Chapter 206: Testing the Sword (Part 2)
Bie Yanghong had once fully transmitted the images of that sacred battle into Chen Changsheng’s mind.
The language of the Holy Light Continent bore some resemblance to Dragon Tongue.
When he was a child reciting the final volume of the General Compendium of the Dao Origin in the old temple of Xining Town, he had learned from his master how to read those characters.
In the cave beneath Beixin Bridge, he had spent a long time learning Dragon Tongue from the little black dragon.
The Demon Lord could understand the language of the Holy Light Angel, and he could understand some of it too.
Though it might not be entirely precise, he knew that what the Holy Light Angel said to him was not about the fire thief.
That phrase, or rather that syllable, should mean “descendant of light” or “inheritor of light.”
What did that mean?
Chen Changsheng did not understand.
The emotional shifts in the Holy Light Angel’s eyes—those cold, stern, and utterly terrifying expressions—were not necessarily directed at him, but seemed more rooted in some kind of vigilance.
Suddenly, the Holy Light Angel appeared outside the rain of swords.
There was no sound, no visible movement. He seemed not to have moved at all, yet he was no longer where he had been.
This scene was eerie, sending a chill down one’s spine, as if he could completely disregard the supreme laws of heaven and earth.
The Holy Light Angel looked at Chen Changsheng within the sword rain and raised the light spear in his hand.
Chen Changsheng stepped in front of the blind zither master.
The blind zither master sensed what he intended to do.
The night wind stirred his graying hair.
The blind zither master’s fingers fell upon the zither strings.
A piercing and desolate zither sound rang out again, hiding within it a profound unwillingness.
If he hadn’t been ambushed by the Sect Master back then, he would surely have entered the sacred domain by now. Even if he still couldn’t match this Holy Light Angel, he could at least face him head-on.
What a bitter regret!
But… what of it!
The zither sound suddenly rose, all that unwillingness transforming into battle intent, slashing toward the Holy Light Angel outside the sword formation!
Stirred by the zither sound, the hundreds of swords in the night sky hummed and whistled, vibrating at high speed until they were invisible to the naked eye.
The howling cold wind swept the yellow sand across the ground, but could not rise beyond a foot.
Above that foot of ground, the air was filled with zither sound and sword intent.
The blind zither master burned all his true essence, unleashing his most powerful strike.
The formation intent of the Nanxi Zhai sword array was pushed to its extreme in that moment.
The Holy Light Angel paid no heed, nor did he dodge. He stood still, calmly watching Chen Changsheng.
Those zither sounds and sword intents vanished to nowhere.
Chen Changsheng and the blind zither master kept their eyes fixed on the Holy Light Angel, confirming that he had done nothing at all.
Even if this Holy Light Angel possessed an unimaginably perfect divine body, how could he leave not a single trace?
Why had the full force of the sword intents and zither sounds not landed on him?
How was this done?
Chen Changsheng suddenly spotted a faint stream of light deep in the night.
That stream of light was very pale, like the last embers of a campfire burned through the night.
Yet it was also quite distinct, clearly carrying some kind of order, or direction.
He thought of a possibility, and his expression shifted slightly.
Could it be that at the moment the sword intents and zither sounds descended, this Holy Light Angel had retreated deep into the night, then returned to the scene?
Just as he had moved from the courtyard gate to the scene earlier.
How could one defeat an otherworldly stronghold possessing such unimaginable speed?
…
…
The Holy Light Angel stood quietly, watching Chen Changsheng within the sword formation. His gaze shifted once more.
This change was slow, yet it carried a grand sense, like the sea turning into mulberry fields, or a sea of stars becoming a tomb of light.
Those stern, cold, and terrifying emotions reverted to indifference, but this time, the indifference held something indescribable.
Looking into the Holy Light Angel’s eyes, Chen Changsheng felt a slight chill.
Not from fear, but from the lingering influence of fear on his soul from years past.
At the age of ten, on that solitary peak in the Cloud Tomb, there had come many roars of monstrous beasts.
Senior Brother Yuren had fanned him by the bedside, occasionally turning his head to look toward Cuo Mountain.
Chen Changsheng remembered clearly that before each turn of his brother’s head, there was such an emotion in his eyes.
The Holy Light Angel raised his light spear and thrust it toward the rain of swords.
The swords reacted instinctively, the formation flowing like clouds, tightly sealing the entire sky and earth.
With a thunderous roar, the yellow sand on the ground leaped upward in unison, just breaking past the foot-high mark.
It looked as if the entire courtyard floor had risen by a notch.
Or as if Chen Changsheng and the blind zither master had sunk a notch into the ground.
What lay beneath the ground? An abyss? A prison of divine might?
A fierce wind howled in, only to be shredded by the zither sound.
The blind zither master bowed his head, his hands dancing wildly over the zither strings. The wound on his left shoulder split open, blood spraying in a frenzy.
Chen Changsheng’s spiritual sense was linked to the sword formation, and his face grew even paler.
That light spear halted just outside the rain of swords.
But in the next moment, deep within the rain of swords, a sharp and brilliant spear tip emerged from the void!
Seeing the bright spear tip so close, Chen Changsheng realized that his Nanxi Zhai sword formation could not truly block the enemy’s attack!
With a soft crack!
A zither string snapped in the middle, curling up like the whiskers of a dragon drinking water, tightly binding itself around that spear tip!
The blind zither master’s ten fingers, resting on the strings, were instantly shattered by the terrifying force transmitted through them, blood spraying wildly.
Chen Changsheng swung his sword to meet it.
With another soft crack, the middle of the Cangfeng Sword Sheath met the spear tip.
Then, a grating, teeth-clenching sound arose.
It was not the sound of the spear tip grinding against the Cangfeng Sword Sheath.
It was the sound of bones trembling, echoing continuously within his body.
That spear tip emerging from the void, aside from its brightness, seemed unremarkable.
Only Chen Changsheng and the blind zither master could feel the weight it carried.
That weight could no longer be described by mountains and rivers.
That weight was heaven and earth.
This was the might of heaven and earth.
How could a mortal bear it?
Chen Changsheng had a perfectly cleansed, impurity-free body, and had been soaked in true dragon blood. In terms of physical resilience, he was unmatched in the world.
Yet he could not withstand the force transmitted from this spear tip. He was on the verge of collapse, heading toward death.
The swords, sharing his heart and mind, sensed the peril he faced but could not assist.
They had to block the main body of the light spear in the Holy Light Angel’s hand, bearing an even greater pressure.
The wind and rain grew slightly chaotic.
The Nanxi Zhai sword formation also wavered.
If not for the Holy Light Angel seeming wary of some of Chen Changsheng’s methods, the sword formation might have already been pierced through by this domineering light spear.
Even so, Chen Changsheng and the blind zither master could no longer hold out much longer.
The Demon Lord watched this scene quietly, not uttering a cold farewell in the aesthetic of the Snow City, saying “Farewell, Your Holiness,” because he knew Chen Changsheng still had tricks up his sleeve.
Whether it was the Zhou Garden or the Qingye World, or something else.
Until those methods were fully unleashed, he believed Chen Changsheng would not die.