headed, six-armed giant sitting on a huge cushion made of piled golden books. Even sitting on the ground like this, he was still taller than his "neighbor" Daoist. On his chest was a shocking sword scar, deep as a trench. The giant did not deliberately hide it. He would erase this great humiliation only when he had gotten his revenge.
High above, a neatly dressed man with a big beard had a saber at his waist and a sword on his back. Beside him stood a young man in tattered clothes carrying a sword rack on his back. The rack held many swords, spreading out like a peacock's tail.
At the last secret meeting of heroes in the Hall of Heroes, despite being summoned, this big-bearded man had not attended—he hadn't even bothered to show his face. But back then, no one dared say anything.
Even higher was a man in Confucian robes sitting upright, a smile on his face, hands folded on his abdomen, holding a fist-sized ball of light in his palms—sometimes pure white, suddenly jet-black, then abruptly multicolored.
An extraordinarily handsome young man sat neither high nor low. Not only had he transformed into human form, but he was also of ordinary human height. However, upon closer inspection, his face was pieced together. At his waist hung an ancient Sword-Nurturing Gourd, filled with remnants of sword immortals' souls and many worn-out natal flying swords. Like the other great demons sitting at varying heights around him, he had not appeared in the world for too long. The contents of his Sword-Nurturing Gourd had been offered by generations of disciples and descendants.
A burly man clad in golden armor stood on the ground, his fists clenched tightly. Thick, oily golden light continuously flowed out from the gaps in his armor. This golden armor, of immortal weapon quality yet nearly shattered, was not a treasured item willingly worn but a cage like a minor heaven and earth.
Ten thousand years ago, humans reached the summit, and demons were driven to the vast but barren lands with scarce resources and spiritual energy. Then sword cultivators were exiled to the area now known as the Sword Qi Great Wall and began building walls to defend. This was now called the Barren Wild World, one of the four parts into which the human world was divided long ago. When the Barren Wild World first formally became "a world," the heaven and earth were newborn, the Dao still embryonic and unstable. On the Sword Qi Great Wall side, three convict sword cultivators, led by Chen Qingdu, challenged the Tuoyue Mountain. After that, the Demon Ancestor vanished, leaving the group without a leader, thus forming the stalemate between the Barren Wild World and the Sword Qi Great Wall. The ancient well called the Hall of Heroes later served as both a meeting place for great demons and a prison. Actually, Tuoyue Mountain was originally the earliest equivalent of a secular dynasty's imperial palace. But after the Battle of Tuoyue Mountain, Chen Qingdu returned to the Sword Qi Great Wall alone. Tuoyue Mountain was shattered, so a "secondary capital," the Hall of Heroes, was built for councils. Yet in the ten-thousand-year history, the fourteen thrones had never been fully occupied. At most six or seven had gathered to discuss rare major events; sometimes, just two or three great demons would decide and swear oaths there.
After that sudden upheaval and earth-shattering battle, countless hidden dragons and serpents rose from mountains and wilds, surging forth, each carving out their own territory. This golden-armored man was among the most outstanding. After that great war, the Barren Wild World lost the trace of the only being capable of commanding universal submission. He then sought to become the world's common master. But according to the rules, he was defeated in his attempt to summit Tuoyue Mountain, was punished, and was confined to the bottom of the ancient well in the Hall of Heroes by several great demons guarding Tuoyue Mountain.
Unexpectedly, he schemed and connected with the outside world, barely managed to break free, but just then a young Daoist riding an ox was traveling through the Barren Wild World. He came to the ancient well, stood on its mouth, extended a single finger, and lightly pressed this great demon—who had just managed to crawl out—back into the well. That one finger not only sent him back to the underground prison but also released golden light that firmly trapped this great demon of high seniority. Fortunately, the great demon had lived since ancient times, far outlasting the humans raised by ancient gods. Once they chose to hibernate in deep slumber, the passage of time had minimal effect on them. Thus he finally endured until the reappearance of that old man, who permitted him to atone for his crimes with merit.
On that stationary horizontal line to the south.
The inverted mountain, the golden-robed great demon.
The great demon sitting alone on the railing in the jade towers and golden palaces, like an ancient immortal from the books of the Haoran World.
The man on the head of the divine corpse, with the spear piercing through it, containing the purest thunder magic spirit of the Barren Wild World.
On the bone throne, he had turned an ancient great sword immortal into a puppet restored to his peak.
The scarlet serpent coiled around the pillar was like the master of all water spirits in the Barren Wild World.
The white-robed Daoist had refined half the essence of one of the three moons of the Barren Wild World into his natal object.
The three-headed, six-armed giant had once been the first to ascend the Sword Qi Great Wall, survived a sword strike from Chen Qingdu, and was hell-bent on going to the Haoran World to shatter all Ancestral Halls, large or small.
The woman in the imperial crown and dragon robe aimed to become the common ruler of the nine continents' mortal world in the Haoran World. The orderly flow of incense offerings and the rebirth of gods would all be under her control. As a trade-off, she had gifted her own Yeluo River to another great demon of her generation, ending their internal rivalry. Before this, neither had trusted the other, and both had wanted to devour each other. Now, everything was different; they each had greater ambitions.
The owner of that tattered robe had once been one of the fellow sword cultivators who left the Sword Qi Great Wall with Chen Qingdu to challenge Tuoyue Mountain—a close friend of that elder great sword immortal.
The big-bearded man, standing with his only disciple, had once fought with A Liang, drunk with him, and sometimes helped that old blind man move mountains on idle days.
The Confucian-robed man would go to the Haoran World. After the human realm was completely shattered, he would reorganize the land and, with his learning, educate all beings without distinction.
The great demon bound by golden armor for countless years not only intended to go to the Haoran World but also to lead his army to the Azure World, to the White Jade Capital.
The old man on the flying sword wanted to refine all Five Sacred Mountains of the Haoran World into his own possessions. He would personally smash the nine Great Suppression Towers and then ask Bai Ze what he was thinking.
The handsome man with the Sword-Nurturing Gourd at his waist thought his ambition was the smallest. He only wanted to collect the faces of all beauties in the Haoran World. Female cultivators on the mountains—even without faces, they could still live. If they didn't want to live without their faces, he didn't need to act; thousands of ways to die awaited them.
These fourteen great demons were the current peak of the Barren Wild World.
Most had been awakened from endless slumber.
Some had always been awake but had remained in their lairs throughout long history, choosing to sit idly by during the Sword Qi Great Wall battles, never interfering in the roughly once-a-century sieges.
The seats in the Hall of Heroes were not fixed, nor was the number set. Some fell, and their thrones shattered, falling to the bottom of the well; some juniors rose and could occupy a seat in the Hall of Heroes. There was no seniority determining rank; the greater the combat power, the higher the throne. The weak had to look up to others. The history of the Barren Wild World was a history of the strong trampling over the bones of ants, gradually ascending to achieve immortal feats. There were also secular dynasties, no less impressive than those of the Haoran World, that rose and established various rules and rites. But they never lasted, unable to withstand the trampling of great demons that turned from neutral to hostile. In the river of time, they were always fleeting blooms.
Individual, overwhelming strength was always the ultimate pursuit of the Barren Wild World's powerhouses.
All else was delusion.
All internal consumption, the annihilation of countless demon clans, the disappearance of myriad ants—these were just solid steps for individual powerhouses to reach the summit.
Then this small cluster of existences kept each other in check to avoid mutual destruction. That was the world's only rule. The existence of the Hall of Heroes, the increase and decrease of new and old thrones in the ancient well—all were dictated by this rule.
Suddenly, the fourteen great demons all descended to the ground.
From the central area, an old man in gray robes slowly walked out, leading a child by the hand.
The child, in turn, held a man's head by its topknot. The man had died with eyes wide open, still glaring even at the moment of death, utterly unafraid, but seeming to harbor great unresolved hatred.
Behind the gray-clad old man and the child followed a great demon at the Ascension realm, stooped low. This was the great demon who had presided over the last siege battle and had been chased by the city wall's new sword immortal, Zuo You. The great demon had named himself Chongguang, an ancient existence of high status in the Barren Wild World.
Naturally, Chongguang dared not reveal his true form; he walked behind the gray-clad old man with a swagger.
When the gray-clad old man stopped, Chongguang, as instructed, strode forward alone, approached the Sword Qi Great Wall, and announced loudly, "In the next great battle, any sword immortal who does not wield his sword with full force will not die on the day the Sword Qi Great Wall falls! After that, you may freely travel to the Barren Wild World or see the sights of the Haoran World—come and go as you please. As for lower-realm sword cultivators on the wall, those who refuse to fight and leave the wall will be my Barren Wild World's most honored guests, esteemed visitors!"
On the city wall, there was dead silence.
Dong Sangeng sneered, "Upper-realm beasts to the south—whoever first climbs the wall dies first."
Chongguang turned his head; even if he wanted to threaten back, it wasn't his turn.
The gray-clad old man patted the child's head. "Go. You were once acquaintances. Now, as a direct disciple of Tuoyue Mountain, greet Chen Qingdu."
The child, dragging the head with dried blood by one hand, walked forward slowly, gradually picking up speed until his footsteps thundered. Finally, he stopped, threw the head heavily, and it rolled to the ground.
The owner of that head was a great sword immortal of the Sword Qi Great Wall who had hidden in the Barren Wild World for six hundred years. Not only was his swordsmanship excellent, but he was also a master of diplomacy and strategy, having instigated many conflicts between great demons.
The child looked somewhat aggrieved and turned back. "Master, my realm is too low now, and there's too much sword qi on the wall. I can't throw it up there!"
The gray-clad old man smiled. "The intention is what matters. Besides, those sword immortals have very good eyesight."
The child grinned, shifted his gaze, and looked challengingly at the young man beside the big-bearded man.
The young man said nothing, but all the swords behind him on his rack unsheathed half an inch.
The gray-clad old man looked up at the city wall, his eyes fixed only on the elder great sword immortal, Chen Qingdu.
Chen Qingdu, hands clasped behind his back, looked down at the earth, meeting his gaze. Then he reached out casually. From the prison north of the city wall, he forcibly ripped the head of an Ascension realm great demon from its body. In an instant, he held it in his hand and said with a smile, "I kept this head for you all these years. Also a direct disciple of Tuoyue Mountain."
The gray-clad old man smiled. "Chen Qingdu, haven't seen you in ten thousand years, and you've become this formidable?"
After a pause, he finally asked, "Then should I make you die once more?"
Many visiting sword immortals on the city wall were baffled.
Chen Qingdu said, "As expected from someone who's been holding grudges underground for ten thousand years. No wonder you're so full of hot air."
The gray-clad old man shook his head. "I heard your new sword is named Long Qi. Not good. No, it's too bad."
Chen Qingdu kept his hands behind his back and smiled. "If you were a woman, you'd have the ability to know whether I'm good enough."
Whistles erupted on the city wall.
It seemed not only the sword cultivators inside the city liked this.
The sword immortals were much the same.
The child returned to the gray-clad old man's side, tugged at his master's sleeve, and said, "That saying is convincing."
The gray-clad old man was not at all annoyed. He looked down at his secluded disciple, whom he had painstakingly sought out yet was still incomplete in soul, and instead laughed. "These people, alive or dead, sword cultivators or not, only have the sharpest tongues. If you want to learn this most vulgar skill later, you can learn it easily in the Haoran World."
A great demon sitting on the railing of the immortal mansion laughed, "You, Chen Qingdu, are truly both admirable, hateful, and pitiable. But pitiable the most. Locking up these great demons without killing them, using them as whetstones for sword immortals and for your alchemy production—you must have been cursed plenty by the scholars of the Haoran World, right? Dragging the entire Sword Qi Great Wall to wait here for death—you must have been hated by your own people plenty, right? Tell me, aren't you pitiable? You've already died once, and people still stab you in the back. Chen Qingdu, Chen Qingdu, if I were you, I'd have died to save the trouble."
Chen Qingdu didn't even look at this peak great demon.
Zuo You looked at those misty, ethereal jade towers and golden palaces and asked, "Are you even worthy of speaking to the elder great sword immortal?"
The great demon laughed. "Perhaps I'm not qualified to speak to Chen Qingdu, but speaking to you should be more than enough."
The child walked out alone again, finally stopped beside the head, stepped on the great sword immortal's skull, and looked up with a smile. "I'm twelve years old now. Your Sword Qi Great Wall has plenty of geniuses, doesn't it? Send someone around my age to fight me! I won't bully you—any sword cultivator under thirty can come. Remember to bring a few semi-immortal weapons and treasures, or you won't be worth my time!"
The old sword immortal Qi Tingji frowned. "This little brat wants Ning Yao to show up, exchange life for life, and then have you leave the city wall so that old bastard can take advantage of position and timing."
Chen Qingdu nodded with a smile. "That's the idea. But it doesn't matter. If we can't handle this little provocation, then why are we even guarding the Sword Qi Great Wall?"
Chen Qingdu beckoned.
A group of young people appeared behind him, more than a dozen of them: Pang Yuanji, Chen Sanqiu, Dong Huafu—all among them.
Of course, Ning Yao, who had just completed her seclusion, was also there, as well as Chen Ping'an, who had been standing in the Sword-Cutting Cliff pavilion.
Chen Qingdu raised his arm, lifting the head a little, and turned to smile. "Who will return the courtesy for me?"
Ning Yao stepped forward, but a hand pressed on her shoulder.
Chen Ping'an said, "I'll go."
Chen Qingdu grinned. "Not afraid to waste your only chance like this? Then what about the next big battle?"
Chen Ping'an smiled. "We'll talk about that when the time comes."
Chen Qingdu casually tossed the Ascension realm great demon's head into the air. "Go all out and fight well."
A figure in blue robes leaped onto the city wall, then stepped into the air and ran down the wall, finally stopping abruptly as if rooted to the ground. He crouched slightly, and with a loud bang, shot like an arrow toward the southern land, exactly catching the falling head. With one hand carrying the head and the other behind his back, he landed lightly on the ground.
On the ground, the child flicked his toe, catching the dust-covered sword immortal's head in his hand, and walked forward slowly.
The two stood about a hundred paces apart.
Chen Qingdu snorted derisively. "The outcome below will decide between you and me who takes one sword strike. How about it?"
The gray-clad old man nodded. "Why not?"
On the field, the two facing each other, the child grinned and extended his hand.
Chen Ping'an directly threw out the great demon's head. At the same time, the child raised his arm and, intentionally or not, tossed the sword immortal's head high into the air.
The child did not reach for the Tuoyue Mountain fellow disciple's head but stomped on it, patted the bloodstains on himself, leaned forward, and crossed his arms. "You look too light. Not enough to fight!"
But the young man in blue robes caught the head, held it in front of him, and gently wiped his hand across the unknown great sword immortal's face, closing his eyes.
But that very action was a huge opening.
After the child threw a punch, the figure in blue robes was sent flying back several dozen zhang, carving a shallow trench in the ground, but he remained standing.
The child stood exactly where the young man had been, nodded, and said cheerfully, "Not bad. You can play with me a bit longer."
Chen Ping'an turned his head to look. The sword immortal's head vanished from his hand. The great sword immortal Yue Qing tucked the head under his arm and clasped his hands in salute to the young man.
The child laughed. "Now it's your turn to throw a punch. One chance. After that, I'll go all out, and you'll die very, very quickly. Much faster than Ning Yao's worthless parents died."
Chen Ping'an turned to look at the child, then lowered his head, rolled up his sleeves. The corners of his mouth curled up, and finally, more and more smiles spread across his face. But his eyes grew increasingly calm and cold. The things he had been suppressing in his heart—just let the dragon raise its head from the well.
So when he finally lifted his head.
It was a young face with a ferocious smile.