The Great Sword Immortal Yue Qing was clad in a standard robe from the Clothing Workshop, a sword named “Majestic Peaks” hanging at his waist. Yet, compared to this rarely-drawn semi-immortal artifact, Yue Qing actually favored the standard longsword forged by the Sword Workshop. Thus, the sword he leaned upon was crafted by the very same workshop. On the Great Wall of Swords, many sword immortals and earth immortals who cultivated the sword still preferred the style of wearing Clothing Workshop robes and wielding Sword Workshop swords, a trend largely due to Yue Qing’s efforts.

Sword Immortal Zhou Cheng, a woman, still swung on her swing. Long, long ago, a youth who promised to glimpse his homeland died for her at the hands of those so-called “compatriots.” Zhou Cheng carried no visible blade, but the golden threads of sword intent, passed down through her lineage, danced around her, each a sheathed sword in its own right.

Wu Chengpei, a youthful and handsome Jade Purity Realm sword immortal, his eyes bloodshot, his face contorted. “Good, good,” he muttered, “today’s great demons are exceptionally numerous. So many familiar faces, and even more unfamiliar ones.”

Sword Immortal Yuan Qingshu from the Southern娑婆洲 stood shoulder to shoulder with the native Sword Immortal Gao Kui. Gao Kui, his expression grave, used heart-speech to recount the origins and backgrounds of some legendary great demons to Yuan Qingshu. This time, the great demons who had been hiding and fleeing in the barbaric lands for countless years had emerged en masse, gathering on the southern battlefield. It was a situation unseen in ten thousand years. Especially those fourteen great demons at the forefront of the southern land, beings listed at the very beginning of ancient bestiaries like the *Bai Ze Atlas* and the *Search for Mountains Atlas*. Later, widely circulated editions in the Vast Expanse would omit them altogether. Even Gao Kui confessed he had never witnessed them alive. This time, the barbaric lands had gathered them all in one go, saving trouble.

Yuan Qingshu plucked a gourd of nurturing liquor, taking a drink. Each time Gao Kui recounted the ancient origins of a great demon, Yuan Qingshu would sip his wine, using the demon’s name to flavor the drink, finding it exceptionally delightful.

Han Huaizi, Sect Master of the Supreme Emblem Sword Sect, was closing his eyes in meditation, his palm pressed against the hilt of his sword, tapping it lightly from time to time. Standing beside him was Li Cai, Sect Master of Floating Duckweed Sword Lake, who also hailed from the Northern Entirely Continent.

Li Cai’s eyes shone with excitement. “Good heavens, they all look like they can really fight!”

There were also two traveling outsiders, resembling fishermen and woodcutters more than sword immortals, close friends and like-minded individuals from Snowdrift Isle, Sword Immortals Zhang Shao and Li Ding. They had been somewhat heavy-hearted, but they exchanged a glance, understanding dawning on them, both resolute in their willingness to die.

Zhao Ge Yi sat on the ground, glancing back. Cheng Quan, who should have been sitting on the northern battlements, had been severely injured by a great demon, falling from grace and becoming a pathetic Core Formation cultivator taking a stroll. Because he wasn’t an Upper Five Realms sword cultivator, he had left, grumbling all the way. Zhao Ge Yi retracted his gaze, laughing heartily. He and Cheng Quan had always competed since childhood, vying for higher realms, better flying swords, greater killing power, and even the affections of the same woman. Cheng Quan had always won more often. But what about now? Not only was his own realm higher, but when it came to vying for the honor of dying first, Cheng Quan, a mere Core Formation, didn’t even have the chance. Cheng Quan could only eat his dust from behind.

“When I get down there, I’ll go see her first, just to infuriate you, Cheng Quan!”

Nalan Yexing was somewhat annoyed. Couldn’t these beasts from the barbaric lands wait a little longer to seek death? Once he returned to the Immortal Realm, wouldn’t the beasts die more happily under his, Nalan Yexing’s, flying sword?

However, Nalan Yexing was also puzzled. The enemy’s formation looked rather strange. In the past, the vast, surging armies, like locust swarms in the sky and densely packed ants on the ground, hadn’t even fully gathered. Did the barbaric lands intend to rely on these lone great demons to storm the battlements? Had the Consort’s liquor somehow been sold to the barbaric lands, addling these demons’ brains?

Han Huaizi smiled faintly, his expression carefree, full of spirit.

“After this battle, my Supreme Emblem Sword Sect will have no regrets.”

The Hidden Official rubbed his hands together, occasionally wiping the corner of his mouth, muttering, “Looks like a series of one-on-one duels. After this battle, as long as I don’t die, not only can I drink, but I can definitely drink my fill.”

A sword immortal squatted on the edge of the battlements, running his hand along the corner, his expression indifferent, with a hint of recollection, both light and profound, concerning life and death.

Another sword immortal opened a flask of wine, muttering to himself, slowly pouring out the wine, then casually tossed the flask over the battlements.

Old Deafie was expressionless, merely thinking about when he could leave the battlements and return to his little shack. The wind on the battlements was really too strong.

Mi Hu’s expression was grave. This time, it could be said that the visitors were utterly ill-intentioned.

Immortal Realm Li Tuimi gave a wry smile. “Alright, this time, I’m no longer like that Fatty Yan, fattened up to be eaten. Judging by their formation, I’m the dish on the menu.”

On the vast land south of the battlements, a line of fourteen seats was arranged, differing in height and size, like a bizarre ancestral hall of the world.

This was unlike the ancestral halls of the Vast Expanse, with their seat arrangements.

Apart from those fourteen unfamiliar great demons, the remaining so-called great demons, familiar faces on the Great Wall of Swords for the past hundred years, now seemed less like great demons. These prominent figures, who used to be the most eye-catching on the battlefield, attracting the most flying swords, now stood obediently behind that line.

This was the rule of the barbaric lands: simple, crude, direct, even more straightforward than the Great Wall of Swords. As for the Vast Expanse, which loved empty formalities, it couldn’t compare.

Chen Qingdu stood with his hands behind his back, laughing softly, “With sufficient sword skill, looking at this painting before you becomes a beautiful and magnificent artistic conception. It feels like any sword strike can land where it should. What do you think, Left Right?”

Left Right gripped his longsword. “I never think so much when I draw my sword.”

Chen Qingdu glanced further south, thinking, “As expected of the master of this world. Without actively revealing themselves, it’s hard to detect them even from a slight distance.”

Chen Qingdu then retracted his gaze, looking at the guys with the overly dramatic entrances. Some were acquaintances, of course, due to various reasons, such as good luck, escaping quickly, or being thick-skinned, they weren’t killed by him. But that was a long time ago. As for whether there would be “long after” stories, it was hard to say.

The once-deduced result was that gathering the fighting force of half the barbaric lands could devour a Great Wall of Swords. It wasn’t just empty scare tactics.

That was the reality.
These beasts, young and old, great and small, are only good at infighting. And that old, undying fellow is always playing possum, never showing his face. Without a leader, a backbone, and especially without someone who can truly restrain Chen Qingdu, they’re ultimately just a pile of loose sand. Many seemingly assured siege battles were merely slightly more intense, causing them to lose a bit of strength. Then some great demon would arbitrarily lead their army in retreat, taking their tribe back to recuperate. Or perhaps some Great Sword Immortal would penetrate deep into enemy territory and slay a certain great demon. Then the remaining great demons would be too busy devouring the fallen demon’s territory to bother with the Sword Qi Great Wall, a mere chicken bone even if captured.

Thus, there was only one truly perilous occasion in history. That was when the Hall of Valor of the desolate world, Chen Qingdu’s so-called “rat’s nest,” saw nearly half its thrones occupied by their respective masters. They swore oaths, divided spoils, and then came that great battle. That one was truly devastating. If Chen Qingdu remembered correctly, he was the only one left on the city wall. The northern side of the city was nearly breached, and the future of the Sword Qi Great Wall was almost severed completely.

That time, many old-timers in the eyes of young sword cultivators died, and many children in the eyes of young sword immortals perished.

Chen Qingdu sighed and slowly said, “For the three sides, there should be an end.”

After being a prisoner for ten thousand years, he owed himself an explanation.

Far to the south.

There was a broken, inverted mountain, countless massive stones pierced and connected by iron chains. It was similar to the Upside-Down Mountain. The mountain peak faced the ground, and the mountain root faced the sky. The platform of the inverted mountain was as smooth as a mirror, dazzling under the sunlight, like the largest golden coin under heaven. A great demon wearing a golden robe stood there, its face obscured.

The great demon reached out and grabbed a handful of ethereal golden coins, but like scooping water, the coins quickly flowed back to the ground through its fingers. They were not real enough, requiring the mountain and river deities of the Vast World to replenish them. Only then would its golden throne be worthy of its name. According to the agreement, all the fragments of the golden bodies of the mountain and river deities in one continent of the Vast World would belong to it. But it was not enough, far from enough. If it wanted to become like a great sun in the sky, unrestrained by the Dao for millions of years, truly becoming an immortal existence, it needed to devour more. Ideally, it would also devour the reincarnations of those legendary celestial deities to truly be satiated!

There was a vast expanse of interconnected jade palaces suspended in the sky. A great demon in human form sat on a railing, like a miser guarding a massive fortune alone. It smiled and gazed at the Sword Qi Great Wall. It had heard that beyond the city wall, further north, was the Pavilion of Lingering Clouds, made of immortal jade, and Myriad Ravine Residence, where the rustling of pines could be heard on clear, moonlit nights. These could add some beauty to its mansion. However, these were just appetizers. Only by occupying the Pure Scholar Chen Clan of Southern Sobering Continent, the “greatest collection of memorial archways under heaven,” would it be satisfied. And it would be even better to incorporate the ancient Ascension Platform in the small Treasure Bottle Continent, a place with great heaven and earth within.

A massive divine corpse floated in the air. A great demon sat on the corpse’s head, a long spear piercing through the entire head. The spear shaft was hidden, only the tip and butt visible. Faint thunder rumbled at the tip, shaking the entire corpse. The great demon gently patted the spear tip. It had heard that cultivators in the Vast World were skilled in the Five Thunders Rectification, especially the Celestial Master’s Mansion of Dragon Tiger Mountain in Central Earth Continent. It would like to have a taste.

There was a throne of withered bones made from countless skeletons. Hundreds of thousands of corpses, both demon and sword cultivator. A boneless, white jade-like great demon sat on the throne, its foot stepping on the head of an ancient Great Sword Immortal. The great demon, holding a wine glass, drank heartily, and then used its toes to grind the head back and forth. The great demon stopped drinking alone, changed its posture, and tilted the wine glass, pouring crimson wine onto the head. After a moment, the head slowly rose into the air. As more wine poured out of the cup, the head gradually grew flesh, blood, tendons, and bones, eventually transforming into an old man a zhang tall, with a human-like appearance. The white bone great demon flicked its sleeve, and a rainbow of light shot out, grasped by the slightly stiff old man. The moment the dull old man grasped the rainbow of light, he was like a sword immortal holding a sword, his aura majestic.

There was an ancient pillar, a thousand zhang tall, engraved with long-lost runes. A scarlet serpent coiled around it, surrounded by dull, lusterless dragon pearls, circulating erratically. The serpent flicked its tongue, staring intently at the wall. It wanted to smash this rotten fence that had stood for ten thousand years and shatter the inverted mountain. Its only goal was that last little fellow in the human world who could barely be considered a real dragon. From then on, it would complete its great Dao, and it would control the clouds, rain, and water laws of both worlds.

A tattered robe slowly appeared, empty within. It floated in the wind, rustling.

When this inexplicable, masterless robe appeared, the ancient sword intent in the vicinity of the Sword Qi Great Wall rejoiced as if encountering an old friend. More sword intent wailed, and countless sword intent became increasingly violent, as if angrily denouncing the grey robe.

A stunningly beautiful woman wearing an emperor’s crown and a dark dragon robe, with a human head and a dragon’s body, sat high on a mountain-sized dragon throne. Her extremely long dragon body trailed on the ground. Each time the tip of her tail lightly struck the earth, there was a violent tremor that shook hundreds of miles, sending dust flying. Compared to her enormous size, hundreds of thousands of delicate women, as small as dust, were like flying apsaras on a mural, their colorful ribbons fluttering, holding pipa.

There was a small old man with arms as long as an ape, hovering on a sword, carrying a long staff on his shoulder, his hands casually resting on the staff. His eyebrows and hair were all white, but he wore black clothes. The long sword slowly spun. Occasionally, he would inhale and suck one or two pipa-playing women from his neighbor’s side into his mouth, chewing them carefully. The old man wore a string of prayer beads on one of his hands, but the beads were quite rough, just stones of varying sizes with sharp edges.

The woman on the dragon throne nearby didn’t seem to mind, and even waved her sleeve, proactively slapping a dozen “maids” towards the old man, letting him devour them to satiate himself.
A Daoist, clad in a snow-white robe, levitated in the void. His features were obscured, and his height reached three hundred zhang, yet this was not a mere dharma image, but his true form. Behind him hung a radiant crescent moon, as if plucked from the heavens and brought to the mortal realm.

There was also a giant with three heads and six arms, seated upon a colossal futon woven from countless golden scriptures. Even in this seated posture, he towered over his Daoist “neighbor.” A shocking sword scar, deep as a ravine, marred his chest. The giant made no attempt to conceal it; such a humiliation would only be erased when vengeance was exacted.

Far above them, a well-groomed, bearded man stood, a saber at his waist and a sword upon his back. Beside him stood a young man with tattered clothes, bearing a sword rack laden with numerous blades. The swords jutted out behind the frail youth like a peacock’s fan.

At the last secret gathering of heroes in the Hall of Valor, he had received an imperial decree, yet he still failed to attend, unwilling even to show his face. But none dared to question him.

Even higher, a Confucian scholar sat upright, a smile gracing his face, his hands folded over his abdomen. Within his palms rested a luminous orb, the size of a fist, shifting between snowy white, pitch black, and a sudden burst of vibrant colors.

An exceptionally handsome young man occupied a position neither high nor low. He had not only assumed human form, but his stature was also that of an ordinary man. However, upon closer inspection, his face was a patchwork of different skins. A time-worn gourd hung at his waist, filled with the residual souls of sword immortals and countless, battle-worn natal swords. Like the other great demons around him, whose seats were arranged at varying heights, he had long withdrawn from the world. The contents of his gourd were offerings from generations of disciples and grand-disciples.

A burly warrior, clad in golden armor, stood firmly upon the earth, his fists clenched. Thick, viscous golden light poured from the seams of his armor. This suit of immortal armor, though of exceptional quality, was on the verge of falling apart. It was not a treasure willingly worn, but rather a prison, like a miniature world.

Ten thousand years ago, humanity ascended to supremacy, driving the demon race to the vast but barren and spirit-deprived lands. Then, the sword cultivators were exiled to the region now known as the Sword Qi Great Wall, where they began to build and defend their city. This was one of the four realms that once comprised the human world. When the Desolate Land officially became a “realm,” the heavens and earth were like a newborn child; the Great Dao was still in its infancy and had not yet stabilized. Three criminal sword cultivators from the Sword Qi Great Wall, led by Chen Qingdu, sought enlightenment at Mount Tuoyue. After that, the Demon Ancestor vanished without a trace, leaving the demons leaderless. This formed the confrontational structure between the Desolate Land and the Sword Qi Great Wall. The ancient well known as the Hall of Valor was not only the meeting place for the great demons, but also a place of imprisonment. Mount Tuoyue was, in fact, the earliest imperial city, similar to those in secular dynasties. But after the battle of Mount Tuoyue, Chen Qingdu returned alone to the Sword Qi Great Wall. Mount Tuoyue was in ruins, so they rebuilt a “secondary capital,” the Hall of Valor, for deliberations. However, in ten thousand years of history, the fourteen thrones had never been fully occupied. Six or seven was considered a rare event requiring serious discussion, while two or three great demons were often enough to make decisions and take oaths.

After that sudden cataclysm, countless dragons and serpents arose from the mountains, lakes, and wilderness, carving out territories for themselves. This golden-armored warrior was among the most outstanding of them. After the battle, the Desolate Land lost its only leader capable of commanding respect. He sought to claim the title of Overlord of the World. But according to the rules, he was defeated after climbing to the summit of Mount Tuoyue, and was punished by the great demons responsible for guarding Mount Tuoyue, who worked together to imprison him at the bottom of the ancient well within the Hall of Valor.

Unexpectedly, he schemed and conspired, colluding with the outside world. He finally managed to break free, just as a young Daoist riding an ox was wandering through the Desolate Land and arrived at the well. The Daoist stood at the well’s mouth, extended a finger, and gently pressed the great demon, who had finally escaped his bonds, back down into the well. With that single finger, he not only pushed him back into his prison, but also released golden light that firmly bound the great demon. Fortunately, the lifespan of demons was ancient, far surpassing that of the humans raised by ancient gods. Once they chose to hibernate, the passage of time had little effect on them. This allowed him to endure until the old man reappeared, granting him the opportunity to redeem himself with meritorious service.

On the static horizontal line to the south:

An upside-down mountain, a great demon in golden robes.

A great demon sitting alone on a railing amidst jade towers and pavilions, resembling the ancient immortals recorded in the books of the Vast Expanse.

A man atop the head of a divine corpse, the spear piercing the corpse’s skull brimming with the purest thunderous divine intent of the Desolate Land.

Upon a throne of bones, it forged an ancient great sword immortal into a puppet capable of returning to his peak.

The scarlet serpent coiled around the pillar, the master of all water deities in the Desolate Land.

The Daoist in the snow-white robe, having refined half of the essence of one of the three moons of the Desolate Land into his natal treasure.

The three-headed, six-armed giant, who was the first to ascend the Sword Qi Great Wall and survived a sword strike from Chen Qingdu. He would go to the Vast Expanse and shatter every piece of land, large or small, belonging to the Ancestral Hall.

The dragon-robed woman wearing an imperial crown, determined to become the Overlord of the lands beneath the nine continents of the Vast Expanse, controlling the orderly flow of human incense and the rebirth of gods. As a price, she gifted the E’luo River that she possessed to another great demon of her generation, ceasing the infighting within her realm. Before this, neither trusted the other, and both wanted to devour each other. Now, things were different; they had each found greater ambitions.

The owner of the tattered robe, who once followed Chen Qingdu out of the Sword Qi Great Wall to seek enlightenment at Mount Tuoyue, was once the closest friend of the old Grand Sword Immortal.

The bearded man with his only disciple standing beside him, who had once fought with A’liang, had also drunk with him, and had once helped the old blind man move mountains in his spare time.

The Confucian scholar, who would go to the Vast Expanse, and after the complete fragmentation of the human realm, would reorganize the land and teach and guide all living beings with his knowledge, without discrimination.

The great demon, imprisoned in golden armor for countless years, who would not only go to the Vast Expanse, but would also lead his army to the Azure Abyss, to the White Jade Capital.
The old man with the sword intended to refine all the famous mountains of the vast world into his own possessions. He also planned to personally smash those nine majestic strongholds, then ask Bai Ze in person what he was thinking.

The handsome man with a gourd for nurturing swords at his waist felt his ambition was quite modest; he only wished to collect the beautiful faces of the world. The female cultivators on the mountains, even without their faces, could still live. Those who chose death after losing their faces wouldn’t require his intervention; myriad ways to perish awaited them.

These fourteen great demons represented the absolute pinnacle of power in the desolate lands.

Most had been awakened from their endless slumber.

Some, even while remaining conscious, had stayed in their lairs throughout history, choosing to watch the battles at the Great Wall of Sword Qi from afar, never interfering in the sieges that occurred roughly every century.

The seats in the Hall of Valor were not fixed; their number was not predetermined. Some fell, and their thrones shattered, plummeting into the abyss. Others rose, and they could claim a place in the Hall. No seniority mattered; the strong held the high thrones, and the weak could only look up. The history of the desolate lands was a history of the strong trampling the bones of ants, gradually ascending to achieve immortal feats. There were also worldly dynasties, no less impressive than those in the vast world, that rose upon the land with grand rituals and rules, only to ultimately fail. They could not last, unable to withstand the trampling of great demons who shifted from neutrality to hostility, forever fleeting in the river of time.

Individual, overwhelming power was the ultimate pursuit of the strong in the desolate lands.

All else was vanity.

All internal strife, the destruction of countless demon clans, the demise of endless ants, were merely firm steps for a single powerful being to reach the summit.

Then, this small group of existences checked each other to avoid mutual destruction. This was the only rule of this world. The existence of the Hall of Valor, the rise and fall of old and new thrones within the abyss, were all manifestations of this rule.

Suddenly, all fourteen great demons landed.

From the center, a gray-robed old man slowly emerged, leading a child by the hand.

The child clutched the topknot of a head in his hand. The dead man’s eyes were wide, unclosed, showing no fear in his last moments, only unfulfilled hatred.

Behind the gray-robed old man and the child followed a bowed and humbled ascension stage great demon. It was the demon responsible for presiding over the previous siege, the one chased by the new sword immortals on the city walls. The demon named himself Chongguang, an ancient being of respected status in the desolate lands.

Chongguang naturally dared not reveal his true form, swaggering behind the gray-robed old man.

After the gray-robed old man stopped, Chongguang, at the former’s instruction, strode forward, approaching the Great Wall of Sword Qi alone. He announced loudly, “In the next great battle, any sword immortal who does not give their all will not die even if the Great Wall of Sword Qi is breached! They will be free to travel in the desolate lands or to see the sights in the vast world. Any lower five realm sword cultivators on the city walls who do not wish to draw their swords, or who leave the city walls, will be honored guests of the desolate lands, seated in our highest seats!”

Silence reigned above the city walls.

Dong Sangeng sneered, “The upper five realm beasts to the south will be the first to die upon reaching the city walls.”

Chongguang turned his head, realizing that it wasn’t his place to make such threats.

The gray-robed old man patted the child’s head. “Go, you were once acquaintances. Now, as a direct disciple of the Trough-Moon Mountain, pay your respects to Chen Qingdu.”

The child, clutching the dried, blood-caked head, slowly walked forward, picking up speed until his advance was like thunder. Finally, he stopped and heavily threw the head, which rolled on the ground.

The head belonged to a grand sword immortal of the Great Wall of Sword Qi who had been hidden in the desolate lands for six hundred years. He was not only skilled in swordsmanship but also adept at political maneuvering, having orchestrated many conflicts between the great demons.

The child looked aggrieved and said, turning his head, “Master, my realm is too low now, and the sword qi on the city walls is too dense. I can’t throw it all the way up there.”

The gray-robed old man laughed, “The sentiment is enough. Besides, the sword immortals have excellent eyesight.”

The child grinned and shifted his gaze, looking provocatively at the young man beside the bearded man.

The young man said nothing, but the swords on his sword rack all slid an inch out of their sheaths.

The gray-robed old man looked up at the city walls, focusing only on the old sword immortal, Chen Qingdu.

Chen Qingdu, with his hands behind his back, looked down at the earth and met his gaze. Then, he reached out and casually tore the head of an ascension stage great demon from its body from the prison north of the city walls. He instantly crushed it in his hand and smiled, “This head has been reserved for you for many years. He was also a direct disciple of the Trough-Moon Mountain.”

The gray-robed old man smiled, “Chen Qingdu, ten thousand years apart, have you become this powerful?”

After a pause, the old man asked finally, “Shall I let you die again?”

Many foreign sword immortals on the city walls were confused.

Chen Qingdu said, “As expected of someone who has been stewing in resentment underground for ten thousand years. No wonder you speak so boldly.”

The gray-robed old man shook his head. “I heard the new sword is called ‘Long Qi’. It’s not good, no, it’s far too inadequate.”

Chen Qingdu kept his hands behind his back and smiled, “If you were a woman, you might have the ability to know if I’m adequate or not.”

Whistles erupted on the city walls.

It seemed that it wasn’t just the sword cultivators inside the city who enjoyed that sort of thing.

Sword immortals were much the same.

The child returned to the gray-robed old man and tugged at his sleeve. “That was a convincing retort.”

The gray-robed old man wasn’t annoyed in the slightest. He looked down at the disciple whom he had searched so hard for, who was still missing parts of his soul, and instead laughed. “These people, whether alive or dead, whether they are sword cultivators or not, their greatest strength is their lip service. If you ever want to learn such a low-class skill in the future, you can learn it anywhere in the vast world.”
The great demon perched on the railing of the celestial mansion chuckled, “Chen Qingdu, you are truly worthy of respect, hatred, and pity, but pity most of all. Imprisoning these great demons instead of killing them, using them as whetstones for sword immortals and as a source of production for that alchemy workshop, you must have been cursed by many scholars of the Magnificent Celestial Domain, right? Dragging the entire Sword Qi Great Wall to await death here, you must also be hated by your own people? Don’t you think you are pitiful? You’ve already died once, yet people still point fingers behind your back. Chen Qingdu, Chen Qingdu, if I were you, I’d rather die in peace.”

Chen Qingdu didn’t even glance at this peak great demon.

He looked around at the ethereal jade pavilions and asked, “Are you even worthy to speak to the Greatest Sword Immortal?”

The great demon laughed, “Perhaps speaking to Chen Qingdu is a bit beyond my qualifications, but speaking to you should be more than enough.”

The child once again walked out alone, finally reaching the side of the head. He stepped on the Greatest Sword Immortal’s head, looked up, and smiled, “I am twelve years old now. Doesn’t your Sword Qi Great Wall have many geniuses? Send someone of a similar age to fight me! I won’t bully you. Any sword cultivator under thirty years old is welcome. Remember to bring some semi-immortal treasures, or it won’t be enough!”

Old Sword Immortal Qi Tingji frowned, “This little brat is hoping Ning Yao will appear, exchange her life for his, and then wants you to leave the city wall so that old fox can seize the opportune moment.”

Chen Qingdu nodded and smiled, “That’s the idea. But it doesn’t matter. If we can’t even withstand this provocation, what are we guarding the Sword Qi Great Wall for?”

Chen Qingdu beckoned.

A group of young people appeared behind him, a dozen or so, including Pang Yuanji, Chen Sanqiu, and Dong Huafu.

Chen Qingdu extended his arm, raised the head, and turned to smile, “Who will go and return the favor for me?”

Ning Yao stepped forward, but a hand pressed on her shoulder.

Chen Ping’an said, “I’ll go.”

Chen Qingdu smiled knowingly, “Aren’t you afraid of wasting your only chance like this? What will you do in the next great battle?”

Chen Ping’an smiled, “We’ll worry about that when the time comes.”

Chen Qingdu casually tossed out the head of the Ascension Realm great demon, “Go all out and have a good fight.”

A figure in a green robe leaped onto the city wall, then stepped into the void, ran down the wall, and suddenly stopped, as if his feet were rooted to the ground. With a loud thud, he shot towards the southern earth like an arrow, catching the falling head. He lifted it in one hand, held the other behind his back, and finally landed on the ground.

On the ground, the child flicked his toe, grabbing the dirt-stained head of the sword immortal in his hand and slowly walked forward.

The two sides were about a hundred paces apart.

Chen Qingdu sneered, “The outcome of this match will decide who between you and me steps forward to take a sword, how about it?”

The gray-robed old man nodded, “Why not?”

On the field, facing each other, the child grinned and extended his hand.

Chen Ping’an directly threw out the head of the great demon. At the same time, the child raised his arm, intentionally or unintentionally tossing the head of the sword immortal high into the air.

The child didn’t reach out to catch the head of his fellow demon from Mount Tuoyue. He stomped it into the ground, patted the blood stains on his body, leaned forward, and then folded his arms across his chest, “You guy, you look light and flimsy, not worth fighting.”

The young man in the green robe, however, caught the head, held it in front of him, and gently wiped the face of the unknown great sword immortal, allowing him to close his eyes.

But this very action, this was a fatal flaw.

After the child’s punch, the figure in green retreated dozens of feet, creating a shallow gully in the ground, but he remained standing.

The child stood where the young man had been standing, nodded, and said excitedly, “Not bad, you can keep me entertained for a while.”

Chen Ping’an turned his head and saw the head of the sword immortal vanish into thin air. Great Sword Immortal Yue Qing tucked the head under his arm and cupped his fist at the young man.

The child smiled, “It’s your turn to punch, one chance. After that, I’ll be going all out, and you’ll die very, very quickly. Much faster than my previous opponent, Ning Yao, whose useless parents must have died even faster.”

Chen Ping’an turned to look at the child, then lowered his head, rolled up his sleeves, and a smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. Finally, the smile on his face grew wider and wider, his eyes became more and more silent, and the thing he had been desperately suppressing in his heart rose from the depths.

So finally, when he raised his head.

It was a young face with a ferocious grin.