Yuan Shou, with his feet planted upon an ancient relic sword, wielded a long staff in a whirlwind of motion. His profound protective energy formed a vast sphere, expanding outwards to shatter the descending rain of iridescent, seven-colored glaze.

The golden-armored Great Demon, known as Niu Dao, stood unmoving, allowing the sharp, sword-infused raindrops to batter his armor. He lamented the feebleness of the sword energy, wishing it were potent enough to breach his cage. He would, however, be ready to receive Bai Ye’s full-fledged sword strike later.

Qie Yun gently patted the sword-nurturing gourd at his waist, pitting sword energy against sword energy. He propped a finger against his cheek, squinting at the beautiful, yet perilous scene, muttering about the scattering of elegance amidst the storm.

The hulking giant seated upon the golden prayer mat exhaled softly, diverting the rain and sword energy elsewhere.

Yang Zhi, with his human head and serpentine body, subtly channeled his innate divine power, gathering the raindrops around him. They coalesced into orbs of seven-colored glaze, only to shatter under the onslaught of sword energy. Quickly, they re-formed, and after several cycles of assembly and destruction, the puppet maidens cradling lutes received his command. They collected the sword-infused raindrops into the string slots of their instruments. Most of the lutes succumbed to the fine sword energy, turning both instrument and maiden into dust. Yet, some lutes glowed with a flowing light, as threads of sword energy traced the intricate patterns on the paulownia wood. Eventually, these threads manifested as pure sword intent upon the lute strings. Yang Zhi reached out, pinching a lute between his fingers, and stared intently. A thought flickered through his mind, and the lute strings vibrated, only to snap one by one.

Yang Zhi shook his head at Yuan Shou, who was standing closest, indicating that Bai Ye’s sword energy held no discernible clues for deduction or derivation. They needed to find another opportunity.

Yang Zhi, and indeed all the Great Demons participating in this ambush, needed to understand one thing.

What Way had Bai Ye, at the Fourteenth Realm, merged with the world of Haoran?

Bai Ying, previously seen ruling from a throne of bones, whether on the Sword Qi Great Wall or stationed at Golden Armor Continent, had discarded the skeletal throne. Flesh had grown upon his bones, transforming him into a middle-aged man. He wore a dull, unadorned robe, a manifestation of the abandoned throne.

Beside Bai Ying stood the old sword servant, whose head had been nourished with immortal wine, creating flesh upon bone. He stood over ten feet tall and bore the true visage of the Dragon Lord, but he lacked the Dragon Lord’s spirit. Bai Ying had named him “Long Jian.” The sword servant held the longsword “Candlelight,” a remnant soul of a sword cultivator’s ‘Observation’ that Bai Ying had painstakingly sought out. After expending countless heavenly treasures, he had finally refined it into an Immortal weapon. Mount Tuoyue had long known of this affair, yet feigned ignorance.

Standing atop a Dragon Lord’s skull and refining a wisp of Observation soul, Bai Ying had even struck a private deal with the Ascendant Realm Wan Yan Lao Jing on Golden Armor Continent, surpassing even Talisman Yu Xuan in scheming. He had transformed the decaying Wan Yan Lao Jing into a being akin to a heroic spirit puppet – neither human, nor ghost, nor god, nor immortal. There seemed to be nothing the Great Demon Bai Ying wouldn’t dare to do.

The only benefit Wan Yan Lao Jing gained was the ability to evade the impending Heavenly Tribulation, which would have completely annihilated his Great Dao and his life as a peak Human cultivator. He would live on, even if it meant constant suffering. In the event that the Great Dao truly resided in the Wilderness, Wan Yan Lao Jing might have a chance to rise again, perhaps even as a local mountain spirit.

Bai Ying’s mind was not on the great rain, merely a casual sword drawing by Bai Ye.

He was one of the key players in the ambush of Bai Ye. The “one of” signified that Bai Ying was still unaware if Master Zhou had given secret instructions to other Great Demons.

Long Jian, the sword servant with the Dragon Lord’s face, unleashed a sword strike toward the rain above, cleaving the sky. The sword energy and rain parted to either side of the blade’s streak, as if drawn into a slender river of time that appeared from nowhere. Washed over by the Great Dao, they vanished without a trace.

Bai Ying continued to manipulate his innate divine power, temporarily gathering the spiritual energy of the entire continent.

Bai Ying needed to draw upon all the spiritual energy within the continent’s grand array, or at the very least, contaminate it with foulness and baleful energy. The vast sea of clouds beneath Bai Ying, filled with bones and overflowing with baleful energy, was intended to deplete Bai Ye’s accumulated spiritual energy within his personal world with each sword strike.

Generally speaking, cultivators who had reached the Ascendant Realm and engaged in mortal combat, even using their most deadly techniques, rarely found themselves depleted of spiritual energy. In the Wilderness, where Great Demons lurked everywhere, A Liang was like that. Even when pursued by several Great Demons, he would shatter any signs of encirclement without hesitation. He never held back his sword strikes; this was the key to his survival. With sword in hand, he could travel thousands of miles in an instant. A Liang was not afraid of spells or techniques; he could withstand a few divine abilities. His only fear was being trapped and depleted of his spiritual energy.

As long as a cultivator’s personal world mirrored the vast world, their being would be connected to a blessed land, providing a wellspring of energy. For cultivators at the peak, having such a source of life was incredibly difficult to overcome.

Battles between Ascendant Realms often involved each side displaying their unique abilities, with both the weather and terrain acting as variables. Victory and defeat were commonplace. Whether the two sides possessed truly disparate strength could only be determined by one factor: the ability to kill the opponent. Whether it was the Great Demons of the Wilderness, or the Ten from the Central Continent, or the Ten from Haoran, attaining a seat upon the throne or a ranking among the ten depended on whether they had truly killed an Ascendant Realm Grand Cultivator. Or, at the very least, rendered one utterly helpless. For example, Fire Dragon Real Man once blocked the gates of Green Water Pit for months, capable of swatting away an Immortal Realm cultivator with a single palm. As for Talisman Yu Xuan, he casually killed a Jade Purity Realm demon cultivator on the Golden Armor Continent battlefield without even casting a spell. But, in the eyes of true peak cultivators, that was utterly insignificant.

If Haoran’s rules weren’t so restrictive, such “insignificance” would be far more common.

Therefore, Ascendant Realm cultivators in the Wilderness were often adept at assessing situations, proactively choosing to attach themselves to stronger individuals or completely avoiding the secluded territories of the Great Demons. Take the old blind man’s guard dog, for example. It was once a renowned Ascendant Realm cultivator famed for its ferocity in battle. But what was its fate? After visiting the Sword Qi Great Wall, trying to supplement the old blind man’s family by digging up a few magic treasures, it was scorned for being an eyesore. Kicked away, it didn’t dare to move, not even daring to breathe loudly.
Having ascended to the Ascension Realm, one’s status becomes lofty and detached, the sun and moon seemingly passing over the shoulders, and mountains and rivers viewed within the palm. Alchemists even extol one as having attained the Great Dao of Eternal Life, becoming imperishable alongside Heaven and Earth…

Of course, that’s just hyperbole on the mountain. The Ascension Realm simply doesn’t qualify for immortality alongside Heaven and Earth. Wasn’t Wan Yan Lao Jing, the demon ancestor, left with nothing but to await his demise?

The closer one gets to the summit, the fewer the paths. Eventually, those cultivators who reach the very top are left with only one road to take: breaking through to yet another realm. This requires a unique communion with Heaven and Earth, a different kind of harmony for each of the fourteenth realm cultivators. However, regarding this matter, firstly, the number of fourteenth realm cultivators across all the heavens is still exceedingly small. Secondly, those who truly attain this realm keep it shrouded in secrecy. Involving the very foundation of the Great Dao, they dare not speak of it, as that would be akin to surrendering half their lives.

What was the ending for the Old Scholar who harmonized with the three continents of the Great Righteous Heaven? His mountains and rivers, his qi and luck, were precisely and meticulously cut away by Wen Hai, and refined into a Dharma robe for Xiao Xun to wear.

Bai Ye gently grasped the Immortal Sword Tai Bai, held it horizontally before him, and flicked a finger.

The longsword trembled, a beam of snow-bright sword light like an autumn rainbow, clear and profound. Sword qi and water vapor together formed a swirling vortex like a dragon’s pool, flying and unpredictable, the sun and moon both within the autumn rainbow. White light wove around the thunder, gazing at the moon reflected in water, the sword qi like misty clouds, a vision of indistinct, ever-changing weather.

The moon of Emei, the moon of Fuzhou, the moon of Luoshui, the moon of immortals dangling their feet, the exquisite moon on crystal curtains, the moon of the vast cloud seas of Tianshan… Bai Ye, in his youth, visited immortals with friends and saw countless moons in the mortal realm.

In the end, it seemed that Bai Ye himself was the immortal.

Round after round of bright moons hung in the air, as if six more lanterns had appeared out of thin air, varying in size and height, positioned precisely above the heads of the six Grand Demon Kings.

The moonlight instantly converged into a single line.

The sword light struck straight down.

The Ape-Head slightly furrowed his brow. This kind of swordsmanship was frighteningly ornate, befitting a fourteenth realm cultivator. The cultivator’s inner vision almost matched the truth of the Great Dao.

Fortunately, Bai Ye was not a sword cultivator.

The Ape-Head suddenly grew to a hundred zhang tall, bringing his cudgel down upon the sword light. The surrounding spiritual energy surged wildly. Whether it was moonlight or sword light, it shattered into thousands of fine flying swords. The sea of clouds beneath the Ape-Head’s feet, where he hovered with his sword, was smashed open, creating a massive crater.

The golden-armored god remained motionless, enduring the sword strike head-on, allowing the sword light to pierce his skull. His golden armor trembled violently, shattering further.

Yang Zhi used his massive serpent tail to sweep away the sword light, instantly becoming a bloody mess, a huge gash appearing on his true form. However, Yang Zhi seemed oblivious, the shocking wound healing and closing at a speed visible to the naked eye.

The Ape-Head, standing upon the ancient longsword “Qun Zhen,” pointed his cudgel towards Bai Ye above and laughed loudly: “Bai Ye, are you only capable of these flashy tricks? They are far inferior to the splendor of the three swords that slew Yao Jia before. Or have you already been injured after those three swords?! Why bother testing the depth of our six’s cultivation? You are doomed to die anyway, so why not learn from Dong San Geng and be decisive, aiming to exchange your life with mine?”

Regardless, Bai Ye would certainly try to exchange his life with one of them. The Ape-Head certainly minded Bai Ye’s sword landing on him, but once Bai Ye went all out with his sword, whether it was three swords or five, who knew which of them he was trying to kill? It was impossible to guess. With his ferocity stirred, the Ape-Head truly wanted to see what choice Bai Ye would make before his final end.

Was he afraid of death, deliberately stalling for time, waiting for Fu Lu Yu Xuan’s rescue? Or did he have even grander thoughts, already pinning his hopes on that Sage Master, hoping he could extract himself from the Great Dao contest between the two heavens and save him, Bai Ye? If so, then the Great Ancestor of Tuo Yue Mountain would definitely shatter the mountains and rivers for tens of thousands of miles in the Old Dragon City battlefield of Treasure Bottle Continent, or the remaining northern territories of Golden Armor Continent.

Bai Ye was too lazy to exchange even half a sentence with this Ape-Head.

He casually wiped the sword’s body, and tens of thousands of golden characters instantly appeared, densely packed together in a small space.

Bai Ye smiled: “Go.”

A sword light flashed and disappeared, as if a sword cultivator had unleashed their natal flying sword. It took the lead in delivering to the Ape-Head a “ordinary” sword comparable to that of an Ascension Realm sword cultivator.

The remaining five Grand Demon Kings also had to receive a sword each. None could stand idle. Before meeting him, Bai Ye, their various plans were one thing, but now they still wanted to scheme, were they not tired?

“Well done, this grandpa will shatter the flying sword with his cudgel!”

The Ape-Head laughed loudly, changing to holding the cudgel with both hands, leaning to the side and striking the sword light that arched towards him. The vast power of this cudgel was indeed quite impressive. There was not a single cloud within a hundred miles beneath the longsword “Qun Zhen.”

The demon Niu Dao, whose entire body was radiating golden light, even daring to strike a pose of resigned acceptance when facing Bai Ye before, now frowned slightly. Had Bai Ye found his little flaw in the Great Dao so quickly? Instead of allowing the sword light to break through his armor, he revealed a massive dharma body and grabbed the sword light. After clenching his fist, golden light poured from between his fingers like waterfalls hanging in the air.

At the same time, Niu Dao activated a natal divine ability, moving mountains and overturning seas within his small human body, actually directly changing the ten or so cave dwellings where his natal objects were placed. The surging spiritual energy in his body changed course like a flood, eventually changing the lake where he had “stationed.”

The handsome demon Qiè Yùn smiled and pinched a sword seal with two fingers, gently pointing: “Go too.”

Previously using sword qi against sword qi, now using sword light against sword light. Dozens of miles away, two sword lights collided like flying swords.

On Bai Ying’s side, it was still the sword attendant responsible for receiving the sword. Thankfully, the longsword in Long Jian’s hand was a true Immortal Weapon, and because it was refined by observing the soul, it had a unique mystique. Bai Ying did not need to go into battle herself. Bai Ying had always been inconspicuous in combat, and in the barbaric world where strength was respected, she had always been regarded as one of the weakest of the fourteen kings in terms of destructive power. Bai Ying hardly even had a record of fighting Ascension Realm demons in single combat. More often, she drove legions of white bone soldiers, overwhelming opponents with sheer numbers. If there were any troublesome opponents, she would at most let Long Jian draw his sword. Moreover, there were quite a few experts under Bai Ying’s Bone Burial Ground.

The Lotus Hermit who wasn’t in her dojo and was stuck in the mortal realm, and Yang Zhi who was far away from the Water Shaking River domain, would be considered “lacking in combat power” if they encountered the other Grand Demon King Huang Luan.

The Ape-Head struck down the second sword light, his robes fluttering for a time, his two sleeves, billowing with gang winds, rustling loudly. The Ape-Head’s figure swayed slightly, and he squinted his eyes, saying: “Bai Ye, if you have the ability, come again with seventeen or eighteen sword lights, grandpa wants to see if you have more sword lights… Tsk! You really came…”

As you wish.

Many words, many swords.

One sword light after another went straight to strike the Ape-Head.
He took special care of this great demon of the throne.

Yuan Shou burst into laughter, transitioning from shattering sword light with his cudgel, to deflecting it, and then to parrying it. It was a precarious situation, each sword light cleaving the sky, dissecting the world as easily as a paper cutter slicing through a sheet of pristine white Xuan paper.

Gripping his cudgel with both hands, Yuan Shou’s ferocity was palpable, his eyes bloodshot, with a golden gleam flickering within each pupil. Even as he shattered sword after sword, Yuan Shou kept his gaze fixed on Bai Ye, who wielded his sword with a single hand. His vision encompassed a thousand miles, with several figures of Bai Ye brandishing their swords. One of these “Bai Ye” figures, relatively clearer than the others, even revealed the trajectory of his sword strikes. This was one of Yuan Shou’s innate divine abilities: Insight into Heavenly Secrets, prescience of events to come.

The demon race was renowned for their robust physiques. Yuan Shou’s face, mangled by countless fragments of sword energy, recovered almost instantaneously. The same held true for his robes. As a great demon of the throne, who had lived for eons, he couldn’t bear to traverse the world without donning a robe of immortal artifact grade.

On the battlefield of the Sword Qi Great Wall, great demons of the throne rarely acted, and even fewer exerted themselves to the fullest. They were mostly complying with the orders of the Jiazi Account, responsible for overseeing the demon army’s siege warfare.

The gray-robed old man intended for them to focus their attention on the Vast Sky world.

Liu Cha drew his sword, solely for A Liang’s sake.

Unless the Grand Ancestor of Mount Tuoyue personally suppressed him, A Liang, with his fighting style that disregarded being surrounded and outnumbered, would undoubtedly destroy several military tents.

During the later stages of the war, Yao Jia attacked the City Lord of one of the five cities and twelve towers of White Jade Capital. This was out of greed, deliberately targeting the exhausted Daoist sage. However, it infuriated the latter, who, even at the cost of his own death and dissipation, summoned Lu Zhi to deliver a sword strike. Lu Zhi did not disappoint, nearly completely severing Yao Jia’s painstakingly crafted golden essence throne with a single blow. Yao Jia’s frantic destruction of mountain and water shrines in Fuyu Continent, and his massive plundering of golden body fragments to replenish his great Dao foundations, stemmed from this event.

Yang Zhi spoke to Bai Ying with her mind, “Isn’t Bai Ye going to unleash his full sword art?”

Bai Ying replied with a smile, “Aren’t we also holding back, only parrying and not retaliating?”

Yang Zhi asked, “You need half an incense stick’s time to absorb all the spiritual energy of this continent? Do you need my help? If that Bai Ye disregards his reputation, it will be troublesome.”

Bai Ying nodded, “I would be delighted.”

In truth, if Bai Ye were to compete with her for spiritual energy, it would indeed be troublesome.

However, the trouble would be for Bai Ye, not for the six of them, great demons of the throne.

This hunt, led by Bai Ying through draining the pond to catch the fish, was employing a clumsy method to deal with a Fourteenth Realm cultivator.

Zhou Mi had not explained precisely how it would be troublesome if Bai Ye, while fighting, opened the gates of his numerous blessed lands, and absorbed vast amounts of spiritual energy. He had only instructed him to obstruct Bai Ye as much as possible when he tried to seize the spiritual energy, lest Bai Ye see through the truth.

Regardless, being trapped in this situation was a major predicament for Bai Ye. Either he remained calm and collected, waiting for the spiritual energy to be exhausted before dying from exhaustion, or he lost his composure and died sooner.

As it stood, Bai Ye was either too proud or had already sensed something amiss.

None of it would hinder the overall plan.

Yang Zhi, adorned with an emperor’s crown and dressed in a black dragon robe, lowered her head to gaze upon a landscape map that spanned millions of miles in the air, rendered in black and white, unlike the real mountains and rivers of the human world.

Yang Zhi bypassed the Five Sacred Mountains and other mountain ranges. All the rivers and lakes within her sight instantly began to churn, and the spiritual energy of the world was drawn into the water, solidifying into water essence.

First, Bai Ying, controlling the sea of clouds, absorbed the spiritual energy of the world, while simultaneously using evil aura to disrupt the atmosphere of the continent. Then, Yang Zhi controlled the rivers and lakes, devouring spiritual energy like a whale.

Clearly, they were joining forces to transform Fuyu Continent into a desolate land, despised by all Qi refiners.

Taking advantage of Bai Ye’s sword light focusing on Yuan Shou, and with nothing else to do, Qie Yun pinched his fingers together and lightly touched the sword-nurturing gourd at his waist, saying with a smile, “Since I’m idle anyway, I’ll lend a hand.”

From now on, the mountain’s immortal wines would have the most spiritual energy. Qie Yun, now known as Jiu Ye (Wine Dimples), felt that he would be reluctant to drink them.

He had arrived at the Sword Qi Great Wall, taking the name Qing Hua, and witnessed the Sword Immortals of the Sword Qi Great Wall shatter like porcelain.

He had arrived in the Vast Sky world, taking the name Jiu Ye, and, in addition to collecting all kinds of immortal wines, he excelled at skinning female cultivators to patch his face. The Yulong Sect near Upside-down Mountain, the Yuzhi Gang of Tongye Continent, the Yuanju Sect whose ancestral mountain was Konghou Mountain…

His travels in the Vast Sky world had been worthwhile.

The only one who wasn’t idle was probably the old man wielding the cudgel with both hands.

There were simply too many sword lights, one after another, making it impossible to rest. Each seemingly casual sword strike was a natal flying sword from an ascension realm sword cultivator.

One sword light was swept away by Yuan Shou’s cudgel, plummeting towards a mountain range beneath the sea of clouds, causing it to collapse and be flattened into a plain.

Another sword light was smashed into a large river, not only creating a hundred-zhang tidal wave but also forming a massive lake on the spot, with the river flowing into it, causing the downstream water level to drop by several feet.

Yuan Shou roared, “Is this ever going to end?!”

Part of it was his extreme frustration at being singled out. He dared not approach Bai Ye and could not escape, making him a laughingstock for the other great demons, as if they were watching a monkey show.

The other part was Yuan Shou’s genuine heartache over the damage to his robe. If this continued, it wouldn’t just be a matter of blemishes, but a drop in grade. The robe was refined from a total of twelve dragon vein mountain roots from various parts of the wildlands, but Bai Ye was unleashing too many sword lights, all of which arrived in an instant. Even though Yuan Shou’s cudgel could shatter or repel the sword light, the fragmented sword energy was still too dense, causing the once self-repairing robe to become increasingly tattered, with countless holes of all sizes.

While using the sword-nurturing gourd to absorb the spiritual energy of the world, Qie Yun smiled and said, “Ancestor Yuan’s cudgel skills are impressive. After this battle, your fame will surely spread throughout several worlds. Shattering seventeen sword lights from Bai Ye is more noteworthy than shattering a continent’s ancestral hall. Eighteen sword lights now!”
Holding a staff in his bloodied hands, Yuan Shou first deflected a flying sword-light. Then, with a sweeping blow, he cleaved it in two. Such was the terrifying nature of Bai Ye’s swordplay; even a fragmented light could relentlessly pursue Yuan Shou. Escape was futile. With a furious roar, Yuan Shou’s elderly visage morphed, taking on simian aspects. Employing the magic of spatial displacement, he teleported hundreds of miles, shattering the two sword-lights.

Previously, Yuan Shou had grown “lax,” his staff strikes weakened, allowing three sword-lights to converge upon him. This resulted in a grievous gash across his nape, nearly costing him his head. Though the loss of his head was not a matter of grave consequence, barely affecting his Dao roots – for Yuan Shou’s true form was among the sturdiest of the fourteen thrones – he would have to make a trip to move a mountain, retrieving his head. Even if it were chopped off and pulverized by the sword-light, Yuan Shou could instantly regenerate another. But such a wound would be real and substantial, far beyond the restorative powers of even dozens of Pipa Maiden pills from Yang Zhi.

Yuan Shou shattered the sword-lights with his staff, employing no flashy techniques, only a dull, repetitive, straightforward approach.

Hence, the wonder of Bai Ye’s eighteen sword-lights remained unseen. But if any Qi refiner were to witness the battle, their Dao hearts would likely shatter on the spot.

Each time Bai Ye’s sword-light burst and scattered, both it and Yuan Shou’s staff-strike aura contained a fragment of Dao intent. For any cultivator to attempt to temper their Dao heart by observing this battle was akin to making enemies of both combatants.

Qie Yun, ever considerate, preemptively cursed himself before Yuan Shou could unleash his own tirade, playfully scolding, “Shut your pansy mouth, grandpa’s fighting!”

Yuan Shou spat out blood, finally understanding how Qie Yun could teach a junior like Fei Ran, who rivaled the young Hidden Official and Sword Immortal Shou Chen. Fei Ran, the leader of Mount Tuoyue’s hundred sword immortals, was said to be a disciple accepted by Qie Yun on behalf of his master.

The great demon Niu Dao spoke in a muffled voice, “Who goes first? Let’s not dawdle; what’s the point?”

In truth, from the six throne-level demons’ simultaneous appearance to Bai Ye’s drawing his sword and shattering the crystal barrier, to the eighteen sword-lights assailing Yuan Shou, it barely amounted to a few sips of wine for a common scholar at a dinner table.

The burly giant, the demon Wu Yue, sat cross-legged on a golden futon. Rising, his six arms simultaneously grasped divine weapons, he laughed, “Having witnessed Master Bai’s poetry transformed into sword qi, I shall use a Martial Sage’s divine arrival, coupled with an Ascendant realm, to experience Master Bai’s peerless Immortal Sword Taibai.”

A Qi refiner, an Ascendant realm. A pure martial artist, the tenth realm “Divine Arrival.”

As Wu Yue rose, not only did he wield weapons, but the futon formed from countless golden books instantly transformed into eleven golden talismans, affixed to his ankles, the centers of his three brows, and his six arms.

Bai Ying, using luminous white bone beads to precisely gauge the remaining spiritual energy in the realm, smiled at the burly giant. “Do be careful. Bai Ye wields, after all, an Immortal Sword from the Great Profound Capital Temple. You needn’t be so hasty, Wu Yue. Waiting another half-incense stick wouldn’t hurt.”

Wu Yue shook his head, ignoring Bai Ying’s advice. His form shrunk to the height of a common man, his six arms wielding twin blades, a straight sword and a horse-cleaving dao, long and short swords, along with a hammer and an axe.

Once, the most dejected Confucian scholar in the Great Vast World, Zhou Mi now hosted the most successful literati. The courtesy was considerable, not only deploying six throne-level demons to besiege Bai Ye but also setting up triple-layered restrictions around Fuyu Continent.

The outermost layer was the flow of the continent’s destiny, enveloping all of Fuyu Continent, completely severing its spiritual connection with the Great Vast World. This resembled the Three Walls and Four Symbols Array of Tongye Continent in the past and the Twenty-Four Solar Terms Array of Treasure Bottle Continent today.

This ensured that in this already lopsided battlefield, the timing and terrain always favored the throne-level demons of the Wildlands.

The vast continent became the arena for only seven combatants.

The shattered crystal barrier, cleaved by Bai Ye’s drawn sword, was a portion of the River of Time, meticulously extracted by Zhou Mi, serving as the second small world.

Between these two lay a Dharma Body Heaven and Earth Mountain and River Array, formed from the Five Sacred Mountains and hundreds of rivers of Fuyu Continent. Situated beneath the sea of clouds, it resembled a detailed landscape painting, with Zhou Mi having dragged the “Mountain and River Dharma Aspect” to the skies above Fuyu Continent. The mountains were scattered like stars, and the river networks crisscrossed, perfectly dividing Fuyu Continent’s “Heaven and Earth” in two, reminiscent of the Separation of Heaven and Earth, one of the greatest merits of the Rite Saint.

To encircle and eliminate the Fourteenth Realm Bai Ye, Zhou Mi spared no expense.

Bai Ye merely shook his head, noncommittal, as Wu Yue rose.

In an instant, six “thrones” landed with a resounding boom on either side of Bai Ye, gradually spreading out, three on each side.

Except each throne-level demon held a long sword.

“You confine me, Bai Ye, with three worlds. Why shouldn’t I confine my enemies with the worlds within my heart?”

In his youth, filled with ambition, he traveled with his closest friend, visiting immortals, his vision encompassing the grandeur of mountains and rivers. What thing, what event, what person had not been a world within his eyes?

Wu Yue bent slightly and stomped heavily on the ground, not employing the spatial displacement technique, charging straight ahead. With each step, the void rippled, the spiritual energy within a hundred miles surging wildly.

A blade severed the head of the sword-wielding “Wu Yue,” shattering and dissipating before coalescing elsewhere. The six throne-level demons manifested from Bai Ye’s heart surrounded and attacked Wu Yue.

Wu Yue was stalled, temporarily unable to fight Bai Ye’s true form. Three heads, six arms, his form darted like lightning, elusive, shattering the Dharma Aspects with each blow, counter-killing the six illusions.

Wu Yue wanted to see how long these aspects of Bai Ye’s heart could last and whether Bai Ye needed to expend spiritual energy.

Qie Yun chuckled, gently stroking his sword-nurturing gourd, “Truly, a Sword Immortal, Bai Ye.”

Admiration, yearning from the heart.

The inscription on the bottom of Qie Yun’s sword-nurturing gourd was remarkably long:

“May I obtain three million Immortal coins, befriend all beauties and luminaries, and drink a thousand catties of fine wine with all Sword Immortals in the world.”

If Bai Ye were to die today, then the world for ten thousand years to come might never see another like him.

As for Wu Yue, his actions were not surprising.

Demons possessed a great natural advantage in martial arts. Entry was easy, and progress was swift, but reaching the pinnacle was more difficult than for humans. After all, there was no such thing as an entirely free advantage in the world.
Because, compared to the Human Race, the Demon Race experiences less intrinsic suppression from the Grand Dao when cultivating martial arts. However, there are both advantages and disadvantages to this; lacking the necessary tempering, the number of tenth-realm martial cultivators in the desolate lands is actually fewer than in the Blessed Lands.

In truth, the martial path as it exists today is essentially half of the path to becoming a god from an earlier era.

The gods imposed numerous restrictions on the Human Race; the fluctuations of the heart, the complexity of thought, and the instability of the soul are just a few.

The innate fragility of the physical body is another, because humans are destined to be intertwined with the River of Time from the very beginning. The River of Time continuously erodes the flesh, making human lifespans short and posing a significant limitation.

In the ancient Heavenly Court, there were countless gods. The humans beneath their feet were mere ants, and even though their appearance and innate physiques were designed to be similar to the closest gods, they were still too weak. This led to dissatisfaction among some gods accustomed to the offerings of incense. Even when they deliberately allowed these ants to gather in large numbers, with the human population first reaching millions living together, when gods descended to the mortal realm, the earth shattered, mountains and rivers were destroyed, and all perished. This was incomparable to the gods’ mutual slaughter or their obliteration of slightly larger demons.

Therefore, even before arcane arts and divine powers arrived in the mortal realm, the gods proactively bestowed upon the Human Race the path of martial arts to strengthen their bodies. The Golden Body Realm was initially a bottleneck, the end of a dead-end road.

However, outstanding talents emerged among the Human Race. The First Ancestor of the Strategists became the first being in the mortal realm to break through the Golden Body Realm. Afterward, his progress was unstoppable, reaching ever greater heights, followed by many others. When the gods noticed this, they nearly annihilated all humans who broke through the Golden Body Realm bottleneck. Only this individual, under the protection of a Supreme God, managed to escape divine scrutiny and personally named the three realms of the Pinnacle Stage: Vigorous Qi, Returning to Truth, and Divine Arrival. But ultimately, for some unknown reason, martial arts achievements stopped there, and from then on, it became known as the Pinnacle of Martial Arts.

During this time, some gods regarded this person as half a comrade, while others coldly observed, coveting more incense from the mortal realm. As human martial arts advanced, the incense became purer and more substantial.

Therefore, the Strategists possess the merit of this Grand Dao of the mortal realm, similar to martial arts grandmasters with martial fortune, enabling later Strategist cultivators to disregard moral gains and losses and the karmic consequences of the mortal realm more than other Qi Refiners. Ultimately, Strategist cultivators are innately the furthest removed from the River of Time. The pure martial cultivators and Strategist cultivators are even more closely related.

Since the Human Race is destined to be unable to avoid the River of Time, they can only turn to “drinking its water.”

This was originally the most helpless choice for the Human Race. But as time passed, the universe gave rise to Qi Refiners, distinct from the gods. Coupled with the favor of a Supreme God towards the Human Race, who transmitted sword techniques from the heavens to the mortal realm, and the continuous advancements of the Human Race, more and more arcane arts and divine powers were driven down to the mortal realm. The River of Time became one of the biggest unforeseen consequences of the gods’ collapse and the Heavenly Court’s division.

Yuan Shou asked Bai Ying telepathically, “Can that observation of the soul reveal any clues?”

Bai Ying smiled and said, “Tracing back to the source, there is a glimmer of hope. I fear that Bai Ye is deliberately doing this.”

Yuan Shou was somewhat irritated. “Unsatisfactory, unsatisfactory. Bai Ye is just a Confucian scholar, not a sword cultivator. His true form is far inferior to ours. If we swarm him, are we afraid he won’t expose his Fourteenth Realm Dao Integration? Yue is familiar with you. Greet him for me. He does his thing, and I’ll find an opportunity to strike Bai Ye with my cudgel, splattering his brains everywhere. Let’s see what he can do then.”

Bai Ying suppressed a smile and said, “You’ve been talking for half an incense stick. What’s the rush? Bai Ye isn’t even anxious. There’s even less reason for us to be.”

Yuan Shou, who was innately irritable, was about to continue speaking but then sighed.

This Bai Ye truly doesn’t know whether he is alive or dead, allowing Bai Ying and Yang Zhi to steal spiritual energy without interfering or snatching, but insisting on opposing him.

This time, eighteen sword lights were suspended around Yuan Shou, the sword qi chilling across thousands of miles, with the sword tips all pointing at the old man controlling the swords.

Within the sword light were golden characters.

Bai Ye’s poems are invincible, turning poems into flying swords.

The sword intent of the eighteen sword lights was far greater than before, vast as mountains lying between heaven and earth.

Seeing this phenomenon, Yuan Shou not only felt no fear but instead felt exhilarated. He tore off the magical robe he was wearing, stored it in his sleeve universe, and donned one of the most ancient Dew-Receiving Armors of the Gods, the Mountain Ghost.

This Bai Ye really thinks Grandpa is an easy target?!

Yuan Shou’s joints cracked like thunder. He put away his long sword, “Group of Truths,” and stopped controlling swords. Holding his cudgel in one hand, he heavily stomped the void beside him, revealing his thousand-foot true form, which was still not at its peak of perfection.

The Mountain Ghost armor on Yuan Shou, along with She Yue’s colorful clothes worn in the Sword Qi Great Wall and the Western Mountain temporarily lent to Wei Xian by Chen Ping An, these seven treasured armors were once worn by high-ranking gods in ancient times, illuminating tens of thousands of miles. Therefore, in ancient times, whenever the gods went on patrol, they shone like comets streaking across the sky.

The Dew Armors forged by later Strategists were all imitations. It wasn’t that the artificers’ craftsmanship was poor. In fact, in terms of precision, later Dew Armors were no less than those forged by the gods. Especially the higher-grade Strategist Golden Crow Armors and Warp and Weft Armors, which even surpassed those of ancient times. The only deficiency was extremely fatal; it was still the innate disadvantage of the materials, requiring the refining of divine golden bodies!

In ancient times, the Heavenly Court’s many penal laws were extremely cruel. The Dragon-Slaying Platform was just one of them. The methods of the gods in charge of punishment against those convicted gods were even more shocking.

Later Mountain and Water Gods, City Gods, and the spirits of the civil and military temples, first had to be officially ordained and then have their golden bodies sculpted. In comparison to the ancient gods, they were already greatly inferior and required the infusion of mortal incense. Once they lost their incense, their golden bodies would totter. In contrast, for the high and mighty beings of the ancient gods, the wisps of incense on the human land were important, capable of further refining their golden bodies, but not essential. Without incense, they would still be immortal until the great tribulation that aligned with their innate destiny arrived. If they passed it, they would elevate their divine status; if they failed, their golden blood would merge into the River of Time.

Their corpses would transform into stars.

Eternal silence.

Bai Ye glanced at the false mountains and rivers of the ink-wash painting and then looked at the great demon Yang Zhi.

Earlier, the bright moon transformed into a line, questioning the six Thrones with the sword, containing the Dao intent of directly slashing the flood dragon, which is why Yang Zhi, a member of the dragon species, was the most frightened. The other Throne great demons were actually casually blocking the sword.

Bai Ye looked at the mighty river that had drunk its fill of spiritual energy and smiled. “I am not proficient in the way of water, but I have broken it before, splitting the heaven with my sword.”
With a mere thought, Bai Ye commanded, and rivers broke free from their beds, transforming into massive river-swords, suspended in the air, forming a single, unwavering line. A terrestrial sword-array, a chaotic storm of blades, launched towards the heavens, targeting Yang Zhi, one of the most skilled masters of water-based Dao arts in existence.

Yang Zhi scoffed. The river-swords, upon approaching within a hundred miles, shattered into a torrential downpour, returning to the mortal realm.

“Is Bai Ye still unwilling to draw his true sword?”

Bai Ye turned his gaze towards Bai Ying, the great demon renowned for commanding armies of bone.

Silently, Bai Ye chanted the five true words: Heaven, Earth, General, Law.

“You only see Bai Ye’s border poems in books, but you don’t see the light cavalry with sabers chasing the white clouds.”

It was universally known that Bai Ye “understood a smattering of military strategy.”

Bai Ye murmured, “Even after so many years, ‘Heaven, Earth, Dao, Law, General’ still sounds more comfortable.”

The withered-bone demon, Bai Ying, smiled faintly, finally unleashing his destined treasure. Behind him, a great standard billowed, and a vast army of bone marched towards the charging spirit cavalry.

Then, in an instant, every demon king, whether they had already attacked or not, sensed a subtle premonition.

Bai Ye cleaved through the golden-armored god’s protective armor with a single strike, bisecting both armor and body.

Qie Yun found himself in a similar predicament to Bai Ye, receiving a sword blow. However, compared to the golden-armored god, Qie Yun seemed to only have a thin sword-mark extending downward from his brow. Qie Yun seemed to have forcibly endured the sword, unwilling to separate his body. In reality, Bai Ye had finally truly drawn his sword, and Qie Yun, believing he could not evade, tore his body apart to escape the Tai Bai Sword.

And this was while splitting his focus between two strikes.

What if Bai Ye devoted his full power to a single, focused strike?

Even after enduring the single strike, Qie Yun didn’t rush to rejoin his body. The residual sword qi was too terrifying. If Qie Yun were to immediately merge his body, he would have to fight the sword qi, which would be a losing proposition.

Qie Yun sighed inwardly. It seemed the Great Vastness still possessed a celestial sword, residing within the Celestial Master’s Mansion on Dragon Tiger Mountain in the Central Divine Continent.

Rumor had it that the ancient God of Fire, like the God of Water with his numerous summer palaces and boundless domains, held court on Yinghuo.

Further rumor claimed that Yinghuo had a servant skilled in forging. Using Yinghuo as a furnace, he extracted fire essence as coal, tempered it with the River of Time, and hammered it with stars held in his hand, discarding them when they broke. He forged several longswords for the most powerful deities of the ancient Heavenly Court.

It seemed all the world’s elegance was concentrated in the Great Vastness.

Qie Yun sighed again and again. “It shouldn’t be this way.”

Ten thousand years ago, after the riverbank discussions, there were two secret meetings. One was a debate between the founders of the Three Teachings. The other was an internal dispute within the demon race, causing the Great Ancestor and Bai Ze to part ways.

For ten thousand years since, the Desolate Wilderness has been divided and in constant conflict.

Among the native cultivators of the Great Vastness, the Fourteenth Realm cultivators included the Sage of Rites, the Sub-Sage, the Literary Sage after the union of the three continents, and Bai Ye. Now there was also the sword cultivator A Liang.

As for Bai Ze, the old Taoist priest of the Observation Pavilion, and the Chicken Soup Monk, they were all outsiders to the Great Vastness.

In the Azure Vault, the five cities and twelve towers of the Jade Capital were ruled by three rotating masters, all recognized as Fourteenth Realm.

Could it be that the Desolate Wilderness only had one Fourteenth Realm cultivator, the blind old man?

And had a whole world waited ten thousand years only to produce Xiao Xun, a defector from the Sword Qi Great Wall?

Why did the Crimson Concubine address the Jiashen Account sword cultivator, Yu Si, as “Young Master”? And who was the “Old Master”?

Qie Yun was the elder brother, and Fei Ran was the younger. Qie Yun had accepted Fei Ran as a disciple on behalf of his master, adding a younger brother to their lineage. So who were these two brothers’ master? And were they still alive?

The Mountain Search Map that Bai Ze gave the old scholar didn’t list all the demons of the same generation. The old scholar had no complaints. Did they truly believe Bai Ze, who even called the Sage of Rites “Little Teacher,” had a good temper? Before attending the riverbank talks, Bai Ze’s accomplishments on his ascent to the heavens even surpassed the Great Ancestor of Mount Luotuo. When the sword cultivators broke away, Bai Ze personally killed countless of them.

After Bai Ye truly drew his sword, he only slashed and slashed again, without any elegance.