Chapter 648: Breaking Through Casually
Earlier, when Ning Yao had gone out alone to breach the formation, the vanguard of the demon army had stalled and refused to advance. But after Ning Yao had cut through their ranks and led six sword cultivators to the vicinity of the golden river, the demon forces on both sides of the battlefield suddenly sped up their charge, doing their best to stay far away from this female "sword immortal" whose sword was far too fierce.
At this moment, Ning Yao seemed to be acting as a supervising officer "holding the line," and the demon army charged forward with all their might.
So Fan Dache, who had been the first to fly off on his sword and leave the two of them, inexplicably ended up in a strange situation where he, a Golden Core sword cultivator, was alone, pursuing a vast horde of fleeing demons.
Fan Dache felt that just for this alone, he would deserve to drink a pot of the most expensive Green God Mountain wine when they got back. With enough battle merits, he finally wouldn't have to borrow money from Chen Sanqiu to buy wine.
Chen Ping'an glanced at the front of the battlefield. The rear formations of the demon army were becoming thicker and denser, pressing forward at great speed. And the higher the realm of the demon cultivators, the further they stayed away from the three of them—or rather, in truth, they only stayed away from Ning Yao alone, not him and Fan Dache. He said, "Because of us, the sword cultivators on both sides will be under a lot more pressure."
Ning Yao replied, "Then let's try to meet up with the frontmost sword cultivators as soon as possible. The specifics—how do you want to go about it?"
Chen Ping'an stood on that long sword from the Sword Workshop, growing more accustomed to flying low to the ground on his sword. He quickly rolled up his sleeves. "This time, I'll open the formation, and you'll cover the rear. Once any Golden Core or Nascent Soul demons show up, they're yours to handle."
Ning Yao asked, "Not planning to summon your flying swords?"
"Just using my fists. It should be just the thing to polish my martial bottleneck," Chen Ping'an said.
"Don't worry. My speed at opening formations definitely can't compare to yours, but compared to other parts of the battlefield, it won't be slow."
Ning Yao nodded. "Then just use your fists."
Chen Ping'an took a deep breath. His sword flew like a rainbow as he caught up to Fan Dache and spoke to him through heart voice: "Dache, you stay in the middle and use your sword. I'll open the formation ahead. No matter what happens, don't worry about it—just keep flying forward on your sword. I might not be able to watch out for you too much, but with Ning Yao covering the rear, it shouldn't be a big problem."
Fan Dache said in a low voice, "Got it!"
Actually, when the Second Shopkeeper didn't add that "Ah, Dache," Fan Dache knew he needed to be extra careful.
In an instant, Chen Ping'an, wearing two Dharma robes from the Garment Workshop, suddenly accelerated his sword flight. In a straight line, he shot forward with a whoosh.
While flying on his sword, still about a hundred zhang from the demon army ahead, Chen Ping'an had already taken up his fist stance. He stomped down, and the sword beneath him tilted and dropped, unable to bear the weight, becoming a true low-flying glide. In Fan Dache's eyes, Chen Ping'an's figure vanished from its original position in an instant. He clearly hadn't used the Inch Talisman for Earth-Contracting Step, yet it already had the effect of that talisman. Could it be that, having only reached the Golden Body stage of a martial artist a little over a year ago, he had already broken through another bottleneck to become a Far-Wandering stage grandmaster?
This time, Ning Yao chose to fly on her sword as well and explained to Fan Dache, "He's still only at the Golden Body stage, not the Far-Wandering stage. Wearing three Dharma robes isn't about preserving his life anymore; it's just to suppress his fist intent. Combined with a certain degree of sword energy suppression, the three interact, which counts as a kind of training. It's like those martial arts performers in the jianghu who tie sandbags to their legs all day long."
Ning Yao was willing to say this much.
Of course, because it was about Chen Ping'an.
And because Fan Dache was a common friend of hers and Chen Ping'an's, and Chen Ping'an took the most care of Fan Dache. It wasn't just because Fan Dache's realm was insufficient; it was as if in Fan Dache, Chen Ping'an could see many shadows of his own past—bits and pieces that, when pieced together, naturally drew him close.
As for the specific reasons behind this, Ning Yao couldn't figure it out. She believed that when Chen Ping'an had free time later, or when the Hidden Officer could finally steal a moment of leisure, he would naturally tell her.
Ning Yao added, "When he first started learning martial arts back in his hometown, he tied bags filled with small stones to his legs. On his first journey out, he used Half-Jin Talismans and Eight-Liang Talismans. He's been used to this for a long time. He himself doesn't even know what would happen if he threw a full-force punch. Since he doesn't know how heavy or fast his punch is, his opponents know even less."
As she spoke, Ning Yao slashed out with her sword. Elsewhere on the battlefield, a Golden Core demon cultivator had glanced at her from afar. Sensing this, Ning Yao's sword immortal strike cut through the line like a knife through tofu. The targeted demon cultivator's body split clean in half, slamming apart to both sides. His Golden Core exploded, causing countless casualties among those nearby.
Ning Yao suddenly recalled a small matter.
She remembered that when Chen Ping'an was still a youth, carrying the locust-wood sword box containing two swords, he had come to the Sword Qi Great Wall to find her for the first time. During their time alone together, he liked to make small talk, telling her about all sorts of village and market affairs—like how a carpenter snaps a chalk line, and how skilled master carpenters could snap it very accurately.
Ning Yao rarely took the time to look at the battlefield after a strike. It did look rather like that.
Fan Dache had no idea how to respond.
In truth, standing beside Ning Yao, the pressure was unimaginable.
His good friend Chen Sanqiu had once privately told Fan Dache that when he and friends like Diezhang were one realm lower than Ning Yao, it was actually still bearable. But once both sides were at the same realm, it really made one doubt their own life. Am I really a sword cultivator too? Is my realm even real?
But at the time, Fan Dache had watched Chen Sanqiu leisurely drinking wine and complaining, all the while with a smile on his face.
The Second Shopkeeper had once said that wine was the best fishing rod under heaven, able to hook the words from the bottom of a drinker's heart to their lips. Especially the wine from our family's Bamboo Sea Cave Heaven—it was even more remarkable.
Perhaps being able to be friends with Ning Yao made even a child of destiny like Chen Sanqiu feel pressured, yet also worth drinking joyfully.
Fan Dache carefully watched the surroundings of the battlefield. It looked empty, seemingly without danger, but Fan Dache still worried that beneath the earth, some cunning demon cultivators might be hiding, ready to stab him with a sword or hurl a treasure at him.
Such things happened often on the battlefield.
Fan Dache had once witnessed a sword cultivator of similar age and excellent talent, who made a single careless move. A Mountain-Moving demon cultivator, hiding underground, had calculated his sword flight trajectory in advance. Bursting out of the earth, he grabbed the sword cultivator by both ankles and tore him in half. On the battlefield, the truly most terrifying enemies were often not the powerful demons who suppressed a certain area with their bottleneck realms and killing power. Facing them, unless it was a death ground, one could simply avoid their edge. What was more terrifying were those demon cultivators whose original intention was not battle merits, but merely to polish their own Dao. They attacked insidiously, excelled at disguise, always sought a single lethal blow, and killed without a trace. If their strike missed, they retreated decisively. These kinds of demon cultivators thrived on the battlefield, living long lives, secretly roaming various battlefields, and their accumulated war merits were often quite impressive.
It was said that the youngest Upper Five Realm sword immortal in the Wildlands, the great demon named Shou Chen, had risen step by step precisely through this insidious method.
What was even more frightening was that even after Shou Chen had become an Upper Five Realm sword immortal, he still enjoyed acting in this ghostly manner—concealing his great demon aura, deliberately suppressing his sword immortal aura, always appearing on the battlefield as a Golden Core demon cultivator, waiting for an opportunity.
Because of this, during one battle, A Liang had personally tracked Shou Chen's movements. Eventually, A Liang found him and sent a sword strike from afar. But Shou Chen himself was a sword immortal, and at the time, he also used a protective talisman given by his master. In the end, he managed to escape.
Fan Dache suddenly froze.
Wasn't his Second Shopkeeper just like that? And he could be considered at the level of a master of this trade?
It was just a pity that he had become the Hidden Officer of the Sword Qi Great Wall.
Otherwise, even if the Second Shopkeeper didn't serve as his protective array sword master, if Chen Ping'an were allowed to roam freely across various battlefields alone—being a sword cultivator, a pure martial artist, and possessing that kind of fine control over battlefield details, as well as his precise calculation of the combat power of friend and foe in a certain area—then whether it was accumulating war merits or his growth speed, he would not be inferior to that great demon Shou Chen in the slightest.
Ning Yao's sword immortal style was, of course, breathtaking and inspiring.
But no matter how much one revered or admired her, Ning Yao was just Ning Yao. None of her peers on the entire Sword Qi Great Wall could learn to be Ning Yao.
However, the Second Shopkeeper's style of dealing with enemies was something even Fan Dache could learn. As long as one had the intention, witnessed it firsthand, listened more, watched more, and remembered more, one could turn it into one's own use and refine their cultivation. On the battlefield, even an extra fraction of a chance to win could often help a sword cultivator deliver a fatal blow to some unexpected threat.
On the battlefield ahead, Chen Ping'an stopped flying on his sword. He actively threw himself into the thick of battle, landing right in the middle of a dense encirclement of demons.
His fist stance opened wide. A vast fist intent surged like a river flowing, similar to how Ning Yao had earlier used her sword energy to form a small world.
Those who were careless or dared to approach would first have to contend with his fist intent.
One demon, whose body was naturally as large as a pavilion, had awakened its apertures to become a cultivator. It had two natal objects specifically used to stack protective divine abilities, relying on its naturally powerful physique to dominate the battlefield.
But Chen Ping'an simply used his fist to clear a path. Like a long sword, his whole body cut the thing in half. The surging blood was shaken away by his fist intent.
Striking a thousand times is not as good as a single thrust.
Chen Ping'an used only one punch against his enemies.
One man charging into the formation, surrounded on all sides by foes.
He still strove to kill with a single punch, damaging the root and shattering the soul.
Every punch seemed to conserve strength, but in truth, each one was extremely heavy and forceful, charging forward without looking back. The purity of his fist intent was such that it vaguely made the surrounding sword energy actively avoid him.
One demon cultivator, unable to dodge in time, was huge in stature, two zhang tall. He swung a great hammer down at Chen Ping'an.
Facing the legendary Ning Yao, he might have only been waiting to die, but facing this "youth" before him who had no flying sword and only extremely high fist techniques—at least he didn't lack the will to fight.
Chen Ping'an raised one hand to catch the descending hammer. His entire figure was cast in shadow. He shifted his ankle slightly, redirecting the massive force into the ground. Even so, the impact drove his knees deep into the earth.
He could have dodged but didn't, deliberately taking the heavy hammer head-on and even slowing his movements slightly. This was to let the lurking demon cultivators think they had an opportunity.
One military demon cultivator, clad in fine-iron talisman armor, approached Chen Ping'an with a large sword in both hands, striking with tremendous momentum.
Another Golden Core cultivator produced two golden talismans from his sleeve, one depicting the true forms of the Five Sacred Mountains and the other a winding river. He then reached out with one hand and made a heavy lifting motion.
The earth around Chen Ping'an was first sealed by the Golden Core cultivator's spell, turning into ice that sealed an area of several dozen zhang.
The mountain-shaped golden talisman manifested five colorful miniature mountains, each only the size of a fist. Four of them hovered beside the young martial artist, while the central mountain from the talisman smashed toward his head.
Chen Ping'an, still holding up the heavy hammer with one hand, raised his left hand and directly seized the black Dharmic blade, whose miasmic energy was thick like ink. The pure fist intent in his palm clashed with the black blade light, sending sparks flying in all directions.
He twisted his wrist, dragging the military cultivator—who refused to release his sword—toward him and into the impact of the miniature mountain formed by the golden talisman.
The hammer-wielding demon, having already fulfilled his bait role, found his hammer unable to press down any further. He temporarily withdrew his weapon, raising his arm high to strike again.
The military demon cultivator saw the situation was unfavorable. He didn't want to be hit by the central mountain nor accidentally smashed by the following hammer. He decisively released his sword and retreated, kicking the youth in the chest to propel himself backward.
The next moment, Chen Ping'an, who had been using Zhu Lian's ape-style fist stance, abruptly switched to Zhong Qiu's peak fist stance. The "youth," who had seemed slightly hunched in the shoulders and back with a stooping posture, immediately returned to a normal stance. His fist intent changed, becoming even more profound. He directly shattered the surrounding spell sealing, then punched the miniature central mountain. When his fist touched the small mountain, a wild ripple of fist intent exploded, shattering the mountain into a spray of golden light.
Chen Ping'an, still holding the Dharmic blade near its tip in his left hand, slid backward, dodging the second hammer strike from the huge demon.
He pulled the Dharmic blade back slightly with his left hand, then turned his right fist into a blade-hand and chopped down, cutting the Dharmic blade in half. This caused the military demon, who had originally planned to self-destruct this offensive natal object, to instead lose his chicken and rice. He spat out a mouthful of heartblood. Glancing at the youth still trapped in the formation of four mountains, this military cultivator directly flew away from this battlefield on the wind.
The four miniature mountains formed by the golden talisman, though small, hovered in the air, still possessing the imposing aura of mountains standing upon the earth.
They trapped the black-robed youth and the hammer-wielder within the formation, but the absence of the central mountain was a slight deficiency.
Fortunately, the other golden talisman had turned into a water serpent several zhang long, finally forming a pattern of mountains settling and water flowing.
The huge demon, who had been dragged into this desperate fight with the youth, no longer clung to his life. On the battlefield, those who fear death are sure to die, but those who are not afraid of death might not die.
The huge demon, wielding his hammer, burst into a ferocious frenzy. Within the four-mountain formation prison where a water serpent was attacking, he charged straight at the youth whose fists were unreasonably heavy. He would trade his life for the youth's if possible!
In the end, his chest was smashed apart by the youth's fist, but before that, the talisman water serpent's repeated charges had already ground the huge demon's flesh and bones to a pulp. It seemed even the Golden Core cultivator hadn't anticipated this outcome—a mutual destruction where "my fellow Daoist dies first, and then I die too." After the youth had killed the huge demon with a punch, he lightly tapped his foot, leaped high, grabbed the latter's head, and slammed it into the water serpent. The huge demon chose to self-destruct his Golden Core, his body and soul annihilating together with the water serpent.
The Golden Core cultivator stared carefully. The youth tore off his broken Dharma robe, revealing another Dharma robe from the Garment Workshop underneath.
The face mask on his face was also broken beyond repair, so the youth casually tore it off and put it away in his sleeve. Even the hammer on the ground disappeared, stored into his Inch Object.
Without hesitation, the Golden Core cultivator abandoned the four-mountain talisman, used a unique spell to turn into several streams of green smoke, and fled underground in different directions.
Chen Ping'an didn't deliberately pursue this Golden Core cultivator. With one less Dharma robe restricting his fist intent, his fist force became even more abundant. He pushed back the four tottering miniature mountains and, while charging forward, delivered four distant punches. Four beams of golden light burst apart. In the blink of an eye, nearly a hundred demons were killed or wounded on the battlefield.
Without the face mask, someone in the demon army was the first to shout out the word "Hidden Officer!" The army, which had been trying to form a formation to resist under the supervision, collapsed into a panicked rout.
After that, Chen Ping'an's route for opening the formation was no longer a straight charge. He chose to draw a large circle on the battlefield, then made a slight shift forward. The faster he fled, the more he killed with his punches ahead.
With the pure true qi of a martial artist, he punched continuously until it was nearly exhausted. Then he found a chance to catch his breath. If the situation was dangerous, he forced himself to hold on with one more breath.
On the battlefield, surrounded by enemies on all sides, could it compare to being fed punches by a Tenth Stage martial artist? Dealing with the latter was truly living on a thread. Even so-called tough physiques were like paper under the fists of a Tenth Stage martial artist, who would often deliver peak Ninth Stage punches! You could only rely on guessing, on gambling, on instinct, and even more on the human following the fist with a divine, heart-connected intuition.
For Chen Ping'an, as long as there was no Nascent Soul sword cultivator assassin lurking nearby, the so-called "one man charging into formation" wasn't really a battlefield at all—it was just a series of one-on-one duels.
Li Er had once said that during his near-accidental killing of Song Changjing in that duel, the Da Li princely lord's talent was certainly good, but at the time, his fists were still too light. However, the reason Song Changjing had held out so long was that he wasn't just a martial artist; he was a warrior tempered in the battlefield. Having honed his fist techniques on the battlefield for so long, he had naturally developed an aura of "one man worth ten thousand on the battlefield." Once he had thoroughly refined that, returning to simplicity, his opponent would feel as if fighting a thousand-strong army, becoming constrained.
Now, Chen Ping'an was on the battlefield, seeking the first level of this kind of aura. Amid thousands upon thousands of mountains and rivers, how many great mountains and vast waters could actually get close?
As long as his punches were heavy enough, his movements fast enough, and his eyes sharp enough, it was just a matter of wading through water and climbing mountains, "slowly" passing each place.
After that, Chen Ping'an, now in full swing, became even more pure. Whether walking or flying, every step was the Six-Step Walking Pillar. His only punches were the three styles: Iron Cavalry Breaching Formation, Divine Being Drumming, and Surging Clouds Over Great Marsh.
Although Li Er was a Tenth Stage martial artist, when it came to fist principles, during the feeding of punches at the Lion Peak Immortal Mansion ruins, he didn't say much. Occasionally, he would speak a few sentences and frankly admit that he had just heard them from Zheng Dafeng, who often muttered them. Li Er told Chen Ping'an that these words might be useful to him. After all, a few words of fist principle had no weight and couldn't pressure anyone.
Among them was this phrase: "Only strike when there is an enemy in your eyes; when there is no enemy in your intent, you approach the divine. The ultimate fist technique is everywhere within the method, yet at every moment, the method is unobstructed."
During this opening of the formation, Chen Ping'an would neither cruelly kill those roaring ferocious demons with his fists, nor show mercy under his fists to those young demon cultivators full of fear and pleading eyes.
A pure martial artist only punches.
Those with high technique live; those with light fists die.
On the battlefield, the martial artist Chen Ping'an's expression was calm.
His eyes were cold.
Ning Yao only gave Fan Dache one reminder: "Don't get close to him."
Chen Ping'an's thoughts grew fewer and fewer. He set aside all his usual worries and considerations, infinitely approaching the state Li Er had called "forgetting the self, remembering the fist."
He didn't use Earth-Contracting Talismans, nor did he summon First or Fifteen. He didn't even deploy the Pine Needle or Coughing Thunder that could guide his form.
As for his two natal flying swords, Cage Sparrow and Well Bottom Moon, they were for much greater purposes and definitely wouldn't be revealed so early.
At this moment, Chen Ping'an had even completely forgotten that he was a sword cultivator with four flying swords, let alone that he had two natal flying swords.
Where the demon army was densest, his fist intent arrived before his person.
Ning Yao was still seeking out those high-realm Golden Core and Nascent Soul demons.
Fan Dache still had nothing major to do. Fortunately, compared to when Ning Yao had been opening the formation earlier and everyone just followed her on their swords, this time with Chen Ping'an opening with his fists, Fan Dache had more opportunities to use his sword.
Earlier, when Ning Yao had charged alone with her sword, she had opened the formation too quickly.
On the north-south lines on the left and right flanks, the two groups of sword cultivators fighting their way down from the Lower City were still far from this golden river. They hadn't even reached the halfway point, and the further they went, the slower their formation-breaking and enemy-killing would become. It was very possible that before reaching the halfway point, they would need to retreat to the Sword Qi Great Wall, to rotate with the second wave of sword cultivators resting on the city wall to handle this war of attrition littered with corpses.
Elsewhere on the vast battlefield between the golden river and the city wall, the group of sword cultivators currently advancing southward fastest had only barely pushed to the halfway point, and that was only because the Nascent Soul sword cultivator Qi Shou had helped lead the way.
The four of Diezhang returned north, joining forces with the dozen or so sword cultivators advancing south on the adjacent line, one at the head and one at the tail, to entangle and kill the demon army.
The four young genius sword cultivators stood in a line, each about seventy or eighty zhang apart. They no longer pursued the speed and depth of formation-breach, but began to kill as many demons as possible. So the four of them each stepped onto their flying swords—Town Yue, Red Dress, Scripture, Purple Lightning—and in a sword-flying posture, summoned their respective natal flying swords, killing their way back to the Sword Qi Great Wall.
Chen Sanqiu's natal flying sword was called "White Deer." One of the flying sword's innate divine abilities was the scene of "White Deer Holding Lingzhi." On the battlefield, a white deer as large as a house would appear. The lingzhi it held was Chen Sanqiu's natal flying sword. The white deer was naturally covered in sword light, like snow falling all around, and could autonomously gather spiritual energy, making it quite remarkable.
On the battlefield, the white deer, whose entire body shone like snow, rampaged wildly, its killing power immense.
It was said that before Chen Sanqiu had conceived his natal flying sword, during a childhood afternoon dream, a deer had wandered before him, knelt on all fours, and voluntarily acknowledged him as its master.
Thus, Chen Sanqiu was known among the younger generation of the Sword Qi Great Wall for his elegance and charm, and he definitely had the capital for it.
Good family background, good temperament, good looks, good connections, good talent and bone structure—except for the young Master Chen's slightly poor drinking manners, he was almost without flaw.
And the White Deer, a divine creature, was often somewhat connected to the elusive scholarly fortune. So it complemented the "Scripture," one of the Da Li dynasty's imitation of the Jade Capital's suppression ancient swords, which Chen Sanqiu had obtained. Because Chen Sanqiu's natal flying sword was one of the rare few possessing two innate divine abilities. Besides manifesting the White Deer when the flying sword was summoned, it could also invisibly increase Chen Sanqiu's scholarly fortune. So Chen Sanqiu was actually both a natural sword embryo and a born seed for study.
It was said that in the Bright World, among the Confucian sages with sword immortal realms, in the Three Great Academies and Seventy-Two Academies, there were only two now.
Unfortunately, Chen Sanqiu was born on the Sword Qi Great Wall, where there were few scholars. Most importantly, Chen Sanqiu's surname was Chen, so he couldn't go to that foreign land filled with schools and the sound of reading.
Those sword cultivators who could earn the title of genius on the Sword Qi Great Wall all had their stories.
Any sword cultivator who liked to drink could get dead drunk, and even if they drank themselves to death, they'd have a reason.
Ning Yao followed not too far and not too close, watching Chen Ping'an, who was only throwing punches.
Ning Yao vaguely sensed a thought from Chen Ping'an—a thought that even Chen Ping'an himself might not be fully aware of at the moment.
*If my fists reach beyond the heavens, then on the southern battlefield of the Sword Qi Great Wall, those who oppose me, Chen Ping'an, need not even use my sword; they will all die.*
Ning Yao didn't think that was a bad thing, but she also felt it might not be the best. The reason was simple: He was Chen Ping'an.
So Ning Yao called out, "Chen Ping'an."
On the battlefield, Chen Ping'an immediately stopped his punches and turned around, looking a little confused.
Fan Dache felt his sword heart waver for a moment, but it was a strange feeling, here and gone in a flash.
Ning Yao said, "Keep punching. I'm behind you."
Chen Ping'an was taken aback, not understanding why Ning Yao would say that. Still, he smiled and nodded.
The Garment Workshop Dharma robe he had borrowed from Pang Yuanji was already broken and put away. The one he wore now was so torn it wasn't worth keeping, so he lightly scattered it with his fist intent, like dandelion seeds flying into the distance.
Not only that, he also put away the cyan Ning Manor Dharma robe, so now Chen Ping'an was only wearing a robe of the most ordinary material.
Chen Ping'an took a deep breath and spat out a large mouthful of stagnant blood. Unbeknownst to him, within a radius of several dozen zhang centered on him, there were no longer any living demons on the battlefield.
Chen Ping'an shook his wrist with one hand and lightly clenched and unclenched his fist with the other. The white bone of both hands was exposed, which was perfectly normal. The pain was certainly there, but this long-missed familiar feeling instead put him at ease.
If you don't endure some pain, why practice martial arts? Why cultivate?
Chen Ping'an looked into the distance. Finally, he raised his gaze and saw the large character carved on the city wall, one he knew all too well.
Fierce.
The character was truly ugly.
Chen Ping'an unconsciously looked up at the canopy of heaven.
You can be late, but don't not come.
Even if it's just to return to your half-hometown of the Sword Qi Great Wall for a look—that would be enough. Whether to use your sword can be decided once you're here.
Chen Ping'an reached out to grab, but then remembered that the long sword from the Sword Workshop had already shattered.
So he took from his Inch Object the Dharmic blade taken from that Mountain-Moving Nascent Soul demon. It was long and sharp, with a clear, gem-like light.
Chen Ping'an gripped this masterless Dharmic blade. Its rank was extremely high—a first-class Dharma treasure. He lightly weighed it in his hand. It was heavy enough. So he would continue opening the formation.
A moment later.
Fan Dache couldn't help but turn to look behind him.
Ning Yao was rubbing her brow.
And ahead of them, Chen Ping'an was wildly slashing with the blade.
Fan Dache felt that this was probably what it meant to be a bandit-killer.
In an instant.
Ning Yao struck out with her sword.
Not to save Chen Ping'an, even though the one ambushing him was a well-hidden Nascent Soul sword cultivator assassin.
And cooperating with this, choosing to assassinate Ning Yao, was the earlier Jade Purity stage sword immortal who was skilled in concealment.
For typical mountain immortal couples, if the higher-realm partner faced such a choice—even if they wouldn't go to save the lower-realm partner—they would inevitably hesitate for a moment.
But Ning Yao had no distracting thoughts. Instead, her sword heart became even clearer and brighter.
She could kill the enemy. He could survive.
Ning Yao trusted herself, and she trusted Chen Ping'an even more.
In that instant, Ning Yao, who had been deliberately suppressing her realm at the Golden Core bottleneck for many years, casually broke through to the Nascent Soul bottleneck.
Even after striking with her sword, Ning Yao could still spare a glance at the city wall.
Chen Qingdu stood on the city wall with his hands behind his back, a hint of a smile on his face.
Beside him, Wei Jin said with a bitter smile, "Old Sword Immortal, why did you deliberately suppress Ning Yao's breakthrough?"
Chen Qingdu chuckled, "No rush. No need to deliberately compete for those vain titles, becoming the first sword immortal under thirty in history. Is that necessary?"
Wei Jin, who had become a sword immortal at forty, still didn't understand. "Ning Yao wasn't forced into growth; it was a natural progression. Old Sword Immortal, you used the entire sword Dao of the Sword Qi Great Wall to suppress Ning Yao at the Nascent Soul bottleneck. Why?"
Chen Qingdu said with a grin, "Am I Wei Jin?"
Wei Jin was left speechless.
He somewhat missed the days when Senior Zuo You was on the city wall.
The implication of the Old Sword Immortal's words: "Are you Chen Qingdu?"
Chen Qingdu continued, "Suppressing with the sword Dao? You underestimate that girl Ning."
On the Wildlands side, the gray-robed old man, no matter how fierce the battle, paid it no heed. He just kept his eyes closed, resting in his First Class Tent.
At this moment, the old man opened his eyes and directly spoke to Chen Qingdu with a smile: "This is breaking the rules, isn't it?"
Chen Qingdu replied, "Not happy? Come up to the city wall and have a fight?"