Chapter 117: Killing Zhou Tong (Part 2)
Countless sword lights surged forth from the Hidden Edge scabbard, blasting toward that sea of blood. Piercing or muffled sounds of impact and slicing rang out in no particular order, dazzling brightness illuminating the dark little courtyard, the broken walls, the scarred crabapple tree, the viscous sea of blood, and Zhou Tong’s pale face.
The swarm of swords, like countless meteors falling from the sky, carried with them terrifying light and heat, stabbing relentlessly into that expanse of blood and pressure.
Zhou Tong’s cultivation had reached the peak of Star Gathering. He had long prepared for Chen Changsheng’s methods. Chen Changsheng’s Wisdom Sword could not find a true flaw and was instead suppressed by him. But how could his star domain withstand the bombardment of so many swords? No matter how close to perfection it was, it was still not true perfection. As long as there was a flaw, it would inevitably be pierced!
The blood sphere formed from the sea of blood trapped the peerlessly sharp Stainless Sword within it, but under the assault of countless sword lights, it began to show signs of cracking.
With a soft *pop*, like a wineskin full of liquor pierced by a sharp blade, or like window paper gently poked by a finger.
The sea of blood was broken!
Zhou Tong’s face turned deathly pale, his pupils growing even deeper, and in their depths, a hint of fear could be seen.
Countless sword lights pierced through the sea of blood, carrying a chilling sword intent, and landed on his body!
Amid the harsh sounds of swords cutting, countless streams of real blood burst into the night, accompanied by a furious and pained howl.
In an instant, hundreds of sword wounds appeared on Zhou Tong’s body. Blood flowed from those wounds, and even the stark white of bone could faintly be seen!
Zhou Tong knew Chen Changsheng had many swords and had considered the possibility that he might store them in that scabbard called Hidden Edge, but he never imagined that Chen Changsheng could control so many swords at once!
After all, these were legendary swords that had once held fearsome reputations in the world. How could they be commanded by a youth who had just entered the initial stage of Star Gathering?
Blood sprayed wildly in the night courtyard, flowing onto the cracked bluestone ground and into that seemingly illusory sea of blood star domain.
The sea of blood was broken but did not dissipate. Instead, with the infusion of Zhou Tong’s true blood, it grew even more violent and its bloody aura became even thicker.
A hand emerged from the sea of blood, reaching out from the night—it was Zhou Tong’s left hand. His palm was covered in countless cracks, flesh turned outward, smeared with blood. Even the flesh on his middle and index fingers had been completely shaved off by the sword intent, leaving only white bone. It looked terrifying and dreadful.
It was like the miserable state of the prisoners he often saw in the dungeon beneath this courtyard…
The hand of bare bone trembled slightly in the night wind, as if it might break at any moment, yet it still pressed forward stubbornly, reaching for Chen Changsheng’s throat.
Bone emerged from the sea of blood!
Under the bombardment of thousands of sword lights, Zhou Tong was severely wounded, but he did not die on the spot. He still had the strength to fight!
He floated in the air, covered in blood, his grand red official robe soaked through, constantly dripping blood to the ground.
The front of the grand red official robe had been torn to shreds by the sword intent, revealing what lay beneath.
It was not his body, but a soft armor of extreme brightness, carrying a faint sacred aura. On the armor, near the chest and abdomen, there was a tiny hole barely visible to the naked eye.
Chen Changsheng’s pupils contracted, and he recognized it instantly… It was the Tianhai family’s ultimate treasure: the Six Imperial Divine Armor!
The extremely fine sword hole on the Six Imperial Divine Armor was one he had personally pierced last autumn in front of the National Academy.
The Stainless Sword could break the Six Imperial Divine Armor, but that didn’t mean other famous swords had the same ability.
As the most renowned soft armor on the Hundred Artifacts List, the Six Imperial Divine Armor, perhaps even approaching the power of a divine artifact, had successfully blocked most of the thousands of sword lights for Zhou Tong!
Why was this divine armor on Zhou Tong’s body?
The left hand, like bare bone, pierced through the night and the sea of blood, reaching for Chen Changsheng’s throat.
Zhou Tong’s sinister and furious voice echoed in Chen Changsheng’s sea of consciousness: “Did you think I would come unprepared?!”
The blood-soaked grand red official robe danced wildly in the ruined courtyard, splattering blood in all directions, along with emotions of anger and resentment.
The terrifying pressure of the sea of blood enveloped the scene.
The thousands of bright sword lights burst out of the sea of blood, flying straight into the night sky, unable to return immediately.
Chen Changsheng moved with the Yeshi Step, retreating continuously!
But crossing the sea of suffering was difficult, and so was crossing the sea of blood.
No matter how unpredictable his movements, he still ended up staying in place, and the Stainless Sword remained unable to escape Zhou Tong’s grasp.
With a muffled *crack*, the bleeding bone hand gripped Chen Changsheng’s throat.
Even a body bathed in dragon blood could not withstand the full force of this bone claw from the sea of blood. Chen Changsheng’s throat bones were shattered, but not a single drop of blood leaked out.
Zhou Tong stood before him, his official robe reeking of bloody stench, like a wet swamp, nauseating to smell.
Chen Changsheng’s face was pale, but his eyes were bright.
Zhou Tong’s face was pale, and his gaze was deep and dark.
This was the closest they had been since the battle began, just a hair’s breadth apart.
Was this brutal fight over?
No, Chen Changsheng didn’t think so.
Neither did Zhou Tong.
Zhou Tong was the person who had killed the most people in this world and had seen the most death, so he feared death the most. He didn’t want to die.
He had been cautious all his life, never missing any detail.
He didn’t know Chen Changsheng would come to kill him, but over the decades, people had always come to kill him, so he was always prepared.
Until Chen Changsheng appeared in this courtyard that had once been full of crabapple blossoms, all his caution and preparations had paid off.
He knew what Chen Changsheng was capable of and what fortuitous encounters he had had.
He knew the three swords Su Li had passed on to Chen Changsheng, and he knew Chen Changsheng had brought countless swords out of the Zhou Garden.
He naturally had corresponding measures, like the blood sphere formed from the sea of blood star domain, and the Six Imperial Divine Armor hidden under his grand red official robe.
Was that all? No, he knew Chen Changsheng should still have some trump cards, like the magical artifacts given to him by Her Highness Luoluo back then, or some life-saving skills Su Li might have left him, or the divine staff granted to him by His Holiness the Pope. So he, too, had hidden his own strongest hand.
Even though he was severely wounded, his flesh cut to pieces by the sword lights, he still hadn’t used his strongest move, because he had always remembered that divine staff.
That staff, representing the authority of the National Church, that staff, said to have the power to create heaven and earth.
At this point, with cruel fate already gripping your throat, what are you waiting for?
Zhou Tong’s pupils became exceptionally deep, shrinking like some kind of beast, as if about to turn into a straight line.
He knew that in the next moment, Chen Changsheng would use the National Church’s divine staff to deliver the most decisive blow.
He waited for the moment that light would arrive.
…
…
Countless sword lights pierced through the sea of blood, flying into the night sky, not yet returned.
The bloody bone hand gripped Chen Changsheng’s throat.
This was his closest moment to death, and also the closest Zhou Tong had been to him.
Chen Changsheng had been waiting for this moment.
He struck.
Just as Zhou Tong had expected, his move brought forth a burst of light.
Zhou Tong’s face was illuminated by that light, turning deathly pale, but there was no surprise or fear in his expression, because everything was within his expectations.
The blood-red official robe shimmered with an eerie glow under the light. Amid the dripping of blood, a magical artifact carrying an ancient, distant aura floated out from his sleeve, blocking the light—it was a mirror, ancient and mysterious, its surface smooth as water, as if it could reflect all light.
If Chen Changsheng could recognize this bronze mirror, he would know that even if it couldn’t completely block the light of the National Church’s divine staff, it would buy Zhou Tong enough time.
Just the shortest amount of time, and that bleeding bone hand could twist his head off his neck.
But that didn’t happen.
The deep darkness in Zhou Tong’s eyes was dispelled by the light, revealing a trace of terror.
Because the light that reached him was not a flood, but a single beam.
An extremely bright beam of light flashed before his eyes.
Where did this light come from?
It wasn’t the rapidly returning sword lights.
Nor was it the sacred light emitted by the National Church’s divine staff.
This light was so pure, without any impurities, and precisely because of that, it was terrifying.
This light was resolute, violent, and stunning.
Zhou Tong’s eyes saw this light first, so his eyelashes snapped, and then a blood line appeared on his pupils, cutting them in two.
The bronze mirror that floated out from his sleeve was useless, cut in two.
This violent blade light seemed to rise from the night sky and fall into the underworld, striking him.
A piercing, agonizing scream burst from his blood-stained lips.
Countless magical artifacts he carried exploded on their own, like fireworks in the courtyard, yet they still couldn’t stop the light from falling.
The grand red official robe danced in terror, his body turning into a dark shadow, retreating frantically into the depths of the courtyard, but still unable to avoid the light’s descent.
The light landed on him.
The straps of the Six Imperial Divine Armor snapped.
His earlobe fell off.
His shoulder split open.
His left arm severed.
Before that bright light, everything—even the light from other sources and the night wind—was cut apart.
This light was a blade light.
The blade light fell, and a clear, straight blood mark appeared on Zhou Tong’s face and body, stretching from his left eye down to his ribs.
With a soft *swish*, a spray of blood burst from his eye, his left cheek peeled off in the wind, his left shoulder was sliced away, and his left arm fell to the ground.
Then, he crashed heavily to the ground, spitting out a thick, clotted mass of blood.
What blade was this?
Chen Changsheng walked toward the rubble, holding that blade in his hand.
It was a kitchen knife he had taken from the stove room before leaving the National Academy.
This was the most terrifying blade in heaven and earth, past and present.
Before this blade, whether mountains or rivers, everything would be cut in two.
One cut, two pieces.
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