Chapter 867: Sword Beheading the Flying Ascension Peak
(There will be another short chapter in the evening.)
With one sword thrust, the many demonic illusions blocking the path ahead all dissipated.
The primary culprit stationed at Tuo Yue Mountain, at the peak of the Flying Ascension realm, was not only a pure sword cultivator, but his lifebound flying sword had even imitated a portion of the divine abilities of the two high-ranking gods, the "Imaginer" and the "Echoer."
City God Shen Wen's golden literary courage pearl shattered with a bang, his face full of regret, as if he regretted handing over that pearl back then.
The white-robed monk turned sideways, leaning back slightly, twirling the Buddhist beads in his hand, and studied the young Hidden Official from the corner of his eye, a playful smile on his face as if to say the mountains are high and the rivers long—until we meet again.
The green-clad woman with a ponytail neither dodged nor avoided, letting the sword light cut straight through her.
Tuo Yue Mountain was split in two, a huge, unbridgeable chasm appearing in its middle. For a long time, it was unable to restore its original form.
At the same time, the giant demon body manifestation of the culprit wielding the sword was also cut open by that single sword strike. On one half of the face, far apart, a look of surprise appeared for the first time.
Clearly, this sword from Chen Ping'an was vastly different in quality from the more than three thousand swords he had delivered before. It was no longer confined to the level of sword techniques but was brimming with sword intent, even showing the embryonic form of a certain sword path of its own.
So much so that along the persistent trajectory of the sword light, it forcibly hindered the culprit's method of merging his Dao with Tuo Yue Mountain's wheel of time.
On both sides of this "path" that split the mountain, the spiritual energy of heaven and earth for a thousand miles, even the feng shui and the fortune of the seasons, were all crazily drawn in, like two surging tides filling the Dao defects brought by the chasm.
It was as if one sword had created a realm beyond the heavens, where the movement of the Dao was clearly demarcated.
Compared to the culprit's situation, the three demon cultivators at the Immortal realm in the mountain were in a far more miserable state.
The giant demon centipede that had previously coiled several times around the mountain peak had the most pitiful outcome. Unable to escape in time, this Immortal realm demon, whose primordial spirit had already been severely wounded, had its body, along with Tuo Yue Mountain, cut open. Its Nascent Soul tried to flee with the Golden Core, but was shattered by the sky-obscuring sword light. Its corpse, broken into several segments, rolled down the mountain, and thus it perished with its Dao extinguished.
Of the other two Immortals, the one sitting on the seven-colored lotus cushion had a withered, dried humanoid skin, tottering in a flood of sword qi. The cushion beneath him had lost its luster, and the Immortal's form drifted with the wind, changing from a vigorous, ancient-looking middle-aged man into a gaunt, skeletal old man.
The other, a female demon cultivator, had her armor embroidered with golden threads and copper nail patterns, along with the Immortal's lantern, all shattered. Her still exquisite face was now covered in countless cracks, like a long-dry field. The landscape within her personal microcosm was in a similarly grim state, almost completely drained.
If she had fought the Hidden Official one-on-one and lost and died, that would have been one thing. But this disaster today felt as if the young Hidden Official and the culprit had conspired to kill them—these cultivators in the upper five realms. How could she accept this willingly? Thus, this female demon cultivator, who had carved out her own territory in the Barren Wastes, was filled with great hatred: hatred for the Hidden Official's ruthless swordplay, and even more hatred for the insidious means of the culprit, the first disciple of Tuo Yue Mountain's Grand Ancestor, who had deliberately imprisoned them here.
Even though she had a life-continuation lamp in her ancestral hall that could reshape her body and allow her to be reborn like a corpse, she had still lost a considerable portion of her soul. Moreover, although the continuation lamp could be lit, the crucial Golden Core and Nascent Soul of a cultivator could not be taken away. Therefore, relying on a continuation lamp to restart cultivation was considered the lowest form of ascension by corpse-shedding in the mountains, almost always resulting in a drop to below Earth Immortal level. Especially for demon cultivators in the Barren Wastes, once they lost their naturally strong and tough demon bodies, their Dao loss was greater than that of Qi refiners in the Haoran world.
This female Immortal, whose Dao name was Fanlu, was now like a wild weed, swaying unsteadily in the wind. The sword qi gale caused her soul to suffer greatly. The sound of her face and body shattering was like a series of tiny firecrackers. She reached out to wipe her face, and all she got was the ashen gray of Dao extinguished. Despair filled her heart. Clenching her teeth, she stared fixedly at the first disciple of Tuo Yue Mountain outside the mountain. "This disaster today, which has led to the deaths of over a dozen fellow upper five realm cultivators, is all your fault, culprit! Good, what a good name you've chosen for yourself—you are the chief instigator of the Barren Wastes!"
The culprit paid her no heed.
He only glanced distantly in the direction of the Yeluo River.
The woman, now nearly insane, suddenly burst into laughter. Raising her arm, from which ashes were constantly falling, she patted her own head. "Come on, Hidden Official, one more battle achievement for you! Just make sure you kill this culprit and shatter Tuo Yue Mountain! To die at the hands of the last Hidden Official of the Sword Qi Great Wall wouldn't be too bad..."
A bolt of golden lightning descended rapidly from a Thunder Array, utterly destroying the female Immortal cultivator's body.
The only remaining Immortal realm cultivator stood up from the lotus cushion, looked around, and said with a bitter smile, "I never imagined dying like this. A bit frustrating."
A demon cultivator who had never even been to the Sword Qi Great Wall would die here at Tuo Yue Mountain, especially at the sword of the Hidden Official—that would be a huge joke if it got out.
The culprit withdrew his gaze and looked at a certain place beyond the two layers of heavenly and earthly restrictions.
These demon cultivators who had died one after another in the mountain were trying to escape, yet there was a sword cultivator who had taken the initiative to intrude into Tuo Yue Mountain's territory.
It was an old demon sword cultivator at the Nascent Soul realm, who had rushed over hastily. He was flying on his sword, controlling a lifebound flying sword that split into thousands of swords, trying to chisel a door through the mountain and water restrictions.
Unfortunately, in this battlefield, it was still like a thin stream with limited water, crashing against a towering mountain—destined to be futile.
The old sword cultivator could not break through the double restrictions of Tuo Yue Mountain and the Caged Sparrow, and kept shouting from outside.
The culprit looked at Chen Ping'an. "There's a sword cultivator who wants to exchange his life for yours. What do you say? If you agree, I'll let him in."
Chen Ping'an twitched the corner of his mouth.
A Nascent Soul realm cultivator, even a sword cultivator, trying to exchange his life for an Immortal realm? Was that overthinking it? Did such a deal exist in the world?
Lu Chen sighed. Our Lord Hidden Official, cautious indeed, sure to sail the ship for ten thousand years.
The culprit smiled. "That sword cultivator is named Hui Ting. He's from the Red Leaf Sword Sect."
It was only then that the culprit's manifestation of form finally closed up, and Tuo Yue Mountain returned to its original appearance.
Unexpectedly, that sword intent trajectory, ignoring the reversal of the river of time, still pierced through Tuo Yue Mountain, its reality and illusion constantly shifting, emitting a dazzling seven-colored light. It was the brilliant Dao resonance caused by the collision of the river of time and the mainstay. Fragments of time-patterned glass, varying in size, were splattered along the sword path and near Tuo Yue Mountain, each as fast as a meteor, small as a fingernail, large as a copper coin. They scattered in all directions, directly streaking beyond the boundary of Tuo Yue Mountain's thousand-mile grand formation, crashing against the invisible barrier of the Caged Sparrow microcosm, finally shattering and having to return to the river of time.
This was enough to show the immense killing power of Chen Ping'an's earlier sword.
It also meant that this sword had left an irreparable corridor of sword qi in the culprit's personal microcosm of mountains and rivers.
It was as if Chen Ping'an had split open a river of sword qi similar to the Yeluo River with one sword.
The culprit continued, "You should have heard of the name Hui Ting. He was once a Jade Pu realm sword immortal, but he lost his realm twice on the battlefield. Most recently, a hundred years ago, he shattered his lifebound flying sword 'Rouge' and has been recovering from his injuries ever since, so he missed the last great battle."
The culprit was not worried that Chen Ping'an would break his promise or cheat. If he had intended to deceive, he would have opened the door directly earlier.
Hearing "Red Leaf Sword Sect" and "Hui Ting," Chen Ping'an narrowed his eyes and nodded.
He knew. How could he not know this famous demon sword cultivator?
In the Summer Palace records, it was very detailed. Not only did this demon sword cultivator love to go to the Sword Qi Great Wall to join in the fun and accumulate battle merits—twice losing his realm on the battlefield—but this sword cultivator, who possessed the flying sword "Rouge," also loved to ambush female sword cultivators on the battlefield, using them to refine his sword and nurture a certain flying sword divine ability.
He had once assassinated an injured female sword immortal.
Her name was Song Caiyun.
She was the one that the two old sword cultivators, Zhao Geyi and Cheng Quan, had been thinking about their entire lives.
In fact, Song Caiyun could have withdrawn from the battlefield at that time, but halfway, she encountered a group of young sword cultivators in a desperate situation. To save them, she gave Hui Ting, that demon sword cultivator at the Jade Pu realm who was lying in wait, the opportunity he was looking for. He used his lifebound flying sword "Rouge" to kill her with one strike.
Among the young sword cultivators she saved was a once sunny and easygoing youth named Yin Chen.
Very well. The other party was offering himself up. This deal was on.
Chen Ping'an was the first to open a path through the Caged Sparrow microcosm. Following that, the culprit opened Tuo Yue Mountain's grand formation, allowing the Nascent Soul realm sword cultivator to enter the battlefield.
The Immortal who had been waiting for death saw the familiar sword light and said helplessly, "Hui Ting, are you stupid?"
He would definitely be giving his head to the young Hidden Official for free.
As for the bit of spiritual energy and sword Dao fortune after his old friend's death, it would naturally be taken by the culprit.
Although Hui Ting did owe him his life—precisely one and a half—having saved him once and helped him greatly once before, the matter of exchanging lives should not be taken seriously.
But the old sword cultivator from a sword sect in the Barren Wastes ignored his friend. He just flew on his sword, hovering at the boundary of the microcosm, and looked up at the ten-thousand-zhang manifestation of form wearing a lotus crown. "Are you Chen Ping'an, the successor of Xiao Xun and the new Hidden Official?"
That rustic name, Chen Ping'an, the old sword cultivator had heard so much of in recent years that his ears were numb.
Over at the Red Leaf Sword Sect, there was a junior sword cultivator who was highly anticipated. He had been listed among the Hundred Sword Immortals of Tuo Yue Mountain. His rank wasn't high, but he had had the fortune to visit the Sword Qi Great Wall and the Haoran world. He had been injured in Tongyezhou and returned to his homeland early to recover at the sect for several years. Every time he mentioned the young Hidden Official, he spoke with great admiration, considering the fact that they never had a chance to cross swords as one of the greatest regrets of that long journey.
Whether at his own mountain or outside his visits, it was much the same—very annoying.
Chen Ping'an turned his head to look at the sword cultivator, who was as small as a mustard seed.
Hui Ting sensed the young Hidden Official's intense killing intent and laughed loudly. "Is my life worth something?"
Chen Ping'an said calmly, "It's not worth anything. You just deserve to die."
The culprit smiled.
If he remembered correctly, this was only the second time Chen Ping'an had spoken formally after appearing at Tuo Yue Mountain? And compared to the simple word "okay," this time there were many more words.
Lu Chen smiled. "Respecting the strong, pitying the weak. This culprit is actually quite interesting. It's a pity you're on opposing sides. Otherwise, if you met by chance in some other world, you might even drink at the same table."
Of course, this so-called "respect" in the Barren Wastes was somewhat different.
And the so-called "pity" was relatively easier to understand—meaning the culprit letting Chen Ping'an spare those ant-like cultivators in the nearby sects.
A fierce sword light fell from above, slicing down vertically from the demon sword cultivator's head.
The sword light rose again, slicing horizontally across his waist.
The manifestation of form waved its sleeve, and a miniature floating Thunder Array appeared beside the old sword cultivator, choosing to use the Five Thunder True Law to slowly refine his soul to death.
The key point was that within the Thunder Array, two glittering golden characters were forced to appear—the demon sword cultivator Hui Ting's true name. The light caused by his true name flickered unsteadily, like a candle in the wind.
Forcibly extracting the demon's true name?!
Lu Chen suddenly felt a shiver down his spine. It wasn't that he had never seen anything more cruel—he had seen plenty.
But when the swordsman was Chen Ping'an, it sent chills down one's back.
On this kid's cultivation path, whether wielding a sword or throwing a punch, he had never liked being convoluted and circuitous. If he killed, he killed. There had never been such deliberate acts of torture.
After his earlier inquiries went unanswered, Lu Chen had grown a bit slack. At this moment, he couldn't be bothered to look through Chen Ping'an's mental images. Surely, this Barren Wastes sword cultivator who had lost his realm twice was on the list at the Summer Palace.
Moreover, it was no easy feat for a sword cultivator to reach the Jade Pu realm twice.
Not just in the Barren Wastes, even on the Sword Qi Great Wall, such cases were few and far between.
This deal was indeed a good one.
If he could also kill that Immortal, it would be even better.
Given the attitude of the giant demon culprit, since he hadn't thrown the Immortal out of Tuo Yue Mountain's territory, it was clearly waiting for Chen Ping'an to break his promise, and he certainly wouldn't stop him.
Chen Ping'an pointed his two fingers, shattering those two demon true name characters. Even if Hui Ting had a continuation lamp placed in the Red Leaf Sword Sect's ancestral hall, it would be useless now.
That Immortal realm giant demon's eyes widened. "Hui Ting!"
Chen Ping'an said, "Why aren't you leaving?"
On Tuo Yue Mountain, the gaunt, haggard Immortal quickly steadied himself. A look of disbelief crossed his face as he tentatively asked, "You really let me live?"
If he didn't believe it, fine. If he didn't leave, even better.
Chen Ping'an was silent for a moment. Seeing that the Immortal was still suspicious, he was about to activate the suspended Five Thunder Seal, but the ten-thousand-zhang manifestation of form suddenly sank heavily. With his feet stomping the ground, two huge craters appeared in the earth.
Lu Chen immediately examined Chen Ping'an's personal microcosm. To his surprise, a string of demon true names had lit up simultaneously, each belonging to a time-honored Flying Ascension realm cultivator.
Chen Ping'an swung his sword, again splitting Tuo Yue Mountain.
In an instant, the landscape grew hazy, revealing a separate realm. For no reason, Chen Ping'an found himself in a desolate-looking secret realm.
It was a long corridor that seemed to have no end. Staring into the distance, even with Chen Ping'an's current fourteenth realm strength, exhausting his vision, he couldn't see the exit.
Chen Ping'an withdrew his ten-thousand-zhang manifestation of form, and the corridor shrank accordingly. On the right side were countless doors. The other side was similar to the two far ends of the Sword Qi Great Wall in earlier times—an endless void, a river of time with no known direction. Throughout history, many sages from the Confucian Temple who had become sacrificial deities had fallen on this path. In the early days of the four worlds, and now with the addition of the fifth world of Colorful Clouds, what was called "adjacency" was nothing more than the existence of several such paths and time-crossing ferries built by the sages. Only through these could the "ascension" of grand mountain cultivators allow them to travel far, crossing worlds without getting lost in the river of time, becoming corpses beyond the heavens. In fact, the several worlds were extremely far apart.
Lu Chen frowned. "It's Bai Ze's doing. And he chose this moment to act. Is he provoking the old sword immortal? As expected of Bai Ze—he provokes even those he shouldn't."
Clearly, as soon as Bai Ze returned to the Barren Wastes, after Chen Qingdu had beheaded the ancient high-ranking god with one sword, Bai Ze reciprocated immediately. Over at the Yeluo River, he awakened that group of formidable sleepers. The ancient demons that had been in long hibernation in various secret realms were about to fully awaken.
But after breaking those hibernations, it seemed Bai Ze's own strength had diminished somewhat?
No wonder Bai Ze was so fearless. This path he had taken was truly unexpected.
Sitting in his lotus Dao field, Lu Chen performed a series of calculations, then clicked his tongue in wonder and clapped his hands with a laugh. "So that's how it is. I understand now, I understand. Bai Ze's method for combining the Dao at the fourteenth realm—such an ingenious idea, worthy of rivaling my poor Dao's Five Dreams and Seven Mental Phases."
Those at the mountain peaks all knew that the Third Sect Leader of the White Jade Capital had the profound and mysterious Five Dreams and Seven Mental Phases, so subtle that even Lu Chen himself couldn't fully unravel them.
The five dreams were: dreaming of the Confucian teacher Zheng Huan; sleeping on a skull and dreaming of the White Bone True Man; dreaming of a stinking oak tree alive; dreaming of a sacred turtle dead; dreaming of turning into a butterfly, unsure of who I am, who dreams, and who wakes.
Beyond the five dreams were the seven phases, traveling alongside Lu Chen's Dao: the wooden chicken, the stinking oak tree, the mole, the roc, the yellow bird, the yuānchú, and the butterfly, each evolving from the Dao in sequence.
If the existence of the three religious founders each determined the height of the Dharma in a particular world, then Bai Ze's way of combining the Dao was the greatest deterrent to the other worlds. Although Bai Ze was not warlike and had no interest in killing, thinking of him as a soft-hearted grand cultivator would be too naive. Ten thousand years ago, on this earth, many powerful demons who had bullied the world had died at Bai Ze's hands. As for human cultivators, whether Qi refiners or pure sword cultivators, Bai Ze had killed quite a few.
Ten thousand years ago, during that riverside council, Bai Ze had voluntarily sacrificed the demon race's interests to allow both worlds to recuperate. He had handed over the true names of a considerable number of great demons, which led to the later "Mountain Search Scroll" that circulated in the Haoran world.
But Bai Ze's move had far-reaching significance. It was as if he had drawn a bottom line for heaven and earth, ensuring the prosperity and reproduction of the demon race without them becoming too powerful to recklessly attack, leading to war spreading across all worlds. At the same time, Bai Ze absolutely would not allow any external force to completely annihilate the demon race.
Those who crossed the line, those who trespassed, would become Bai Ze's enemies, a Dao battle to the death.
Once the demon cultivators of the Barren Wastes suffered severe losses, Bai Ze's cultivation power would surge accordingly.
Chen Ping'an stood still, not in a hurry to cut through the secret realm with his sword, nor to fly forward. Instead, he switched the sword to his right hand.
Earlier, when he delivered that all-out sword strike, even with the sturdy body of a tenth-stage martial artist at the Return to Truth layer, it would probably have injured his muscles and bones.
Chen Ping'an took a gentle breath, stabilizing the landscape within his body.
Earlier, the two sleeves of spring breeze had caused the personal microcosm to resonate like a celestial-human response and an earth resonance, with spring thunder rumbling.
The sword Night Wander hovered to his left. Chen Ping'an moved his mind slightly, and the edge of Night Wander pierced into the river of time, leaving only half of the blade exposed. The sword tip cut horizontally across an illusory heavenly curtain wall. Then, relying on a thread of spiritual connection with Night Wander, he tried to determine how far the other side of this wall was. But a spell of involuntary dizziness struck him. Chen Ping'an quickly stabilized his Dao heart and retracted the mustard seed of his mind.
The path was beyond the heavens.
The reason he wasn't in a hurry was that the golden manifestation of form and the green-clad Daoist he had left behind at Tuo Yue Mountain's territory were still locked in battle. The spiritual connection between the three remained clear, like a severed yet still connected thread. Chen Ping'an could still perceive all movements of the giant demon culprit through this.
This was not the Buddhist's eighty-four thousand Dharma gates.
This seemingly endless corridor had numbers engraved on each door, from one to nine, starting from three. The nine numbers after that seemed to be arranged randomly.
"It's a technique from the mathematical schools, arranged according to the dense ratio." Lu Chen explained. "If nothing unexpected happens, when we reach the end, we'll encounter a room with no number. But if we can't provide the correct number, this microcosm will surely collapse. Its power would be roughly equivalent to... the most proud sword stroke of a peak Flying Ascension sword cultivator in his lifetime? Of course, if we're lucky enough to guess the number, we can swagger out of this secret realm."
Chen Ping'an smiled. "Dense ratio? I've heard of it. The mathematical school's ancestral hall has a mountain-protecting treasure, built using the dense ratio to create a self-circulating formation world. It can be considered the trump card of the mathematical calculation lineage. That heirloom compass is said to have been refined by generations of ancestral masters and mathematical geniuses for a full six thousand years. By the way, can that compass really freely imprison a Flying Ascension realm cultivator who is not a sword cultivator?"
Lu Chen shrugged. "That's old news. When they calculated up to the number ninety-nine thousand nine hundred and ninety-nine, they encountered a second elusive bottleneck in the Dao. The two ancestral masters of the mathematical school didn't dare to continue the deduction. They had already eaten two big losses before and were afraid of a spectacular failure, which would invite heavenly suppression and cause the precious treasure to crack. Then they met your senior brother—Embroidery Tiger—who helped them cross that heavenly moat. Of course, it was largely because Cui Chan, an outsider, didn't take that mountain-protecting treasure too seriously, so his state of mind was actually the clearest and most spotless. It's not to say his mathematical methods necessarily surpassed the ancestral masters."
Lu Chen sighed. "The reason I say it's old news is that what you just said—'excluding sword cultivators'—needs to be removed."
Chen Ping'an frowned slightly.
Lu Chen smiled. "Don't overthink it. My 'old news' also has another layer of meaning. Those two ancestral masters of the mathematical school, who were obsessed with their research, failed to make a contribution in that war—they didn't capture a Flying Ascension realm great demon or help Chen Chun'an join forces against Liu Cha. It wasn't that they deliberately stood idly by. Rather, there was a rebellious disciple with exceptional talent among their ranks. He was sinister and scheming, deliberately giving eight incorrect numbers. The several hundred numbers after that were naturally wrong. As a result, that compass developed a major problem, nearly requiring complete destruction."
Chen Ping'an remained silent.
On the path of the Dao, mountains and rivers are perilous.
Lu Chen protested, "I'm well-informed. What's wrong with that? Who does that bother?"
Chen Ping'an sneered. "Then how about we take this moment of leisure to go through some old accounts?"
For example, the Shi Rou in Qilong Alley. The Third Sect Leader of the White Jade Capital had used her eyes for too long, watching the town for many years.
Lu Chen began to change the subject. "Is the culprit just stalling for time? What's the point? Tuo Yue Mountain doesn't have legs. Is he waiting for reinforcements? Like that Bai Ze, who has returned to the Barren Wastes?"
Chen Ping'an shook his sleeve, and thousands of talisman papers flew out—the most common yellow talisman material, not a rare commodity at mountain and river ferries or immortal inns. For wandering cultivators who exorcised demons in the bustling markets, this item was indispensable. Chen Ping'an placed his palm over a talisman paper, wiped it, and in an instant, thousands of yellow talismans became completed talismans, all of the same type—mountain and river barrier-breaking talismans.
He waved his sleeve again, sending a river of talismans ahead like scouts, taking the lead in a long-distance journey.
Lu Chen hesitated for a moment, then reminded him, "Don't be too greedy or indulgent in your realm."
Once you truly become a fourteenth realm grand cultivator, any mountain gate's restrictive formations would be like entering an empty land. No matter how vast the mountains and rivers, you could shrink the earth and cross rivers at will, doing as you please.
This kind of unrestrained freedom naturally resonated with a pure sword cultivator's Dao heart.
Chen Ping'an nodded. "I need to reflect on that. It's easy to go from thrift to extravagance."
Holding a sharp blade, the murderous intent arises on its own.
When the Dharma grows plump, the world grows thin.
If a person who has attained the Dao cannot restrain even a little bit of their wild and capricious heart, they will start swatting mosquitoes and flies in their idle time, suddenly feeling the urge to kill them all.
The least consequence would be a scattered Dao heart; the worst, a descent into demonic possession.
Chen Ping'an walked slowly, then suddenly stopped. He casually opened a door and found inside two frozen images of time: one clear, one blurred. This was because Lu Chen had lent him the Dharma, causing an overlap of two different image scenes.
In one landscape scene, a child carrying a large bamboo basket was climbing a mountain. In Lu Chen's time image, he was in a boat on the sea. The boatman was that unnamed disciple, with the Dao name Xiancha, Gu Qingsong. But at that time, Xiancha looked very young, with a square face and big eyes—quite a sturdy, tiger-headed, tiger-brained youth. In a small boat, the two of them were going out to sea to visit immortals. The bow of the boat seemed to be tilting into the water, as if about to part the waves. And in the depths of the sea, there seemed to be a gentle, quiet glow waiting for this small boat.
Lu Chen smiled awkwardly. "Don't look, don't look. Be careful, or you'll fall prey to the culprit's schemes."
Chen Ping'an smiled. "Each of us looks at our own. What's there to be afraid of?"
Lu Chen said helplessly, "Saying things like that—don't you feel bad?"
Chen Ping'an noticed that the flowing river of talismans had flown for who knew how many thousands of miles. This corridor was like a bottomless ancient well.
Ignoring the futile efforts of those talismans, Chen Ping'an continued to control the sword Night Wander, constantly cutting through the invisible wall of the time barrier. He then remembered a few rare instances of unusual activity and opened a brand new ledger in his heart's lake bookstore, recording them in detail.
Lu Chen explained, "This place is a whirlpool in the river of time, similar to a return channel. The length of time and distance of the path cannot be measured by common sense."
Chen Ping'an nodded.
This kind of profound, mysterious manifestation of the Dao was a rare opportunity, a truly once-in-a-millennium chance. Even a trace more insight would be like taking a successful step on a path opened by someone else. With that first step, you would have the direction of the Dao.
That was why Chen Ping'an was probing with Night Wander.
Moreover, outside that world, a golden manifestation of form—standing on an imitation of the White Jade City—was simultaneously controlling the sword immortal banner and the Five Thunder Seal. And there was also a green-clad Daoist, similar to a traveling yin spirit, engaged in an endless water-Dharma battle with the river's enchantress.
None of them were idle.
Lu Chen asked, "The fight outside is still going on?"
Chen Ping'an nodded. "The culprit is hacking at the White Jade City."
Each time the culprit delivered a sword stroke, the stone from another mountain could be used to polish the jade.
The imitation White Jade City was too much. Some of the deep, hidden Dao flows, even Chen Ping'an—the one who had refined it—couldn't fully understand. Moreover, he didn't know much about Daoist techniques. In many areas, he knew the what but not the why. It was like a master seal engraver in the mortal world who could carve a perfect seal but couldn't claim to fully understand the inner texture of the jade.
So as long as he ensured that this immortal treasure wasn't shattered by the culprit, it was fine.
The more the culprit dismantled the imitation White Jade City with his sword techniques, the more Chen Ping'an could stand by with his hands in his sleeves, observing the Dao.
The only pity was that the imitation made by the founding ancestor of the Jade Talisman Palace was based on the old White Jade City from several thousand years ago.
Lu Chen rubbed his chin. "That's strange."
If the culprit stood still, he could help Tuo Yue Mountain last longer.
Otherwise, if he seemed to be using divine powers and unleashing techniques one after another, it would only cause Chen Ping'an to deliver dozens or even hundreds fewer swords to Tuo Yue Mountain.
Chen Ping'an said, "Of course, the giant demon culprit also wants a hearty battle, like dueling with a pure sword cultivator. Whether it's me or not doesn't matter, as long as the opponent's realm is high enough. For example, if it were Old Sword Immortal Qi, we might already be hacking at each other by now."
Later, when he left this place, he would surely let the sword-wielding culprit have his wish.
Lu Chen blurted out, "Just how many great demons with King Seat-level strength has that guy devoured?"
Chen Ping'an thought for a moment. "Many."
He repeated again, "Many!"
One of Zhou Mi's backup plans was to predict that Bai Ze would return to his homeland and willingly assist the sword cultivator Fei Ran, the nominal world ruler, in confronting the Haoran world.
Remember that Zhou Mi's yin spirit resided in that fourteenth realm cultivator Lu Fayan, whose Dao he had annexed. And his yang spirit's external body was the Dry Bones King Seat demon Bai Ying. Additionally, he had devoured a group of old King Seats, including Qie Yun, Huang Luan, Yao Jia, and others.
And that was just the results Zhou Mi had placed on the surface.
If he hadn't calculated that Bai Ze would return to the Barren Wastes, with Zhou Mi's appetite, he would probably have devoured even more Flying Ascension realm cultivators in secret.
Matters like this, probably no one but Zhou Mi—even if it were another fourteenth realm cultivator—could achieve.
Lu Chen sighed sincerely. "To a certain extent, this guy can really be considered... a sober man."
Heaven's timing, earth's advantage, and human harmony—all three were indispensable. First, he needed the tacit approval of Tuo Yue Mountain's Grand Ancestor. Second, Zhou Mi's own realm had to be high enough to have the power to kill a fourteenth realm grand cultivator.
Finally, and most importantly, Zhou Mi had to use his profound knowledge to resolve the hidden dangers of conflicting Daos. He also had to ensure that such against-heaven actions wouldn't cause the Barren Wastes' Dao to reject and suppress him, thereby weakening his own strength...
Otherwise, why wouldn't the Grand Ancestor of Tuo Yue Mountain do this himself? He could have taken that half-step, made his Dao complete and flawless, and truly entered the fifteenth realm.
It wasn't that he didn't want to; it was that he truly couldn't.
It was highly possible that Zhou Mi, who had already ascended to heaven, still had methods to strip away these "useless chicken ribs" that were now brought to the new heavenly court, completely eliminating them, so that Bai Ze could make up for the Dao loss incurred from awakening the hibernating great demons.
For example... returning all true names to Bai Ze?
Then Chen Ping'an's merging of his Dao with half of the Sword Qi Great Wall, and Needlesmith using the suture's means to help Chen Ping'an bear the true names of the great demons...
That became a key, unreasonable move.
Blocking Bai Ze, intercepting the true names.
To be precise, it was the young Hidden Official still in the mortal world stopping the divine man Zhou Mi, who was beyond the heavens.
A single-plank bridge, as if someone blocked the path, cut off the current—who else but him?
Lu Chen was full of admiration. "Earlier at the Yeluo River, Bai Ze didn't lay a hand on you. That's no ordinary master's style."
Chen Ping'an said, "If our positions were swapped, I wouldn't make a move either. If I can manage that, then of course Mr. Bai can, even more so. There's nothing to worry about."
Lu Chen was momentarily speechless. He was beginning to understand how the Lord Hidden Official got his knack for earning the favor of his elders.
Absolute perfection and mastery, unadulterated. And most importantly, sincerity!
Lu Chen hesitated, then asked, "Chen Ping'an, you're not actually left-handed, right?"
Chen Ping'an didn't hide anything. "When I was a kid, I was climbing a mountain and took a fall. My right hand was injured. It took a hundred days to heal the muscles and bones, and I couldn't work for a long time. I had to use my left hand, and I got used to it. Plus, when making porcelain and pulling the wheel, you need both hands balanced. So I'm not really left-handed or right-handed."
Beautiful scenery and valuable herbs were always in dangerous places.
Lu Chen was completely speechless. "This is a bit excessive..."
It was highly possible that Chen Ping'an's right-hand sword strikes and punches had never truly exerted his full strength. Even if they had, in the eyes of all outsiders, it had certainly been perfectly hidden.
So Chen Ping'an's well-disguised "left-handedness" was actually another layer of misdirection.
Chen Ping'an smiled. "It doesn't bother anyone."
He thought back to that year when the straw-sandaled youth from the Mud Vase Alley passed by his fortune-telling stall. Back then, he seemed so rustic. When he spoke to people, there wasn't a single strange word.
But after so many years, he was still a money-grubber.
In truth, upon deep reflection, Lu Chen wasn't surprised by Chen Ping'an's transformation.
The fewer words a book has, the more lingering flavor it leaves. On the other hand, when the number of words increases, it often becomes less resilient to careful scrutiny. But the black characters on white paper, the rights and wrongs, are all there—clear at a glance. Suffering, tempering, persistence, choices, long journeys, homecoming, disappointment, hope.
Lu Chen glanced at the sword Chen Ping'an was holding and his expression turned serious. "What's going on? Why is the boundary so distinct?"
Beyond the heavens, she had personally killed the Armored One.
Lu Chen had known of this matter when he participated in that riverside council.
After all, she had attended the council carrying a head.
Then she had casually thrown it into the river of time.
Lu Chen believed that even ten thousand years from now, he would still remember that scene vividly.
But according to his deductions, even though she had suffered considerable Dao damage in that battle beyond the heavens, she shouldn't be in such a state now. It was as if she was her, Chen Ping'an was Chen Ping'an, the sword was just a sword, and the sword holder was just a literal sword holder.
Chen Ping'an looked down at the sword in his hand. "That year, I inexplicably left the Sword Qi Great Wall and appeared in a place called the Cauldron of Creation in the sea. Later, I discovered that Senior Brother Cui had used some unknown means to sever the spiritual connection between her and me."
Apart from intentionally causing Chen Ping'an to go astray, leaving him in a fog, forcing him to repeatedly ask himself whether life was real or a great dream of delusion—a choice Chen Ping'an had to make—after the three dreams in the Cauldron of Creation, the complete severance of his connection with her was one of the keys to the fourth dream.
Cui Chan seemed deliberately to make Chen Ping'an lose this "peace of mind," teaching his junior a lesson: that all external things in the world are insufficient to serve as the foundation for a Dao heart.
Lu Chen laughed. "The Embroidery Tiger's intentions were kind. Where else could you find such a senior brother?"
"You want one too?"
"Forget it, forget it. My little arms and thin legs can't handle that fortune."
His own senior brother was very good. The Great Sect Leader of the White Jade Capital, known for his high Dharma and good temper.
Come to think of it, Yu Dou, Lu Chen, and Chen Ping'an were all disciples taken by their senior brothers on behalf of their masters.
Lu Chen said, "That should be enough. Staying here any longer won't do any good."
Chen Ping'an nodded, returning the sword to his left hand.
Beyond the corridor's world, the culprit delivered more than twenty swords in succession. He actually succeeded in severing the connections between the five cities and twelve towers of the imitation White Jade City.
The giant demon culprit finally stopped his sword, looking down at his hand, where the bones were exposed. A dazed expression flickered across his face, but it soon turned resolute. He looked up and gazed into the distance toward the Yeluo River.
Mr. Bai had finally returned home.
Now he could rest easy.
He had not failed his master's kindness, nor his homeland.
He only hoped he had not failed Mr. Bai's gift of his name.
Ten thousand years later, meeting or not meeting didn't really matter.
A sword cut through the void, and from the ripples of mist and clouds emerged a swordsman in a blue shirt, without using any form manifestation.
The culprit stood atop Tuo Yue Mountain, raising his sword. "Cross swords?"
Chen Ping'an nodded.
Both parties withdrew their manifestation forms and yin spirits.
The Barren Wastes, first disciple of the Grand Ancestor, sword cultivator Yuan Xiong.
The Sword Qi Great Wall, the last Hidden Official, sword cultivator Chen Ping'an.
The culprit tapped his toes, vanishing from Tuo Yue Mountain in a flash, heading straight for that blue shirt.
Suddenly, countless black and white lines spread out from Chen Ping'an's body. In an instant, he was completely immobilized.
It was the result of the causalities that the golden bridge had pierced through the ten-thousand-zhang manifestation form earlier, pulling them along.
This meant that the more Chen Ping'an liked to meddle on his long journeys, the less he took the reclusive life of a Dao cultivator seriously, and the more densely these causal lines emerged.
Like a silkworm binding itself with its own silk, he was overloaded.
Chen Ping'an used his mind to control the sword Night Wander, trying to cut off as many causal lines as possible. At the same time, he activated his lifebound flying sword, Well Moon, forming tens of thousands of clustered sword arrays to protect himself, slowing the culprit's approach.
The sword array shattered like fragile glass, pieces flying everywhere. Man and sword arrived before him in an instant, the sword tip aimed directly at Chen Ping'an's brow. A golden light, arriving in a flash.
Chen Ping'an swung his sword in reverse, slashing diagonally at the culprit's head.
In the next moment, Chen Ping'an was knocked back dozens of miles, a crack gouged out in the ground by his feet.
Even though Chen Ping'an had silently used his Water Cloud Body, an extra golden causal line as thick as a finger still appeared on him.
The culprit's head, which should have been cut off, also gained a barely perceptible sword-qi crack.
Almost simultaneously, both figures vanished, each drawing a brilliant arc. Then, in the battlefield dozens of miles away, the two swords clashed. A fierce gale erupted. Chen Ping'an was sent flying again.
His back directly bored through a mountaintop that had already been smashed to pieces earlier. A sword light fell from the sky. The sword intent wrapped a golden lightning bolt as thick as a mountain peak, instantly pulverizing the entire peak. A huge pit appeared in the ground.
The culprit hovered on the wind. Failing to stab the young Hidden Official, he frowned slightly. His form disappeared again. Seemingly casually flicking his sword into a flower, a line of fire and a path of water suddenly appeared in the world. Two streaks of sword light raced like wind and lightning, eventually connecting end to end, forming a circle. The culprit raised his hand again. From the ring-like sword light, a curtain of water and a curtain of fire spread out, eventually merging into one—blending two Daos. Water and fire were compatible. Rain fell within the fire, and a great blaze burned fiercely in the river of time.
In a battle that covered a thousand miles of rivers and mountains, the earth split open, lava rose everywhere, and lightning interweaved.
A blue-shirted figure was struck down by the culprit's sword from above. Chen Ping'an crashed into the ground with a deafening impact, the earth sinking beneath him.
After all, Chen Ping'an's fourteenth realm was borrowed from Lu Chen's Dharma. Whether in the refinement of his two lifebound flying swords or the height of his own sword Dao, he was not a true fourteenth realm pure sword cultivator.
And, intentionally or not, Chen Ping'an had actively abandoned that state of being unassailable.
Thus, on the battlefield, with each clash of sword edges, it was the giant demon culprit pressing forward while Chen Ping'an suffered more setbacks, retreating again and again, stirring up clouds of dust.
In just a few breaths, the sword light had flashed over a hundred times. The entire world of a thousand miles was now covered in billowing yellow sand, obscuring the sky.
The culprit gave Chen Ping'an no chance to breathe. While fighting at close quarters with his sword, he had already used no fewer than thirty types of ancient sword techniques.
And Chen Ping'an had only delivered nineteen swords.
But Chen Ping'an's sword speed was actually getting faster and faster, as if each subsequent sword was drawn out by the previous one, like a pure martial artist's never-ending flow of qi.
After the twentieth sword, Chen Ping'an had gained the upper hand. His form landed exactly at the mountain gate of Tuo Yue Mountain as he climbed. Chen Ping'an continued to strike with his sword, his speed increasing until several swords merged into one, the sword light forming a single line. As a result, the culprit could only parry temporarily, unable to fight back.
After the thirty-sixth sword, Chen Ping'an didn't continue attacking. Instead, he instantly withdrew from Tuo Yue Mountain, switching the sword to his left hand.
The culprit rose from the pool of blood, piecing together his body and soul.
At some point, Chen Ping'an had already switched to holding Night Wander in his hand.
With one hand forming a fist, he curled his fingers and clasped his palm, using the lines in his palm as a talisman for the rivers and mountains. He simultaneously activated five lifebound objects, exhaling a breath that turned into wind and thunder.
He stomped his foot heavily. The land for a hundred miles around Chen Ping'an instantly turned into a golden mirror surface. It was the secret Thunder Array of the Dragon Tiger Mountain.
The culmination of thunder techniques was to superimpose thunder techniques, talismans, and arrays—this was the Thunder Array. Outside the Dragon Tiger Mountain, there were also Daoist masters who were said to hold a Thunder Array in their hands, inviting gods to descend, summoning troops and generals, and commanding heavenly warriors. They could summon wind, raise fog, whip dragons to bring rain, uproot mountains, and drive them into the sea. They could also move great waters to the shore. However, compared to the orthodox Thunder Array passed down through the generations at the Heavenly Master Mansion—revered as the ancestor of all Dharmas—it was far inferior. It was said that the true Thunder Array mastered the general formula of the ancient Thunder Department, the ultimate of techniques: controlling yin and yang, the flourishing and withering of all things, and the birth and death of the four seasons. Heaven and earth were in the hand; all transformations arose from the body.
His use of thunder techniques became more and more proficient.
Lu Chen couldn't help but ask with a smile, "Was it the one from Bottle Gourd Continent who went to the ruins of the Old Dragon City battlefield?"
Chen Ping'an nodded. "Taking advantage of my high realm to travel fast, I went south, visiting many places, revisiting old haunts, and meeting some old friends."
Once someone like Chen Ping'an truly entered the fourteenth realm,
His realm would be exceptionally solid.
After that came a tedious war of attrition. The culprit still had an endless array of techniques, as if he wanted to show off everything he had learned in his life in a single duel.
But Chen Ping'an's side simply switched hands to hold his sword, raising the number of consecutive strikes from thirty-six to nearly fifty.
Beyond that, at most he used the Thunder Array microcosm to stabilize his form and Dao heart.
Or he would send out a Well Moon like rain falling on Tuo Yue Mountain.
The battlefield had shifted again to the foot of Tuo Yue Mountain.
The culprit stood leaning on his sword, his back to the mountain.
A hundred miles from Tuo Yue Mountain, Chen Ping'an held Night Wander.
Chen Ping'an suddenly looked up at the sky beyond the two worlds.
A bright moon was being dragged on a long journey.
It seemed a figure had been knocked down to the mortal world. But she quickly stopped her fall, sword in hand, and returned to the bright moon, retracing her path exactly.
In an instant, Chen Ping'an was like a different person.
A mountain peak that the culprit had uprooted with his sword techniques was shifted horizontally, crashing toward Chen Ping'an.
But this time, Chen Ping'an was completely unmoved. He just stepped forward, unhurriedly, and the mountain peak, which was right in front of him, shattered by itself.
An arc of sword light also stopped a few dozen feet away. Sparks flew everywhere, raining fire, turning the ground to scorched earth.
After that, with almost every few steps Chen Ping'an took toward Tuo Yue Mountain, a sword technique or a Dharma art would explode nearby.
He was always in an invincible position, with no one before him, an unbeatable stance.
With Tuo Yue Mountain and the giant demon culprit, he was both crossing swords and questioning the Dao, and even examining his own heart.
Why cultivate the Dao?
On the path of the Dao, walk with your sword, no need to detour.
That blue shirt gradually turned into a blood-red Dharma robe.
Even the fourteenth realm Dharma could not stop this change.
The young Hidden Official seemed to return to half of the Sword Qi Great Wall, his face blurry and unsteady.
His face and body were covered in crisscrossing millions of threads.
And those golden causal lines spreading out were like a layer of gilding on a statue.
The giant demon culprit swung his sword down at the young Hidden Official, who was beginning to climb the mountain.
But the approaching, strange existence simply raised a hand, causing the culprit's sword to freeze in mid-air. Because the attack was too fierce, the culprit's wrist holding the sword broke on the spot. Maintaining that chopping posture, the culprit stumbled forward.
Chen Ping'an delivered a sword.
A very simple sword—sword beheading the Flying Ascension realm.
Lu Chen's eyes widened in shock. He was as still as a wooden chicken, his face full of disbelief.
He saw another Chen Ping'an with golden eyes standing on the mountain peak, right behind the culprit.
Holding a golden sword, he gently wiped it across the culprit's neck.
After the golden sword cut through, any river of time grand formation, any merging of Dao with Tuo Yue Mountain, was all useless, illusory Dharma.
He cut off the head.
Then he grabbed the head in his hand.
Sword in one hand, head in the other.
Lu Chen stared with wide eyes. "Is it you?"
The man smiled and replied, "It is me."
Chen Ping'an sheathed the sword Night Wander and said hoarsely, "Of course it is me."
Lu Chen stared blankly for a long time, looking both at the Chen Ping'an who had manifested with pure divinity and at the one who had actively stripped away his divinity. Finally, he let out a long sigh, fell backward on the ground, and pretended to be dead.
The two Chen Ping'ans merged into one.
As for that giant demon culprit at the peak of Flying Ascension, both his heavenly and earthly souls had been shattered by the sword. His human soul, along with his seven souls, began to scatter like ashes. Ten thousand years of cultivation and his entire realm—all vanished.
The entire Tuo Yue Mountain underfoot began to show a withered white.
The culprit's mind held onto one last shred of clarity. Only a phantom, illusory image of a man in yellow remained, standing to the side. There was no grief or unwillingness. Instead, he was relieved.
The first disciple of Tuo Yue Mountain's Grand Ancestor, his true name Yuanji, had no regrets in his life as a cultivator. He had done his best, yet still could not defend Tuo Yue Mountain. Though there was regret, he had nothing to be ashamed of. No longer having to confine himself to his own territory was a kind of liberation.
The culprit laughed. "Chen Ping'an, you can take my head to the Sword Qi Great Wall and use it to announce this to the world."
Chen Ping'an shook his head. He gently placed the giant demon culprit's head on the peak of Tuo Yue Mountain.
He chose to leave it here.
If this peak Flying Ascension cultivator had not ended his life as a pure sword cultivator,
Then not just a good head, but even his demon pill would have been dug out.
A Tuo Yue Mountain in the Barren Wastes began to show signs of collapsing and disintegrating.
The culprit turned his head to look at Chen Ping'an, seemingly surprised by the young Hidden Official's choice. But soon, he was not surprised at all.
Finally, the culprit sat cross-legged, patted his own head, and looked into the distance with a smile. "Chen Ping'an, isn't this victory a bit dishonest?"
A borrowed fourteenth realm, a sword whose killing power was beyond the heavens, and that existence of pure divinity.
A piece of blood-red Dharma robe fluttered in the wind at the mountain peak, billowing loudly.
But his face and form began to return to normal.
Chen Ping'an said, "If I were your age, you wouldn't even have seen me in this duel today."
The culprit laughed heartily.
After that, neither spoke.
The man in yellow took one last look at his homeland.
He slowly raised his hand and gave a thumbs-up to the young human sword cultivator beside him.
Chen Ping'an looked up at the moon in the sky.
For a long time, he didn't look away.
He had once worried that she would take too long to reach the upper five realms and would be in danger in a new world. Then he worried that once she became a Jade Pu realm cultivator, her burden would be even heavier, and he wouldn't be by her side.
He worried that she wouldn't become the best in the world, and then he worried that she would become the best in the world.
This was probably what it meant to love someone.
It could make a person unlike themselves. It could turn an optimist into a pessimist, and a pessimist into an optimist. It could make you see hope in despair and have the courage to look forward to the future.
It could make a poor, destitute boy from a humble alley suddenly feel like the richest man in the world.
It could make a straw-sanded youth who couldn't even write the character for "sword" cross mountains and seas, silently practice a million punches, and still tell himself that he must become a great sword immortal.
Lu Chen said, "Don't worry. It's not a big problem. Even if dragging down the moon ultimately fails, no one has made this trip for nothing."
After that, it was a long silence.
Only the mountain wind brushed by, with a faint wail.
Throughout the Barren Wastes, after Bai Ze commanded the hibernators to awaken,
In the heart of the Barren Wastes, a frozen thousand-mile glacial layer from ten thousand years ago suddenly began to melt. A graceful woman, completely unclothed, appeared. Her true body seemed to be the entire ice field itself.
She stretched lazily, raised her hand, yawned, and then sniffed. With one step, she crossed thousands of miles and arrived at a majestic city. She pursed her lips. Within the city, the blood of all living beings instantly converged into a river of blood, which she drank like wine. An upper five realm demon and several Earth Immortal cultivators tried to escape this hell with their lifebound escape techniques, but she snapped her fingers and scattered their primordial spirits, splashing several blood-red flowers in the sky.
At a sect with a long history that could barely maintain its status as a "sect," a central hanging picture in the ancestral hall—not a portrait of any generation's ancestor, but an ancient landscape painting depicting a brutal battle from an ancient battlefield.
A drenched, massive demon true body stood upon a huge pile of golden divine corpse remains.
Then the hanging picture began to shake violently. This kind of divine manifestation from the sect's founding ancestor stirred the entire sect. Old cultivators qualified to burn incense in the ancestral hall and young cultivators knelt inside and outside, frantically kowtowing. A nondescript demon corpse in the painting suddenly jumped up, its expression stiff. It looked around, then a young cultivator walked out. He picked a chair and sat down, reached out, twisted off an old cultivator's head, and put it into his mouth, chewing loudly.
After all, this group of later-stage ants from his own Dao lineage had been burning incense to the wrong person for ten thousand years—wasn't that a capital crime?
Besides that, at a small sect built in some blessed land in the Barren Wastes, a youth suddenly tilted his head, his eyes pitch black, staring blankly.
At the same time, from all directions in the Barren Wastes, eight immortal artifacts, each already belonging to a master, simultaneously cut off their Dao connections with their owners and flew in one direction. In an instant, seven upper five realm cultivators in the Barren Wastes were severely injured, and one young Earth Immortal, regarded as a favored son of heaven, died on the spot.
Moreover, in several other places across the Barren Wastes, various strange phenomena occurred, with many ancient, vast auras manifesting one after another.
At Tuo Yue Mountain, the sound of cracking and collapsing from the mountain ranges continued.
It was like the echoes of heaven and earth after a sword duel, harmonizing with the wind.
Lu Chen finally broke the silence. "Isn't the cost a bit too high?"
Chen Ping'an planted his sword on the ground, then suddenly bent over and lowered his head. Trembling, he reached out a hand, his five fingers like hooks, covering his face.
He closed one eye, leaving one golden eye.
Lu Chen, rarely feeling a moment of terror, pretended he saw nothing.
A moment later, Chen Ping'an looked up with a smile. "Realms are like liquor—the more you drink, the more you have."
Lu Chen hesitated. He wasn't just talking about realms.
Once he withdrew his Dharma, Chen Ping'an would instantly lose his realm.
His Qi-refining realm would fall from Jade Pu to Nascent Soul, and his martial arts realm would fall from Return to Truth one layer to Qi Flourishing.
Although this sword duel had successfully beheaded a Flying Ascension cultivator and brought considerable gains, the side effects were also great. For example, the inner demons he would face when re-entering the Jade Pu realm?
A ten-foot demon for a ten-foot Dao was no joke.
Let alone the battle between humanity and divinity.
Perhaps this was what it meant to be a sword cultivator?
Perhaps this was what a sword cultivator truly was?
He himself was indeed not suited for practicing the sword.
He had almost been swayed by Abbot Sun back then.
Lu Chen warned, "Chen Ping'an, let's make a deal. You really can't fight anymore."
If there was another similar sword duel, Lu Chen was afraid that he himself might end up staying in the Barren Wastes.
Chen Ping'an nodded. "Going back."