Chapter 614: Why So Talkative
Cultivators who have attained the true Great Dao have one advantage—it seems there is no such thing as eternal separation and death. As long as fate allows, they can reunite after long years apart.
What is ten thousand years? Hadn’t he seen Chen Qingdu again, and Chen Qingdu had seen him again?
The only difference was that he stood on this side of the River of Time, at the ferry, while Chen Qingdu stood on the opposite shore.
The child didn’t look at that unknown young man at all. Instead, he raised his head to gaze at the city wall, where an old man with his hands behind his back stood—that was Chen Qingdu, known as the Oldest Sword Immortal.
Ever since he had awakened his intelligence, his master and senior brothers had never hidden anything from him. So Chen Qingdu was not only an old acquaintance of his master but also an old acquaintance of his own.
Back then, the three most senior, most highly skilled, and most lethal exiled sword cultivators had traveled together on a distant journey. They took advantage of the fact that the foundations of the Great Dao in the Barren Wild World were not yet stable—the movements of the sun, moon, and stars, and the changes of the four seasons and solar terms, had not yet become fixed principles. Regardless, at that time, his master was still the recognized master of the Great Dao in the Barren Wild World. Chen Qingdu, along with Guan Zhao and the Dragon Lord—both leaders among the exiles—had risked being trapped in a situation where both celestial and terrestrial advantages suppressed their sword techniques. Yet they still carried their swords to Mount Tuoyue. This was essentially challenging the entire Barren Wild World with their swords.
As for that battle, whether in process or outcome, the Barren Wild World had never recorded it in history, and those who knew the inside story could be counted on one hand. The child had heard an oral account from a senior brother who was a direct disciple of Mount Tuoyue. At that time, within a radius of tens of thousands of miles, the world was truly turned upside down. Mount Tuoyue itself was reduced by half as a result—that was the last sword strike delivered by the owner of that tattered robe. As for the earliest prototype of the present-day Yeluo River, it was said that he himself had cleaved it open with a single sword stroke, leading to its later splendid vista.
But he himself had suffered the worst. His soul was incomplete, scattered in all directions. The mountain guardians of Mount Tuoyue through the ages had always had a secret task: to gather his scattered soul. Even now, they had only managed to collect one original soul and one original spirit, patching together the rest with scraps. As for his physical body and remains, they had long since completely annihilated, with no possibility of reconstruction. In this regard, he was actually less fortunate than the Dragon Lord, who at least had left behind a solid head. Unfortunately, that head was often stepped on for fun by that great skeletal demon he himself had named Bai Ying. When the demon was in the mood, he would pour out wine from his cup and use some minor esoteric techniques to create a puppet with battle power equivalent to a Great Sword Immortal. Unfortunately, the child couldn’t learn this technique; otherwise, once the Sword Qi Great Wall was breached, wouldn’t there be endless fun?
But strangely enough, although the Dragon Lord had lost one soul and two spirits, his intellect was mostly preserved. As one of the earliest human sword immortals who had once followed Chen Qingdu to campaign across the four corners of the world, he never showed his true face. He didn’t even take back the head that rightfully belonged to him, allowing Bai Ying, whose killing power was roughly equal, to trample on his skull, turning a blind eye. Yet toward his old friend Chen Qingdu, he harbored an inexplicable, deep-seated hatred.
The child yawned, raising his hand, waiting quietly for the other party to make a move. The outcome was already decided long ago—really no fun at all.
After looking at Chen Qingdu, he turned his gaze to the young woman standing at the edge of the city wall.
Ning Yao.
She was a young sword cultivator well known throughout the Barren Wild World. It wasn’t so much about her current realm as her future realm, which determined her status in the eyes of many great demons in the Barren Wild World.
What is a genius?
It’s like—if you just leave them alone for a few days or years, that “future” will arrive, in the blink of an eye, with no accidents, no what-ifs.
He was like that. And that half-breed carrying the Mohist mechanism “sword rack” on his back—he counted as half. His name was odd: Bei Qie.
But Bei Qie’s master—that was truly remarkable.
Even his own master had said, “It’s a pity his temperament isn’t overbearing enough, preventing his sword technique from reaching the absolute pinnacle. Otherwise, the most suitable person to suppress the Sword Qi Great Wall would be precisely him.”
He had heard that in the Central Plains of the Righteous Qi World, there was also a young man studying boxing, named Cao Ci, who was the same kind of person as him.
The child stepped on the head of that Flying Ascension Realm great demon—nominally still a direct senior brother from the same Mount Tuoyue lineage—but in the prison on the Sword Qi Great Wall side, he had probably suffered too much damage to his physical body, wasting too much of his cultivation, which was why Chen Qingdu had casually yanked his head off. However, though the Flying Ascension realm was unstable, the physical body was still that of a great demon from the Barren Wild World. If it were himself now, even carrying several immortal weapons and hacking away for years, he wouldn’t succeed. Chen Qingdu was indeed very formidable. This time, following his master out of the mountain to visit the Sword Qi Great Wall, he had seen so many people on the brink of death, and all those on the city wall were so-called Upper Five Realm sword immortals—truly a worthwhile trip.
This child, already twelve years old but still looking like a young boy, thought many things in the span of a few blinks on the battlefield. He patted his mouth and said, “I’ll deliberately not kill you, kindly leaving you half alive. Then will Ning Yao come down to replace you and finish this fight? If so, then you’re really lucky. From now on, both worlds, or even four worlds, will remember you—the first opponent in my coming-out battle, and you didn’t die.”
The old man with a long pole across his shoulders, riding a flying sword, had long ago used the divine ability “Hibernating Half-Dead” to swallow more than a dozen towering mountains of the Barren Wild World into his belly, and had been in deep sleep for thousands of years. He chuckled softly to the woman in dragon robes beside him, “Is this child acting on a whim, or did he get instructions from the ancestor?”
The woman shook her head. “The ancestor has eyes only for Chen Qingdu and the entire Sword Qi Great Wall. He has no interest in such trivial matters.”
As the master of the Yeluo River and thirty-six other rivers that stretched for ten thousand miles, she had not fallen into deep slumber. Or rather, the scarlet serpent that originally had a path conflict with her would not allow her to cultivate in peace. The two sides had been fighting to the death for three thousand years, with countless disciples and descendants dead on both sides. But their own cultivation levels remained unscathed and even steadily improved. The troops they lost were great supplements to them—much more cost-effective than occasionally sneaking away to devour a great demon and ruin their reputations. Every eight hundred or thousand years, they would have a battle. It was called a battle, but in reality, they would jointly isolate a small world, reveal their true forms, and create some earth-shaking commotion. Mostly, they would just fight their own battles, occasionally smashing one or two half-immortal weapons and a pile of donated junk treasures. When they got bored, they’d break the small world, deliberately make their true forms look bloody and battered, and that would be their explanation. After all, both sides knew well that their combat power wasn’t vastly different. If they truly fought to the death, many of their peers on the Ancient Well Thrones wouldn’t mind joining forces to devour them. Especially that skeleton—he loved to act sneakily, digging three feet into the ground, causing many great demons who were hiding to heal their wounds to die silently without a trace. In fact, they were being refined into puppets. So Bai Ying’s apparent combat power wasn’t high, but his assets were deep, unfathomably deep.
The old man with the flying sword lightly patted the long pole with both hands. “That’s somewhat interesting. I like this child. When he reaches the Righteous Qi World, I must give him a meeting gift.”
The woman in dragon robes, who was half a Dao partner to him, teased, “The ancestor’s final disciple—are you qualified to give gifts?”
The old man laughed. “Whether he accepts is his business; whether I give is mine. If he doesn’t accept, one pole strike and his soul scatters. Then we start over—the Righteous Qi World is famous for its splendid treasures. What difficulty is there in piecing together bones and souls? Maybe when the child appears next time, his talent will be even better than now. The ancestor will have to thank me for helping him out. A master personally killing his disciple would harm the bond after all.”
The child, originally named “Guan Zhao,” suddenly grinned. For his first battle out of the mountain, it would be better to have Ning Yao as his proper opponent.
Sure enough, he got his hint.
The handsome great demon with a beautiful gourd for nurturing swords tied at his waist, after glancing again at Ning Yao on the city wall, also thought that having Ning Yao fight would yield more rewards. So the great demon slapped his sword-nurturing gourd, and a streak of sword light shot out, heading straight for the troublesome young man—only if Ning Yao died beneath the city wall would he have more chances to peel off that little girl’s face skin. Ning Yao’s face skin, along with the Azure Mountain God’s wife and the martial female deity Pei Bei, were all great beauties he was determined to obtain.
After that streak of sword light left the gourd, it went straight in a line. Though called a line of sword light, in truth it was as thick as a well opening. The sword energy was so abundant that it shredded countless strands of sword energy and sword intent that had been flowing uncertainly between heaven and earth. The sword light was so fast that by the time it was about to hit the young man in the blue shirt, a wide trench several zhang deep had already been torn open on the ground.
Did they follow battlefield rules? Did they care about the identity of a peak great demon?
The Barren Wild World didn’t have such concerns.
Back then, during the Thirteen Disputes, the Barren Wild World lost. Which great demon, including Chongguang, took it seriously?
Only those sword immortals and the Righteous Qi World did.
After breaching the agreement, the two great demons who had sworn heavy oaths for the Barren Wild World died on the spot.
Was the Barren Wild World losing much?
If they could trade lives with the sword immortals of the Sword Qi Great Wall, what did it matter if a few more great demons died on their side? The Barren Wild World could afford the deaths. What had always troubled the Barren Wild World was that, relying on the impregnable Sword Qi Great Wall, the top sword immortals could advance and retreat freely. Every sword immortal who could be wounded but not killed and fight again next time was the most troublesome! Realm regression was considered the greatest calamity on the path of cultivation in both the Barren Wild World and the Righteous Qi World. But for sword cultivators of the Sword Qi Great Wall, realm regression was almost never called regression!
After the great demon slapped the gourd and sent out a sword strike, he began waiting for the result, which would only determine who won more and who won less.
If that young man died, then the ancestor’s disciple would continue fighting—and wasn’t Ning Yao still there? The people on the Sword Qi Great Wall cared about face, that stubborn kind of face-saving.
If Chen Qingdu became displeased and chose to strike at him, the ancestor would surely not be ambiguous. Then they could just start a chaotic battle, saving both sides trouble and effort. What harm would it be to fully open the war’s prelude?
On the city wall, Chen Qingdu was neither pleased nor displeased. Before the great demon even slapped the gourd, he had already said with a smile, “Zuo You, as the senior brother, it shouldn’t be hard to make a clean and tidy battlefield for the junior brother, right? If the other side really oversteps, you can leave the city wall, and I’ll personally hold the line for you.”
Zuo You nodded.
Then, before that streak of sword light, on the ground in front of the blue shirt, tens of thousands of strands of sword energy suddenly shot up into the sky, smashing the surging sword light on the spot.
“So he’s making a move? Isn’t I the opponent?”
The great demon who had been overseeing thousands of magnificent towers and palaces landed, but did not collect the painstakingly gathered ancient immortal mansions—large and small—that revolved around him, slowly rotating like stars moving beside an immortal. The great demon slowly raised his hand, and a fist-sized ancient white jade hall swept toward the sky above the battlefield, suddenly expanding to cover the sky and sun, crashing down on both the ancestor’s disciple and the young man in blue, showing no distinction between friend and foe.
Zuo You drew his sword. His sword intent was far from vast; it was nearly still and motionless. He simply casually swung his sword downward.
That jade hall, as large as a mountain peak, was split in two. Not only that, but sword energy splattered everywhere, reducing the hall to dust. Giant rocks shattered, and jade fragments fell like heavy rain.
The great demon, looking like an immortal, didn’t show the slightest regret. He clapped his hands and laughed heartily, “Excellent sword technique! Enough substance to it.”
The great demon turned to the big-bearded man, who carried both a saber and a sword on his back, and asked, “How about this? That sword cultivator standing beside Chen Qingdu—do you want him disposed of by you?”
The big-bearded man said indifferently, “On the battlefield, let Zuo You kill you first. Then I’ll avenge you. If you want to thank me, shut up, or else you’ll have the Sword Qi Great Wall to thank me.”
The great demon sighed mournfully, “Even if I kill Zuo You, it’s still a losing deal. After all, no matter how good those memorial archways of the Chen family’s Pure Confucian school in Suozhou are, they’re just new objects. These treasures I’ve collected over the years—each is a beloved item, unique in the world. Once they’re gone, they’re gone. Where can I find replacements? Indeed, you sword cultivators are more straightforward—when fighting, you never bother about gains and losses.”
On the city wall, Pang Yuanji looked somewhat angry and said in a deep voice, “These great demons are deliberately helping that little beast create a suffocating atmosphere to suppress Chen Ping’an’s state of mind!”
Chen Sanqiu’s expression was grave.
This was the battlefield on the Sword Qi Great Wall side. Those who charged into battle for the sake of pride or grudges rarely ended well. The demon race of the Barren Wild World loved sword cultivators who acted on impulse.
Once battle began, even if you were an Upper Five Realm sword immortal, if you thought you could turn the tide with one man and one sword, you would only find it hard to be satisfied, letting the demons achieve their goals and handing them one or even a chain of battle merits.
Many great demons would deliberately set traps, grabbing severely wounded sword cultivators, moving slowly to tear off limbs, throwing them into their mouths to chew, or slowly ripping off skin and pulling out tendons. All kinds of gruesome sights, unbearable to behold. The captive sword cultivator would suffer worse than death—their souls imprisoned and suppressed, even suicide would be a luxury. The great demon did this to lure more sword cultivators away from the Sword Qi Great Wall into the deep hinterland for slaughter. When a sword immortal struck, other great demons would instantly surround him, splitting the battle merits afterward. History was full of such bloody lessons.
A young, heaven-prided sword cultivator would be captured. Elders or teaching sword cultivators would go to rescue him, only to die. Sword immortals would go, and die. Friends of the sword immortals would go rescue them, and still die.
In the end, the young sword cultivator died last. Some young sword cultivators who suffered this disaster were never actually killed by the great demons. With incomplete limbs and broken flying swords, they were carelessly thrown to the ground by the great demon, who then ordered all demons to take a detour, leaving the heaven-pride to the Sword Qi Great Wall. Often, young sword cultivators whose natal flying swords were shattered or whose Longevity Bridges completely collapsed met this fate. They would either gather a bit of strength on the battlefield to commit suicide, or be carried away from the battlefield to kill themselves later near the city.
The Barren Wild World only cared about victory and defeat, life and death, never about the process.
Ning Yao said, “Then they will regret it.”
Zuo You gently grasped the drawn sword in his hand, its tip pointing directly at the great demon who had summoned the jade hall.
Before the line where the gray-robed old man and the fourteen peak great demons stood, huge whirlpools suddenly appeared, each with a sword tip breaking through the void, slowly emerging.
It was as if a total of fifteen small worlds had been added between the Barren Wild World and the Sword Qi Great Wall.
In the Righteous Qi World, the sword cultivator Zuo You was effectively challenging all the great demons at once with his sword.
In the Barren Wild World and the Sword Qi Great Wall, regardless of realm, both sides knew deep down that on the battlefield today, the more conspicuous one was on the Sword Qi Great Wall side, the greater the likelihood of dying in the next great battle. Those who could avoid death were courting death. Those who could have died slower would die faster.
First Chen Ping’an.
Then Zuo You.
The lineage of the Literary Saint in the Righteous Qi World—truly never one to reason.
The golden-armored, burly man suddenly revealed his enormous true form. The golden armor on his body expanded accordingly, still firmly suppressing this great demon. The armored man reached out to block the sword tip, pushing both the long sword and the whirlpool backward. Eventually, both the sword and whirlpool shattered together. Splashes of sword energy hit the armor, but the man didn’t even glance at them. He only looked down at a slight flaw that appeared on his golden palm—a gap—but it was quickly covered and filled by thick golden light converging from other parts of his finger. The burly man was greatly annoyed. He reverted to human form, but thinking it over, he decided that in the next great battle, this Zuo You, whose sword technique was not low, must be handled by him alone.
On that line, the great demons with Ancient Well Thrones each used their divine abilities. Some punched to disperse both the flying sword and whirlpool.
Some made great disturbances, shaking the earth. For example, the sword immortal standing beside the skeletal great demon Bai Ying—it was sword against sword, with blade tips of vastly different sizes colliding, sending countless sparks flying like a brilliant rain of fire falling to the ground.
Some great demons employed profound techniques, likewise raising a small world to collide with the opponent.
The big-bearded man didn’t act personally, only ordering his disciple to rise on a flying sword to parry the attack.
The Confucian-robed man handled it most effortlessly. He allowed the huge flying sword to emerge from the whirlpool and charge straight at him. Then the flying sword in midair automatically reduced its sword energy, and its size drastically shrank, eventually becoming the size of a tiny pocket sword, hovering before the Confucian-robed man. He pressed his two fingers together, smiled faintly, and casually flicked. The flying sword reversed its tip and shot toward a very distant part of the Sword Qi Great Wall, vanishing in an instant.
The Confucian sage sitting at one end of the city wall also flicked his two fingers, sending the flying sword into the rolling white mist formed by the illusory River of Time of the Barren Wild World. Then, in the next moment, it inexplicably fell straight down from above the head of the Confucian-robed man in the south. That man smiled, raised his sleeve, and the flying sword instantly dissipated. The sharp flying sword, tinged with a trace of the River of Time’s aura, thus returned to heaven and earth.
On the battlefield, the child had never paid attention to the breaking of that sword light from the gourd behind him, nor the subsequent shattering and scattering of the white jade hall after being struck by a sword from the city wall.
But when the sword light from the gourd was destroyed and the jade hall exploded, the battlefield around the two became chaotic with sword energy, causing a slight blurriness in the child’s vision.
The child curled the corner of his mouth and gently kicked away the great demon’s head that was originally under his foot, sending it far off to avoid getting in the way. A dead direct disciple of Mount Tuoyue was no longer worthy of being called senior brother.
The child withdrew his foot, then just stood still, neither dodging nor evading.
So the other side was finally willing to make a move—truly a mild-tempered, good-natured sort.
Being so cautious was meaningless. Once he left the city wall and faced him, it was hard to survive, easy to die.
But then he thought about how to dispose of the corpse and soul to lure Ning Yao on the city wall to take the initiative to come down, fight him again, and both die together—he found it somewhat troublesome.
Chewing on limbs and gnawing at faces? That sort of thing, he really couldn’t do. He wasn’t some demon race with a massive true form stretching hundreds or thousands of zhang. Even if he opened his mouth as wide as possible, how long would he have to chew to disgust people? And he was afraid that before he disgusted others, he would be disgusted half to death himself. Moreover, he was only a half-baked sword cultivator with an unstable soul. Just practicing swordsmanship was already exhausting. He hadn’t learned any immortal techniques that used the soul as a lamp wick.
Now that he had named himself “Li Zhen,” he thought that fighting should just be fighting. But when he actually got to the battlefield, he found he had to think about so many unnecessary things. He regretted not having been more diligent in practicing swordsmanship before, and then he was secretly amused by the jealousy and resentment hidden in the hearts of some senior brothers and sisters.
Li Zhen looked around, absent-minded.
His opponent was passable—a sword cultivator with two natal flying swords.
One flying sword was extremely slender and sharp, like a needle and thread, with an ancient aura, carrying a hint of the rustling of pine waves. It resembled those sword immortals’ flying swords with low killing power but quick kill speed.
The other natal object had an aura of interwoven thunder and lightning, completely unconcealed, unwilling to hide. This was more like those sword immortals renowned for their killing power.
No wonder the Oldest Sword Immortal had placed heavy bets on him—he had some small skill.
But there was a little oddity. Having summoned two natal flying swords at once, he didn’t use them to kill the enemy. Instead, he closed in himself, and quite fast at that.
The child was a bit troubled. He had too many external items. After leaving Mount Tuoyue with his master, he had been busy receiving gifts. First, senior brothers and sisters insisted on giving, then great demons whose names he couldn’t remember eagerly gave. Did they really think he was a trash collector? It was seriously delaying his cultivation. Unexpectedly, today they finally came in handy. Otherwise, with higher realms, he would have to deal with a pile of junk every few years—unwilling to give them away and regretting throwing them away. So his master was right: cultivation shouldn’t be too slack. It wouldn’t be too late to slack off after reaching the Upper Five Realms. At least, if he learned that divine ability of “sleeve universe,” things would be much easier—mountains of treasures wouldn’t matter. A senior sister who had now gone into seclusion once said that the Righteous Qi World was so rich it was unimaginable. Immortal sects were as numerous as cow hairs. Those cultivators, young and old, high and low in realm, were all very clever and even more afraid of death. For the sake of not dying, they would disregard everything. When he got there, testing their hearts would be very fun.
The child hesitated, then decided not to hesitate. He would take this one move from the opponent. If the opponent had the skill to bring out a third flying sword, he would take that too. If there were immortal heavy treasures, let them smash on his head.
But giving way on this move didn’t stop him from setting up for the next. It wasn’t boasting to say he would let the opponent die quickly.
So the child stood still, indeed. Within a radius of ten zhang, the ground rose by an inch, like raising a modest earthen platform. Then, in an instant, from all directions—not only on the battlefield but also near the Sword Qi Great Wall’s city wall, and high into the air hundreds of zhang above the wall—a certain pure sword intent, of the same origin as the Dao, not sword energy, condensed into substance without warning. Within this platform, it crisscrossed like silk threads winding, countless strands. Under the sunlight, each line of snow-white sword intent shone brightly, weaving a cage that seemed to imprison the child.
The blue shirt did not choose to close in for a deadly struggle. An instant before the cage appeared, he seemed to have sensed the anomaly in heaven and earth and altered his trajectory. But he did not stop or stand still; he only slightly slowed his form, like a wisp of green smoke or a wandering ghost, drifting outside the child’s ten-zhang boundary, never approaching that sword-intent-laden cage. In his hands, he held stacks of talismans, endless, casually tossing them out, letting them drift with the wind, or embedding them into the surrounding ground. From time to time, some yellow paper talismans would approach the earthen platform that had risen slightly, only to be silently cut into ever smaller pieces by the still sword light formed by the condensed sword intent, finally scattering in fragments on that platform.
Li Zhen was somewhat disappointed. “You don’t even dare to trade lives with me? You’re a sword cultivator who really lacks spirit. I gave you a rare chance to die generously, and you didn’t take it. I’m not a relative, and we don’t have the custom of burning yellow paper at Qingming here—what are you doing?”
Li Zhen walked slowly, and the entire cage moved with him. The sword intent that had been scattered between heaven and earth gathered more and more, the cage growing larger. For some reason, outside the Sword Qi Great Wall, many ancient sword intents of the same Dao but different origins chose an extremely rare stillness at this moment. They neither followed that sword intent to join in its pollution, nor did they strongly oppose or intercept it.
Two old sword immortals who had inscribed large characters on the Sword Qi Great Wall—Chen Xi and Qi Tingji—spoke through heart transmission: “It is the residual sword intent left here long ago by the predecessor ‘Illumination’ [Guan Zhao]. For ten thousand years, it has never favored any descendant of the Sword Qi Great Wall. No wonder.”
Qi Tingji frowned and sneered, “Predecessor? This kind of filthy character who would betray the Sword Path for the sake of his own sword technique reaching the peak—is he worthy of being called a predecessor of ours?”
Chen Xi didn’t want to dwell on this matter. He sighed with emotion, “Luckily Chen Ping’an ran fast. If he had been caught inside, even a Nascent Soul sword cultivator would have had to abandon his body to have a slim chance of survival. But then, how could he continue fighting?”
Qi Tingji looked into the distance. “Chen Ping’an’s fist intent, to reach his own peak, requires a process of gathering and releasing. That little brat isn’t idle either—he’s good at creating opportunities and seizing them. Otherwise, he wouldn’t have played this hand so easily from the start. The other half of the sword intent would have blocked it. Fortunately, Chen Ping’an isn’t losing too much. Such an opportunity to temper true fist intent by borrowing the Great Dao of heaven and earth is rare. This sword formation, after all, is only temporarily borrowed; it won’t hold long.”
Chen Xi shook his head. “Don’t forget what identity the opponent now has. He won’t lack good treasures to carry with him.”
Li Zhen strolled leisurely on the battlefield, smiling. “One move is done. You can’t just keep wandering around like this. Don’t think that by staying far from me, you can set up your talisman array freely. Don’t you know you’re very annoying? Do you really think I only have it in me to stand and be beaten?”
The child shook his sleeve, and a translucent Dharma seal rolled out, which he stomped through the earthen platform, sending it crashing to the ground below.
Then he threw out a broken sword with only half its blade left, no scabbard, rusted, with turbid sword light.
Then from his sleeve, he shook out a small, exquisite bronze pagoda, seemingly an imitation of the White Jade Capital in the Azure Sky World. But the pagoda was on the verge of collapse, with obvious cracks, looking somewhat useless—more like a disposable item after being used once. The pagoda fell, and because it was extremely heavy, it sank directly into the earth without a trace.
Li Zhen walked without stopping, each time doing the same. Every time he dropped an immortal treasure, he stepped on it and left it where it fell. As he walked and dropped, he said, “Every step I take is a small flaw, and a kind reminder that your flying sword can’t break through the sword formation. At least you could take the opportunity to steer your flying sword, drill a hole, and try to poke me from below. But you, ungrateful, just wait to die. Fine, let’s see which runs out first—your Qingming yellow paper or my treasures sweeping your grave.”
Once, Li Zhen threw out a scroll. It fell to the ground without unrolling, but that didn’t hinder the treasure’s function. Still, the child crouched down and spread it open—it was a tattered painting of the Eighteen Sword Immortals.
Only then did Li Zhen stand up and continue walking, lifting his feet slowly but covering over ten zhang in one step.
Whenever Li Zhen moved, the nearest lines of the sword formation would automatically avoid his hands and feet. Li Zhen didn’t even need to move his mind.
Just like that, Li Zhen took a leisurely walk, dropping a treasure every three or four li. Finally, when the quality became too poor, he didn’t bother taking them out to embarrass himself. Li Zhen finally stopped. He extended two fingers and pinched a slanted strand of sword intent that had been hovering a foot in front of him. He gently rubbed it, making a humming sound, and said with a smile, “The former exile ‘Illumination’ [Guan Zhao]—how exactly did he ascend in sword art? Now, even I find it hard to imagine. In the early days, apart from Chen Qingdu, what other great figures did he walk with on the sword path, using human strength to overcome heaven? Unfortunately, I can’t remember anymore.”
The blue shirt stood twenty zhang ahead. Finally, he had stopped running. Yes, it was probably unnecessary now.
Li Zhen didn’t know whether to call this person foolish or stupid.
Just because the sword formation around him was about to disappear? Did he really think the formation was meant to protect him from flying swords and talismans?
Li Zhen asked, “By the way, what’s your name?”
Seeing that the other showed no intention of answering, Li Zhen said helplessly, “What’s wrong with you? In many books that have spread from the Righteous Qi World to the Barren Wild World, fights between experts are very open and honorable. You declare your fist technique, I shout my sword move. The ant-like onlookers just ooh and aah, marveling—so lively! Then when you use your ultimate skill, everyone is dumbfounded, speechless—silence that speaks louder than words. Look at you. Are you worthy of all those sword immortals watching from the city wall? Because you choose to be mute, I can’t even muster any enthusiasm.”
From the beginning of Li Zhen’s words, the sword formation had already begun to waver. The crisscrossing pure sword intents started to dim. But they didn’t return to heaven and earth; instead, they transformed into cloudy spiritual energy, slowly streaming into the child’s acupoints.
Li Zhen burped, exhaling clouds of mist that were relatively turbid remnants of old sword intent, expelled from the small world of his body.
A Great Sword Immortal saw this and turned to look at the Oldest Sword Immortal.
Chen Qingdu shook his head and smiled, “What is his is his. If he seeks death, he will die.”
Li Zhen chuckled, “During the dissipation of the sword formation, there were six small flaws and two large flaws. Could you still resist not striking? Do you think I talk too much? I find you annoying, and you probably find me even more annoying, right?”
Li Zhen’s smile faded, his gaze turning cold. He snapped his fingers. “Coincidentally, I’ve also finished my formation. Even an Upper Five Realm sword cultivator would be in serious trouble. So now you can go die.”
Between heaven and earth, along the path Li Zhen had walked, a long string of pale golden characters appeared, varying slightly in height, some more, some less, intermittent, but eventually linking into a line. The pale golden characters looked like talisman true words written on golden paper. They were the very words Li Zhen had spoken earlier—some he had said aloud, but through the fleeting scene, it was clear Li Zhen also had many unspoken thoughts that became visible. Most densely clustered were the places where the Five Thunder Dharma Seal, bronze pagoda, rusty broken sword, immortal painting, and other treasures had fallen.
On the earth, a huge golden lightning bolt formed a crooked great circle, encompassing the battlefield of both sides for a hundred li around.
Higher than the Sword Qi Great Wall, clouds gathered, thunder roared, echoing the thunder pool on the ground.
At the same time, the Five Thunder Dharma Seal began to rise slowly, shining brightly.
A hundred-zhang pagoda stood, radiant with flowing light.
The broken sword exploded, its fragments lining up one by one along the edge of the lightning pool.
The eighteen sword immortals on the painting slowly stepped out. Though suppressed by heaven and earth and sword intent, their forms were only the size of mustard seeds, but each “true intent of a sword immortal” still flowed with abundant sword energy, hovering close to the ground, suspended on flying swords, like a natural circuit of sword energy. Finally, these eighteen mustard-seed sword immortals each took charge of guarding a treasure.
Because the numerous treasures that Li Zhen had seemingly casually thrown from his sleeves each manifested different phenomena.
Why so talkative? Naturally, because his treasures were too many.
His cultivation was still not high enough, so he had to supplement with magic treasures, half-immortal weapons, and immortal weapons.
Li Zhen stopped yawning and stopped speaking. His expression calm, he looked at the young man opposing him.
In one hand, he held a sword pellet, spinning rapidly, with no sign of treasure light flowing—yet it was an immortal weapon.
In the other hand, he also held a fist-like grip, but this one wasn’t an immortal-grade sword pellet. It was a talisman that was the ancestor of the later Five Sacred Mountains True Form Chart.
The Sword Qi Great Wall, and in ages even older than its construction, sword immortals had always preferred human strength to overcome heaven.
Now, you first endure the heavenly tribulation.
After the heavenly tribulation, the earthly tribulation.
After the earthly tribulation, Li Zhen had another meeting gift: to inquire with a sword, as a Barren Wild World sword cultivator, against a Sword Qi Great Wall sword cultivator.
So behind Li Zhen, several black-robed immortals, several zhang tall, appeared—ethereal, shifting—only the long swords in their hands were condensed with sword intent, their sword light dazzling.
Among them, one sword immortal stood out, taller than the rest, with a clear face and an expressionless demeanor, the most stable in form. It was the ancient human sword immortal, Guan Zhao.
Li Zhen frowned.
He saw that the blue-shirted traveler had one hand behind his back and the other hand in a fist in front of him, his gaze burning. His blue shirt no longer had rolled-up sleeves. Amid the celestial and earthly tribulations condensing into gale-force winds, his wide sleeves fluttered, billowing as if filled with clear wind, making them appear extremely large and wide, like a blooming lotus of a deep green, almost black as ink. He asked with a smile, “Is that all?”