Chapter 984: Pear Blossoms Fall
The chieftain of the Carp Clan and the Grand Elder of the Deer Clan exchanged a glance, suddenly feeling a sense of unease.
The chieftain of the Bear Clan and those demon generals looked toward the arena, halting their attacks.
The wrinkles on the chieftain of the Xiang Clan’s forehead grew deeper and more numerous, doubt creeping in.
Madam Mu quietly watched Chen Changsheng, her thoughts unknown.
No one favored Chen Changsheng, but with just one sentence from him, people’s judgment of the situation in the arena shifted.
Because when he spoke those words, Chen Changsheng’s expression was calm, his voice indifferent, yet it concealed an overwhelming confidence.
No, it wasn’t even concealed—that confidence was like his sword, piercing through the clouds, sharp and fierce, making everyone who heard his voice feel a sting in their eardrums, and everyone who looked at him feel as if their eyelashes might snap off.
The Demon Lord saw it clearly. There was no bluster in Chen Changsheng’s eyes, only a calm and unwavering killing intent.
The Black Robe, who never miscalculated, would surely have anticipated that Chen Changsheng, upon learning of Luoluo’s situation, would rush thousands of miles to get here. He could also foresee that the demon race might choose to temporarily stand by under such circumstances. Since no prior arrangements were made, it meant he was certain he could kill Chen Changsheng.
Just as the Demon Lord himself believed.
He didn’t understand where Chen Changsheng’s confidence came from.
As the supreme ruler of the Demon Domain’s Snow Plains, the Demon Lord was accustomed to controlling everything.
This faint sense of slipping beyond his control stirred many negative emotions within him.
He flicked his sleeve, as if trying to brush away all these feelings.
The sleeve stirred a gentle breeze, sweeping up the pear blossoms on the viewing platform, sending them dancing endlessly.
At this sight, shocked gasps arose from the surroundings.
Flowers being swept up by the wind was a common occurrence. The gasps came because something unusual had appeared.
The pear blossoms, which should have been pure white, had inexplicably turned black—the purest black, without a trace of impurity. Moreover, the gentle little flowers now drifted in bizarre, heavy trajectories, as if weighed down.
Black meant no light.
The light falling from the sky seemed to be drawn into the Demon Lord’s sleeve.
That was why the dancing little flowers had become so heavy.
The space beneath the pear tree seemed to warp.
What kind of demonic art could create such a scene?
Chen Changsheng quietly gazed into the Demon Lord’s eyes, paying no heed to the suddenly darkened surroundings.
In this world of night-like darkness, those black little flowers seemed to vanish.
Suddenly, a faint trace of white appeared in his vision.
That faint white was gray—like the first glimpse of dawn in a sunless abyss.
It was a single pear blossom, silently drifting behind him.
Not even he, let alone the demon race’s powerful experts watching from the sidelines, had noticed it.
Chen Changsheng stared at the Demon Lord, appearing oblivious.
That pear blossom, gradually turning white, suddenly trembled several times, then shattered.
The soft petals were torn into countless fine threads, dancing in the wind, sometimes lit by light, sometimes darkened by shadow.
The scene was beautiful and eerie, with no one understanding how it had happened.
Only then did a crystal-clear sword cry ring out across the viewing platform.
A sharp sword intent descended. The petal threads, unable to withstand it, snapped one by one, fell to the ground, turned into black smoke, and dissipated without a trace.
A sword, ancient in aura, had appeared in the arena at some unknown moment, silently hovering in the air behind Chen Changsheng.
This sword gave the impression that anyone who tried to attack Chen Changsheng would face its powerful and merciless counterstrike.
It was like Chen Changsheng’s most loyal guard, or a companion who would never betray him.
……
……
This was the first time many had seen Chen Changsheng’s sword technique—this legendary art.
Chen Changsheng was still far from the Divine Domain, but in many eyes, his sword technique was already extraordinary.
As the inheritor of Su Li’s legacy, during the years of Qiu Shan Jun’s disappearance, he had been recognized as the next master of the sword.
His sword technique had long been known, and the great figures of the demon race present had heard of it, but witnessing it firsthand still left them profoundly shaken.
The Demon Lord’s expression remained unchanged. Back on that snowy ridge night, he had already seen Chen Changsheng’s sword technique and knew it was far from this.
He stepped forward, and the night advanced toward the light. The pear tree behind him seemed to become a silhouette.
The cold night howled, and the scattered pear blossoms on the ground rose up, drifting toward Chen Changsheng.
The blossoms moved slowly, even sluggishly, with a heavy weight.
Seeing this, the demon race’s powerful experts felt a strong premonition of danger. Touching those blossoms would surely end in disaster.
The problem was that thousands of blossoms danced in the air—how could Chen Changsheng avoid them?
Even if he could, what about Princess Luoluo standing behind him?
……
……
The Demon Lord knew what Chen Changsheng would do.
Countless swords would surge from that scabbard called Hidden Edge, shattering the sky full of blossoms, even slicing them into threads too fragile to withstand the wind.
Just like he had dealt with that single blossom earlier.
In truth, the Demon Lord was inviting Chen Changsheng to do exactly that.
Because, like all cultivators on the continent, he had always been curious about how many swords Chen Changsheng had taken from the Zhou Garden’s Sword Pool.
More importantly, this was the method he had specifically prepared to kill Chen Changsheng since that snowy ridge night.
When the sky full of blossoms was completely cut down by Chen Changsheng’s rain of swords, death would descend.
What happened next matched the Demon Lord’s expectations exactly, as well as what powerful experts like the Xiang Clan chieftain had foreseen.
Countless piercing sword cries rang out. The sharp sword intent seemed to pierce from the ground straight through the sky. Deep, straight sword scars appeared on the hard surface of the viewing platform. The swirling blossoms were slashed down one by one, and countless terrifying spatial fissures flickered among them.
Watching this, many eyes were filled with fear. Not just the heavy, mountain-like blossoms or the fierce sword intent—even the spatial fissures created by the clash of these two powerful forces were enough to kill most of those present.
After an unknown time, the blossoms finally fell completely, leaving no trace, only a faint lingering fragrance.
Those terrifying spatial fissures gradually closed, like the eyes of demons from the abyss shutting.
Hundreds of swords hung silently in the air, like a rainstorm about to fall.
Within this rain of swords, Chen Changsheng quietly watched the Demon Lord.
The blossoms had fallen, but he was not dead.
Because the Demon Lord’s method had not appeared.
The Demon Lord’s expression was more solemn than ever, even showing a hint of shock.
He stared into Chen Changsheng’s eyes and asked, “What sword technique is this?”