Chapter 709: Wang Po's Breakthrough (Part 2)
From Tianliang to Wenshui, from Tiannan to the Demon Domain, from Xunyang City to the capital, from Tanzhe Temple to Snow Street, Wang Po had been preparing to draw his blade.
This single strike had been accumulating for many years, all to carve a passage between the stars and the earth, to sever that threshold.
Tieshu clearly sensed that Wang Po's blade intent, after reaching its peak, did not settle into stillness. Instead, it continued to rise, subtly undergoing some unknown transformation.
Wang Po had long cultivated to the peak of Gathering Stars. To continue improving—what else could it be but breaking through to the next realm?
A sharp howl echoed across both banks of the Luo River.
Tieshu's figure vanished from before Wang Po's eyes—not truly gone, but his presence filled the space between the snowy clouds and the icy surface.
The energy of heaven and earth, along with the hidden principles of law, were stirred by his form. That metallic, intangible flower descended from the sky, enveloping Wang Po's blade within it.
He used the heavens to bind Wang Po's blade intent.
That flower bloomed furiously between heaven and earth, revealing his wrathful form and those hands gleaming with cold light!
Tieshu bloomed, a thousand blossoms, each petal representing the principles of heaven and earth's laws, extraordinarily powerful.
If Wang Po wished to survive, he either had to see through these principles or break through them head-on.
He had cultivated the Dao for mere decades—how could he possibly see through Tieshu's techniques, honed over endless years?
No matter how much his blade intent rose, he could not, at this moment, cut through Tieshu's strike, which contained the very laws of heaven and earth.
So what was he to do?
Wang Po's blade intent surged fiercely, bursting forth from his body.
With a soft sound, his left arm snapped off, flying toward the sky.
A streak of blood appeared in the monotonous world, where only white existed.
The clouds in the sky and the swirling snow were suddenly painted with a splash of vivid color.
The sky was filled with blood, shocking to behold, like flowing magma or rotten plum blossoms, burning everything clean, polluting everything.
Within that blood, there existed an aura of extreme terror and profound awe.
From somewhere in the sky came an incredulous, furious roar—Tieshu's voice.
From the moment Wang Po severed his own arm, his arm became his blade, his blood became his Dao. So what blade intent was he using?
Why was this blade intent so powerful, so terrifying, that it could effortlessly break through the principles of heaven and earth's laws?
If the Pope or Shang Xingzhou had been present, they might have understood.
This blade intent was called World-Burning, the essence of Zhou Dufu's Two Severing Blade technique.
At the ultimate stage of cultivation, all paths often converge, but Wang Po using the Two Severing Blade's intent here had nothing to do with that saying.
Earlier, by the Luo River, Chen Changsheng had shared his understanding of the Two Severing Blade with him. Wang Po had listened casually, paying it no mind.
But could he truly disregard it?
Of course not.
Zhou Dufu was universally acknowledged as the strongest beneath the stars, and he used a blade.
Wang Po was universally recognized as the greatest blade master since Zhou Dufu, and he too used a blade.
Whether he admitted it or resisted it, Zhou Dufu's blade Dao had always influenced his cultivation.
As long as that name existed, as long as the Two Severing Blade remained, this influence persisted.
He knew very well that using the Two Severing Blade's intent now might temporarily break Tieshu's heavenly law strike, but it would inevitably have a severe impact on his own blade Dao cultivation in the future.
Yet he still struck down with that blade.
If it were mere inheritance, this strike would still not be enough to cut through Tieshu's flower.
But his blade first struck himself.
This strike came from Zhou Dufu, yet it severed Zhou Dufu's influence on him and all future blade practitioners.
This was not inheritance, nor transmission—it was acceptance, then abandonment.
No one in the world could achieve this.
Even Wang Po needed to sever his own arm to do so.
But as his arm flew toward the sky, all the fog in his heart was cleared away, the shadows vanished, and before his eyes, everything became transparent and bright.
Then, his blade struck next at the flower Tieshu had bloomed.
And so, the sky flowed with molten blood, and the flowers fell like mud.
...
...
Wang Po's Dao heart was calmer than ever before, yet the blood scattering around him was scorching hot, melting the snow in the air and the ice on the river.
His iron blade, carrying his own blood, tore through those petals representing the principles of heaven and earth's laws, arriving before Tieshu.
The blade had not yet left its sheath, yet its intent had already pierced through heaven and earth.
Those terrifying, destructive, world-ending auras, those resolute, cold presences, had vanished without a trace, leaving only himself.
Like a snowy mountain, like a green pine, unshakable.
If at this moment, his iron blade had already been drawn, he might truly have been able to defeat Tieshu.
Fortunately for Tieshu, the blade remained sheathed.
Tieshu knew this was an opportunity he must seize.
In today's battle by the Luo River, Wang Po's displayed talent and courage had truly exceeded his imagination, shocking him deeply.
But even if Wang Po had incredibly broken through that threshold, Tieshu still firmly believed he would easily claim final victory.
Because he had long seen Wang Po's problem.
Wang Po had been nurturing his blade for too long.
Enough time, enough momentum—yet this often brought new problems you hadn't anticipated.
For instance, his blade was still in its sheath, and the sheath had already bent.
Drawing the blade would now be more troublesome, slower.
Even the instant it took for lightning to fall was enough to change the outcome of this battle.
Amid a cold howl, Tieshu's figure appeared above the Luo River, amidst a sea of flowers, and struck a palm toward Wang Po's head.
Just like at the very beginning.
Wang Po seemed unaware that his blade was still in its sheath, continuing the motion of swinging it, his expression calm, even somewhat dull.
Suddenly, an extremely soft sound echoed through heaven and earth.
It was a faint snap.
It sounded like the yellow leaves of Tanzhe Temple brushed by the wind, or like the accumulated snow on a long street trodden underfoot.
No, it seemed like something had broken.
It was the ice layer thinned by hot breath, the layers of cold willows by the embankment severed by the shockwave!
It was a silver vase shattering, a thousand troops charging!
It was the ice finally breaking, spring filling the mountains!
It was the breakthrough of breaking through.
It was Wang Po's breakthrough.
Wang Po broke through the realm!
The iron blade burst from its sheath, slashing toward Tieshu!
...
...
This was, without a doubt, the most powerful strike of Wang Po's life.
Heaven and earth had to respond, to show some respect.
The snow falling from the clouds suddenly stopped.
Countless cracks appeared on the ice covering the Luo River, splitting it into thousands of thick, floating chunks.
Those chunks of ice kept rising and falling, as if a furious beast lurked beneath.
In truth, it was the river water, disturbed by the energy of heaven and earth, surging endlessly.
No one knew how long passed before everything fell silent again.
Wang Po stood, gripping his iron blade, gazing into the distance over ten miles away.
His severed arm was nowhere to be found, his body drenched in blood, his face pale, but his eyes were incredibly calm.
Over ten miles away, Tieshu stood on the ice, as if wanting to say something, but in the end, he only shook his head.
He fell backward, into the river filled with ice chunks and withered willow branches, and died.