Chapter 337: The Golden-Winged Great Peng Appears
Controlling ten thousand swords simultaneously required ten thousand strands of divine sense. Who could possess such formidable divine sense? Even if Zhou Dufu were to be resurrected, he likely couldn't achieve this, yet Chen Changsheng had done it. Thus, Teng Xiaoming was more bewildered than shocked; he simply couldn't fathom how this was possible.
Back when Chen Changsheng had fixed his destiny star in the National Academy's library, his divine sense had scattered across the night sky above the capital. The Holy Empress, observing the stars, had once remarked: "This person's divine sense is remarkably strong, and his consciousness exceptionally tranquil. He must be an old scholar who has studied for a hundred years and, upon suddenly comprehending the principles of heaven and earth, attained this fortune. Like Wang Zhice back then, accumulated thickness yields thin brilliance—naturally extraordinary." In this assessment, the Holy Empress compared Chen Changsheng to Wang Zhice, who had once achieved enlightenment in a single night, causing his star to shine over the capital. This showed how powerful Chen Changsheng's divine sense was, but no matter how strong, it couldn't surpass Zhou Dufu's. The key to his ability to split his divine sense into ten thousand strands lay in the latter part of the Holy Empress's two-sentence evaluation.
The number of strands into which divine sense could be divided had nothing to do with its raw strength, only its stability.
A peerless powerhouse like Zhou Dufu naturally possessed divine sense countless times stronger than Chen Changsheng's. That kind of divine sense was like a hard, massive rock—it could be split into one, two, or even dozens of strands, but it could never remain permanently divided. Eventually, it would break down into fine gravel, unable to be further fragmented.
Chen Changsheng's divine sense, however, was incomparably tranquil. While it couldn't be as indestructible as a powerhouse of Zhou Dufu's level, it was far more supple. Unlike hard rock, it was like water—able to split into countless droplets, becoming beads of water or mist, seemingly divisible without end.
Countless swords shuttled and flew around the mausoleum, occasionally descending upon the tide of beasts, bringing up sprays of blood. Sometimes they encountered extremely tough resistance, and some old, worn swords snapped again, looking pitiful and battered. Just as the battle between the ten thousand swords and the beast tide began, several dozen of the fastest and best-preserved swords, led by the Mountain and Sea Sword and directed by Chen Changsheng's divine sense, focused and resolutely flew deep into the grassland. Finally, they arrived before the Jian beast.
The Jian beast's grain-sized eyes emitted a cruel, dim light. Its thin tail, tightly connected to its single horn, was taut. The grass around it had long since been flattened by the violent aura emanating from its body, unable to rise. The air burst with countless dense, faint hissing sounds as thousands of black bristles on its tail shot toward the mausoleum like nearly invisible arrows.
Clang, clang, clang, clang! A series of crisp impacts rang out from deep within the grassland, the sounds seeming to press together into a single, prolonged note.
Several dozen sword lights flashed and danced through the air miles in front of the Jian beast, their sword momentum flowing in a circular harmony, painting countless dense rings of light in the sky. The thousands of black bristles shot by the Jian beast were all blocked by those sword lights. In an instant, thousands of tiny white air vortexes appeared in the sky—the result of swords meeting bristles. On the grassland, countless thread-like cracks appeared. The catfish and loaches that had managed to survive had no time to burrow deeper into the wet mud before being torn into shreds.
The Mountain and Sea Sword did not bother to block the black bristles aimed at the mausoleum from dozens of miles away. It charged fiercely out from the sword rings, its heavy black iron blade splitting the air with a piercing howl, and slashed down directly at the single horn atop the Jian beast's head. This was Su Li's self-created move, the Sky-Scorching Sword!
The grassland was filled with the sound of sword edges cutting through tough beast hide. Everywhere, splattering chunks of flesh could be seen. Countless sword lights gradually dimmed, and countless demonic beasts fell at the foot of the mausoleum or deep within the water and grass. The fine rain around the mausoleum continued to fall. When would this rain of swords in the grassland ever cease?
Nanke still had her eyes closed. The Soul Wood before her grew brighter and brighter, its light as white as milk, making her small face appear even paler. Teng Xiaoming and Liu Wan'er were protecting her, exuding a powerful and resolute aura, preventing any sword from approaching her body.
After an unknown amount of time, she finally opened her eyes. The fine rain fell on her face. The deep, indifferent green flames in her eyes were not extinguished by the cold rain. Instead, for some reason, a sacred golden light began to edge along their borders, and that golden rim was encroaching deeper into the green.
Chen Changsheng also opened his eyes and looked at her floating before the main gate of the mausoleum.
The two stared at each other silently, saying nothing.
Nanke considered herself the inheritor of the Zhou Garden. Her methods came from the forbidden seals left behind by Zhou Dufu. Those forbidden seals had kept these ten thousand broken swords within the Zhou Garden for centuries. Today, Chen Changsheng wanted to rely on those ten thousand broken swords to leave, which would inevitably destroy the very foundation of the Zhou Garden. This was something she could not allow. So, even at the risk of being slain by the ten thousand swords, she had earlier sent her spirit wandering between heaven and earth, activating the most powerful method to kill Chen Changsheng, reclaim the ten thousand swords, and restore peace to the grassland.
Chen Changsheng, of course, would not accept this arrangement—whether it was fate's decree or Zhou Dufu's pre-death plan.
The war between the ten thousand swords and the beast tide continued. In that brief moment of their silent stare, countless brutal and bloody scenes unfolded. The combatants in this war were swords and beasts. There were no humans, so naturally, no one spoke. There was only the howl of swords and the roar of beasts. No battle cries were heard, yet the killing intent on the grassland soared to the heavens.
Before long, the beast tide gradually calmed and slowly retreated toward the outskirts of the mausoleum. Whether because they realized they truly couldn't break through the ten thousand broken swords outside the mausoleum, or because Nanke had issued a command through the Soul Wood, or because they vaguely sensed something, the beasts withdrew.
Chen Changsheng raised his right hand. The fine rain fell upon it, and the countless swords in the grassland responded, returning.
Tens of thousands of low-level demonic beasts had died. The sinister and eerie Earth Monkey had initially tried to ambush Chen Changsheng but was instead countered and severely wounded by the Mountain Gate Sword. Both its hind legs were broken and crippled, unable to stand upright like a human anymore. Clinging to the leg of the Overthrowing Mountain Ape, it glared hatefully at the mausoleum, letting out angry chirps as if tattling.
The Overthrowing Mountain Ape's mountain-like colossal body was extremely conspicuous in the sea of beasts, but now its hard body surface bore at least thousands of sword marks, some deep, some shallow. Some swords had successfully breached its terrifying defenses, wounding its flesh and bone. Blood dripped profusely, flowing down the broken stone edge it held to the ground.
The Jian beast deep in the grassland seemed the least injured, but most of the black bristles on its thin tail had been shot off, leaving only a few sparse tufts. It looked like it had been singed by fire—patchy, miserable, and somewhat ridiculous, no longer as terrifying as before.
Countless swords flew back toward the mausoleum. Some had snapped again, leaving only a short stub besides the hilt, looking equally miserable and heartbreaking. Others had been struck by the beasts' venom, their rust eaten away, revealing a renewed brightness, but they could barely bear their own weight, wobbling precariously in midair.
Not a single sword fell into the grassland and was lost. Because whenever a sword seemed about to fall, another sword would swoop over and support it from below. Even those swords that had been broken off by beasts during the battle and trampled into the wet mud were pried out from underground by other swords, which then carried them back to the mausoleum, several swords supporting one.
This scene easily reminded one of a real battlefield. Under the blood-red sun, hearing the sound of retreat signaling victory, the wounded and exhausted soldiers had no strength to cheer. They supported each other, slowly walking back to camp, while those too weak to walk were carried by their comrades on makeshift stretchers made of branches.
Chen Changsheng did not leave a single sword behind on the grassland. This might seem touching, but Nanke would not feel such cheap, in her view, sentimentality. What she saw in this scene was Chen Changsheng's power. To maintain a mind divided ten thousand ways and persist until now was rare in the world, and even she admired it.
But the more she admired him, the more he had to die.
The deep green flames in Nanke's eyes had all turned into sacred gold. An indescribably holy aura emanated from her petite body. At this moment, it was hard to sense that she was the demon princess; she seemed more like a saintess from the Nanxi Zhai.
That terrifying shadow had completely fallen behind her.
Behind her was the Never-Setting Sun Grassland.
That shadow had once covered half the sky. Now it had descended, blanketing the entire grassland. The dim light from the distant setting sun fell upon the shadow, seemingly instantly absorbed, with no refraction, vanishing without a trace.
The grassland was now covered in blood. The shadow undulated slightly, as if the blood were bringing it to life.
The light of the setting sun was no longer being consumed. It mixed with the blood, turning into gold—the same color as the flames deep in Nanke's eyes.
The edges of the shadow were gilded with a golden rim, gradually outlining its shape. As it slowly drifted, the shape became clearer and clearer.
It was a pair of wings. A pair of golden wings.
These golden wings were immense, their length unknown for thousands of miles, spanning across heaven and earth.
The Golden-Winged Great Peng Bird had finally revealed its true form.
With its appearance, heaven and earth changed color. The dark clouds that had just gathered above the mausoleum instantly dispersed.
All the demonic beasts lowered their heads in fear, prostrating themselves in the most submissive postures they knew, sinking into the blood, wet mud, and tangled grass. The beast tide rippled with waves. Even the proudest and most domineering Overthrowing Mountain Ape knelt humbly in the shadow of the Great Peng.
The setting sun was behind the Great Peng. Countless rays of light spilled out along the edges of its wings, turning into countless motes of light in the sky.
This scene was so beautiful it seemed unreal, like a mythical tableau described in the National Religion's scriptures.
In fact, in the Bright Hall of the Li Palace, there was indeed a mural depicting the celestial phenomenon when the Golden-Winged Great Peng was born from the clouds of light in ancient times.
The Golden-Winged Great Peng, from the moment of its birth between heaven and earth, had almost stepped into the sacred realm.
Whether in myth, legend, or reality, the Golden-Winged Great Peng was a divine beast of the same rank as the Unicorn and the Divine Sparrow, second only to the Dragon and Phoenix.
Chen Changsheng looked at the Golden-Winged Great Peng that blotted out the sky and remained silent.
From the moment he had seen that shadow, he had been waiting for this moment.
But just like death, no matter how much you prepare, when it arrives, you realize you still aren't ready.
Now, he felt exactly that.
This Golden-Winged Great Peng seemed to be death itself.
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(I have matters to attend to today, so only one chapter.)