Chapter 778: The Final Three Swords, the Night, and the Opened Eyes
What was Chen Changsheng’s ultimate trump card? Logically speaking, it was of course the Heavenly Book Monoliths. Whether it was the black stone he obtained from Wang Zhice’s portrait in Lingyan Pavilion or the stone bead from the Zhou Garden that had been tied to his wrist for years, both were the most important objects in the world, irreplaceable supreme existences.
However, the Heavenly Book Monoliths were too profound. With his current cultivation level, he could not fully comprehend them. Normally, he could only use them to nourish his divine sense, not for combat. But tonight, he still hid the Heavenly Book Monoliths behind the three thousand swords and hurled them toward the Demon Lord, because he knew very well that the Demon Lord was the person in the world who understood the Heavenly Book Monoliths best, and thus might be shaken in spirit.
Shaking the spirit was a relatively refined way of putting it. If cruder, it simply meant he wanted to startle the Demon Lord.
Making the Demon Lord jump—only then could he conceal the final sword and strike an unexpected blow.
Now it seemed his idea had succeeded.
The mountains and rivers and night on the Demon Lord’s face were cleaved open by a single sword stroke. A clear, thin, straight sword wound appeared between his brows, and blood flowed out from within.
The Demon Lord’s blood would not be red, of course. Yet unexpectedly, it was not green either, but golden.
Looking at the Demon Lord’s face smeared with golden blood, Chen Changsheng suddenly recalled a certain face on the stone wall of the Hall of Light.
That was a Heavenly God, also a Demon God.
An extremely cold voice rang out, echoing among the snowy ridges, gradually resounding through heaven and earth.
The cold wind howled among the mountains. The snow collapse on the distant solitary peaks became even more terrifying. Crossing the gap in the mountain range, countless lamps shattered in Gaoyang Town, dozens of li away.
The Demon Lord looked into Chen Changsheng’s eyes and said, “Even if Su Li came in person, he could not kill me with a single sword stroke, let alone this mere sword intent he left behind.”
As he spoke, his face showed no emotion, utterly indifferent, solemn and unmatched, absolutely divine.
Then, he suddenly laughed, revealing a full mouth of neat, white teeth.
With this laugh, life’s emotion appeared on that divine face—not peaceful, but primitive, savage, and terrifying.
Chen Changsheng stared at the Demon Lord’s white teeth, his body cold. From leaving Xining Town for the capital until tonight, his greatest unease had once stemmed from the temptation of true blood. But in truth, over these years, the one who had truly made clear his intention to suck his blood and eat his flesh… was only the Demon Lord, and this was already his second attempt.
An unimaginably vast force directly crushed the last sword intent Su Li had left in this world.
That power, carrying a primordial, desolate aura, did not disappear. Instead, it surged along the channel where the sword intent had vanished through the night, rushing toward Chen Changsheng.
Countless faint sounds rang out densely, like a forest suddenly hit by a frost in midsummer, as countless insects fell onto the slightly hard ground.
Chen Changsheng’s arm bones shattered into hundreds of pieces in an instant. Then cracks began to appear on his shoulder blades and sternum, just like the dried lakebed beneath his feet.
A mouthful of blood sprayed from his lips, striking the Demon Lord’s face.
The golden blood was diluted by the crimson color. That broken landscape seemed to arrive at dusk, as the setting sun shone on countless corpses covered in blood.
In the opposite direction of that blood spray, Chen Changsheng left the ground and retreated backward.
A strange glint flashed in the Demon Lord’s eyes.
To break Su Li’s sword intent, he had paid no small price. The injury that had been suppressed for two years erupted again.
Yet Chen Changsheng did not die. He could even still move. This clearly exceeded the limit of what his current cultivation level could bear.
It seemed his body was even stronger than that of a demon clan powerhouse. Why was that?
The cold night wind howled. As he retreated, Chen Changsheng’s figure flickered in and out of sight, extremely hard to catch, as if appearing in several places at once.
Countless stars filled the night. His feet broke through the darkness, stepping precisely on star positions. From the very start of his retreat, he had activated the Yashih Step.
His body had been soaked in the Black Dragon’s true blood, possessing unimaginable toughness. This was the second surprise he brought the Demon Lord.
This was his last chance to escape.
He only needed to take one final step to break through the night and reach a certain spot in the ruins of Lake Garden.
There, a prepared formation awaited, along with an extremely hidden passage leading deep into the mountains.
Of course, even if he reached that place, he might not escape alive, after all, his opponent tonight was the Demon Lord.
No amount of tricks, preparations, or surprises could give him more confidence. Perhaps precisely because he lacked complete confidence, before taking that final step, Chen Changsheng reached through the air toward the black stone in the night sky, while his divine sense descended to the ground.
In front of the Demon Lord was a stretcher, on which lay the young formation master.
Chen Changsheng was confident he could send this young formation master into the Zhou Garden. That way, even if he himself could not survive, the young formation master might still have hope.
However, just as his divine sense touched the stretcher, a very strange thing happened.
An extremely faint yet eerie aura followed his divine sense into his body and attacked his Nether Palace.
This attack was subtle, not powerful, but it very precisely affected the flow of his true essence.
Most critically, he was using the Yashih Step at this moment.
A hair’s breadth off, and all was lost.
South and north reversed; a mistake was made.
His next step should have landed beside an old plum tree several dozen zhang away.
But now, he stepped into empty air.
His foot landed in the night sky.
It was even colder here, the wind fiercer, because this was dozens of zhang above the ground.
The cold wind howled. A shadow blotted out the starlight, and at the same time, a violent, cruel screech arrived.
Sharp pain came from his shoulders and neck.
Nanke appeared behind him. Her sharp, green-tinged fingertips gripped his shoulders, dragging him higher into the night sky. Even more terrifying, an invisible thread seemed to have appeared between her wings, constantly cutting at his throat. In an instant, it had already cut into the flesh, and blood began to drip.
The Demon Lord watched the scene in the night sky, licking the blood at the corner of his lips, calm yet expectant.
With a daughter who possessed the fastest speed in the world, he had no need to worry about Chen Changsheng escaping.
Chen Changsheng was subdued by Nanke, seemingly without any power to resist, only waiting to be killed or eaten.
Just like how he now hung in the cold, high night sky, with nothing to leverage.
But he would not surrender. Fate itself could not make him submit, let alone a real enemy or predicament?
Back then on the wasteland, he had learned three swords from Su Li.
Now, without hesitation, he activated the most powerful among them: the Burning Sword.
This sword contained three sword techniques.
The National Teaching True Sword, also known as the Sword of Slaughter. During the final battle of the Grand Examination, he had once used this sword to force back Gou Hanshi.
The final form of the Lishan Sword Method. Back in the Zhou Garden, Liang Xiaoxiao had used this sword to commit suicide, putting him in a difficult spot, and he had also used it before.
Tonight, he unleashed these two most resolute swords simultaneously.
He did not believe Nanke had the power to stop him… from dying.
As for that final sword… of course, it had to be the Lishan Golden Crow Secret Sword.
Burn heaven, earth, and man clean—what can you do then?
Nanke did not understand his sword intent, but she sensed his intention. Even she, as cold as she was, felt a tremor.
These three swords were too decisive, too absolute.
The Demon Lord’s cold voice rang out again: “Want to die? Not so easy.”
Chen Changsheng’s flesh and blood were his last hope. He would not allow anyone to take them, including Chen Changsheng himself.
He reached toward the sky, and a patch of night fell toward Chen Changsheng!
He would use his supremely domineering ultimate demonic art to forcibly devour Chen Changsheng’s final three swords!
His expression was so solemn, so focused, that he did not notice…
Right in front of him.
Right at his feet.
On that stretcher.
The young formation master suddenly opened his eyes.
…
…
(Celebrating the achievement of ten consecutive days of updates without a break, and very satisfied with the writing. Very happy. Everyone, good night.)