Trapped within the sword formation, Wu Shuangjiang was both a caged bird and confined to a No-Man’s Land that severely hampered cultivators. He hadn’t expected Chen Pingan to be adept at formations. The earlier coordination with Jiang Shangzhen’s willow leaf had given them a distinct advantage against a Fourteenth Realm cultivator, which surprised Wu Shuangjiang.

The fist delivered by a Tenth Realm martial artist, with every strike resembling a flying sword attack, carried significant weight for any mountaintop cultivator.

The physical resilience of cultivators had always been a weakness, except for those at the Fourteenth Realm who had attained Harmony with Heaven and Earth, undergoing a true transformation and achieving longevity. Harmonizing with humanity, on the other hand, focused more on pursuing the ultimate in killing power, taking a leap onto a higher plane.

For a pure martial artist, the gap between the Ninth and Tenth Realms was an insurmountable chasm. For those seeking ascension through cultivation, reaching the Fourteenth Realm was akin to ascending to the heavens.

Wu Shuangjiang recalled the azure-robed swordsman who had been dueling with Ning Yao, and “Ning Yao” stood shoulder to shoulder with him. Positioned on either side of Wu Shuangjiang, he entrusted the four imitation Immortal Swords to them. “Chen Pingan” carried the Tai Bai on his back, wielding the Wanfa sword. “Ning Yao’s” sword box contained Tianzhen, and she held the Daozang. Instructed by Wu Shuangjiang, they sought opportunities to shatter the miniature world, or at least break through its restrictions.

As for the sword formation, Wu Shuangjiang would naturally lead the sword charge himself.

Being within a No-Man’s Land meant that every use of spells and divine abilities consumed spiritual energy, and Wu Shuangjiang was no exception.

After all, the way a Harmonious cultivator like Bai Ye could wield his sword endlessly as long as he had poetry in his heart was simply beyond comprehension.

Thousands of flying swords shot forth.

Wu Shuangjiang formed a hand seal with his index and middle fingers, standing tall like a deity. Stars materialized around him, seemingly mimicking Cui Dongshan’s constellation diagram. Interconnected by faint threads, the stars shifted and revolved in an orderly fashion, imbued with abundant Daoist intent. Wu Shuangjiang pointed twice more in the air, adding a sun and moon. The sun, moon, and stars cycled endlessly, forming a great formation of a round heaven and a square earth.

Countless flying swords, like thousands of sword cultivators, flew through the air, attacking Wu Shuangjiang, who seemed like a central deity.

The relentless onslaught of flying swords shattered the illusory stars, but Wu Shuangjiang restored them. Looking up, sensing he might not be able to withstand the sword formation, he raised his hand, his palm filled with a handful of flower and tree seeds. Tilting his hand, the seeds fell, landing on a layer of emerald water rippling beneath Wu Shuangjiang and his two “sword attendants.” As the seeds fell into the “water,” they created golden ripples of energy in the No-Man’s Land.

Creating miniature worlds was effortless for Wu Shuangjiang. A cassia tree appeared, with a full moon hanging on its branches, beneath which a deity chopped at the tree with an axe – a scene from the ancient Moon Palace. A peach tree materialized, its branches covered with paper kites bearing talismans, radiating golden light – a technique of a certain Daoist from the Great Profound Capital Temple. Lily pads stood tall and graceful, varying in height and size – a picturesque sight from the Lotus Grotto Heaven.

Each flying sword manifested from Well-in-the-Moon shattered, leaving behind a string of golden characters – talismans drawn by Cui Dongshan, poems by sages, or True Forms of the Five Peaks from different dynasties, or various versions of the Bai Ze Monster Compendium throughout history. As the flying swords and talismans advanced like an army, clearing a path with the sword formation and paving the way with talismans, they crashed open a road through the starfield, with lotus flowers mending the breaches. Each golden paper kite that detached from the peach tree transformed into an ethereal, faceless Daoist in azure robes, wielding a golden horsetail whisk. Suspended in the sky, they stood as a single person defending the pass, redirecting countless sword tips with a flick of their whisk, causing them to collide with the sword formation behind.

The burly figure resembling the woodcutter deity in the Moon Palace, with golden eyes scanning the surroundings, would occasionally hurl his axe, not only shattering the vast star-river-like sword formation but also flashing past, ignoring the sword formation’s restrictions, heading straight for Chen Pingan’s true body. Chen Pingan found himself unable to dodge each time, forced to manifest a Dharma Image – a thousand-foot tall figure in crimson robes, smashing the giant axe with a palm strike.

There were simply too many flying swords, layers upon layers of sword formations suspended endlessly in the sky, like an army gathering, poised to strike. Wu Shuangjiang was slightly surprised by the inherent power of one of the flying swords. Chen Pingan had the advantage of being in his own territory, which wasn’t surprising, but controlling a second flying sword required immense focus. Even though Chen Pingan didn’t need to expend too much spiritual energy in his own miniature world, the drain on his spirit and energy was considerable. This meant that the young Hidden Official not only relied on the physique of a martial artist at the pinnacle realm but also hadn’t neglected cultivating his Daoist heart. Otherwise, a Jade Purity Realm sword cultivator would have long since become dizzy controlling so many flying swords.

The cassia-chopping axe wasn’t very powerful in terms of raw strength, but its unique ability was to find people. It was actually a Jade Axe Talisman crafted by Wu Shuangjiang, a widely recognized powerful talisman, like a Great Ascension Realm cultivator within a Mountain-Water Barrier Breaking Talisman. Wu Shuangjiang often fought in this manner, each spell and talisman being precise and economical, full of probing intent. Not only did he accurately discern the truth, but he also managed to avoid mistakes.

Wu Shuangjiang stood on a lotus leaf as large as a city. His constellation miniature world had already lost half its territory, but the core of the formation remained intact. However, the peach tree kites had been exhausted, and the cassia tree and moon were gradually dimming. Most of the lotus leaves had been used to block the sword formation and had been shattered one by one by the river of flying swords. In the sky, the golden writings of past sages, the towering Five Peaks, and the various versions of the Monster Compendium occupied most of the sky.

Wu Shuangjiang wasn’t worried. He believed it was wishful thinking to try and deplete his spiritual energy or force him to use all his treasures with just a sword formation and a No-Man’s Land.

Wu Shuangjiang reached out and retrieved the Tai Bai imitation sword from the azure-robed swordsman behind him, weighing it in his hand. The sword intent was still too weak.

This exchange of Daoist techniques with those people had been mutually beneficial, with each side gaining unexpected advantages.

Cui Dongshan and the others were adding to their miniature worlds, and Wu Shuangjiang used this opportunity to refine the sword intent of the Tianzhen and Tai Bai imitation swords. Even a sliver of improvement was an immeasurable gain.

Bai Ye, wasn’t a sword cultivator either.

What was Bai Ye’s swordsmanship like?
In the annals of the great war, the battles of Fushao Continent and Dudu, the secondary capital of Precious Bottle Continent, are now regarded by the cultivators of the mountain tops as two pivotal turning points, marking the shift between the higher and lower realms.

Despite being trapped within a formidable and perilous sword formation, Wu Shuangjiang still spared two wisps of his divine consciousness to explore the two abodes within his microcosmic world. There, using the mountain-top technique of rubbing, he meticulously copied two paintings: Cui Dongshan’s Constellation Chart and Jiang Shangzhen’s Scroll of Peace, Searching the Mountains. The scenes within these paintings were frozen in time, as if the river of time had ceased to flow. Wu Shuangjiang’s consciousness wandered through them. The first painting captured the moment Cui Dongshan appeared within the seventh southern constellation, Zhen, having just used his finger to inscribe the six characters “Wu Shuangjiang of the Sui Chu Palace,” followed by the black-clad deity and the five yellow-robed goddesses, each holding a character.

Wu Shuangjiang arrived at the celestial chariot and stood beside a yellow-robed heavenly official, gazing at the ancient seal character “Shuang” cradled in her palm. He pondered deeply, his mind racing. Was the white-clad youth attempting to tamper with his destiny? Zhen was not only the name of a constellation but also, in the Shuowen Jiezi dictionary, signified grief. The Xuan Chi chapter also spoke of “reversing the order, changing the path.” Cui Dongshan’s choice of Zhen as his place of manifestation was surely not arbitrary. However, could such a small manipulation of heavenly timing and luck truly disrupt the fate and fortune of a fourteenth-realm cultivator? Was it not like an ant trying to topple a tree? The Embroidered Tiger, Cui Chan, was a master of schemes and calculations, surely his intentions were not so shallow.

After a moment of contemplation, Wu Shuangjiang, in the form of a mustard-seed avatar, plummeted countless miles, standing where Cui Dongshan had stood. Looking up, according to celestial and geographical divisions, he was precisely at the boundary between the Niu and Dou constellations, adjacent to the Yi and Zhen stars. Wu Shuangjiang stood there for a long time, seemingly grasping at a faint clue, yet struggling to find the starting point.

Within the other abode, another mustard-seed of Wu Shuangjiang’s consciousness stood beside the giant spirit envoy, feet planted on mountains, hands wielding the Demon-Locking Mirror. With the painting frozen, the mirror’s light became like a flying sword, forming a solidified white rainbow in the air. After Wu Shuangjiang copied the long-lost Demon-Locking Mirror, he shifted his gaze towards the ribbon-clad woman with four faces on her head, standing on a ribbon as wide as a stream, overlooking the mountains and rivers.

For cultivators of their level, shattering mountains with fists, overturning rivers, and wielding treasures that blotted out the sky were all but trivial matters.

An ordinary Immortal Realm Qi Refiner, or a ninth-realm pure martial artist, would have no chance to participate in this battle, or rather, their participation would be meaningless.

Wu Shuangjiang frowned slightly and gently waved his sleeve, stripping most of the color from the myriad mountain peaks, turning the vibrant painting into a simple sketch. After repeatedly waving his sleeve to change the colors of the mountains and rivers, he finally left only a few high mountains with firm roots. Upon closer inspection, he found that Jiang Shangzhen had subtly tampered with them, scraping away many traces, leaving only the mountain’s essence, while also refining the mountains into seals, like blank chops without inscriptions. Wu Shuangjiang sneered, flipped his palm, and inverted all the mountains. Good heavens, two of them bore faint traces, inscriptions not in bold script, but extremely insidious. Not only were the characters as small as fly heads, but they also employed a layer of illusionary restriction. After Wu Shuangjiang dispelled it, the truth was revealed: they were inscribed with “Sui Chu Palace” and “Wu Shuangjiang,” respectively.

Wu Shuangjiang dismissed the Scroll of Searching the Mountains. With a grab of both hands, he held the two mountains in his palms, like miniature scholar’s rocks. He then merged them with the mustard-seed consciousness from the Constellation Chart, and with a wave of his sleeve, dispersed the excess constellations. He moved the mountains and placed them again, gently waving his hand, causing the miniature mountains to stand tall within the array chart. Wu Shuangjiang then raised his hand and manifested a river, followed by two pavilions. As Wu Shuangjiang used his fingers as brushes to write the plaques “Ya Jiang” (Pressing the River) and “Yi Cui” (Embracing Emerald), the surrounding mountain roots and water veins seemed to come alive with a stroke of a celestial brush. Suddenly, the setting sun and lonely wild ducks, the autumn water and vast sky, created a delightful landscape. Furthermore, Wu Shuangjiang, with a thought, erected a magnificent pavilion with green glazed tiles beside the river. It was clear that the Embroidered Tiger had imitated Su Shi’s handwriting, altering the golden plaque’s inscription to become the three characters “Guan Que Lou” (Stork Tower). Wu Shuangjiang stepped forward, arriving at the base of the pavilion’s steps. Looking up, he saw a vaguely defined man, seemingly the “Imperial Son in the Pavilion” described in books.

Constellation Chart above, Scroll of Searching the Mountains below.

Was this a Three Powers Array, encompassing Heaven, Earth, and Man?

Sure enough, such elaborate movements were not merely for show, for the superimposed layers of Heaven and Earth concealed the secrets of interlocked array eyes in key positions.

Wu Shuangjiang smiled knowingly. This array was extraordinary. The most intriguing aspect was the “Man” completing the three powers, who was none other than himself. He had almost fallen for the trick, blinded by his own presence.

If those three had followed this thread, using endless means as distractions, constantly accumulating small advantages, Wu Shuangjiang might have been trapped in a loop, his Dao severely diminished as if he were being skinned and his tendons drawn.

No wonder the water serpent hidden within the mirror light had disguised itself as a wisp of Jiang Shangzhen’s sword light. Unfortunately, after Wu Shuangjiang detected the anomaly, it failed to bite through his robes. Otherwise, if it had absorbed even a single drop of his blood, the “Imperial Son in the Pavilion” within the Stork Tower would have become much clearer, revealing more of Wu Shuangjiang’s true nature. The three young people of Vastness were audacious in their thoughts and even bolder in their actions.

Half of Vastness’ Embroidered Tiger, the Jade Gui Sect’s leader who had turned the tide in Tongye Continent, and the last Hidden Official of the Sword Qi Great Wall.

Their reputations were well-deserved.

One should make a name for oneself early, and beat others even earlier.

On the path of cultivation, when encountering promising and pleasing juniors, seniors should not be stingy with their advice, giving a few words of guidance, so that they would have no worries about drinking companions in the future.

Sun Daoren of Xuan Du Temple might be prone to nonsense, but he had uttered some golden words.

Wu Shuangjiang did not even dare to enter the pavilion rashly, even if it was just a reflection of his own mind. He was not complacent.

Cui Dongshan had not truly exerted himself, with Chen Ping’an and Jiang Shangzhen doing most of the work, secretly plotting this scheme.

Retracting his mustard-seed consciousness, Wu Shuangjiang turned his head and looked.

In the distant horizon, a golden thread appeared.

Wu Shuangjiang raised the imitation Tai Bai sword in his hand, and the lotus leaf beneath his feet tilted.

A sword light arrived in an instant, cleaving Wu Shuangjiang’s entire constellation world in half with a single strike!
Even the imitation sword in Wu Shuangjiang’s hand was sliced through.

The sword light flashed past Wu Shuangjiang’s side, causing his robes to flutter and even produce a series of faint tearing sounds.

Wu Shuangjiang flicked his wrist, and the Tai Bai imitation sword in his hand returned to its original, undamaged state.

It was Ning Yao who had unleashed her sword.

Her sweep from a great distance sliced through the very fabric of the small world.

Ning Yao’s second sword, a sliver of light from afar, transformed into a breathtaking river of sword qi within the star-studded heavens.

Wu Shuangjiang, anticipating this, employed the technique of shrinking the mountains and rivers, barely dodging the incomparably sharp sword light. However, the two sword-carrying figures were utterly annihilated by the blast of energy.

Wu Shuangjiang changed his mind, temporarily收起 (shōu qǐ, withdrew) the remaining aura of the two sword servant puppets, “Ning Yao” and “Chen Ping An,” into his sleeves, and personally wielded the four imitation immortal swords.

Glancing at the Tai Bai imitation sword, Wu Shuangjiang shook his head, still unable to condense the pure sword intent.

In fact, Jiang Shangzhen had previously advised the Mountain Lord’s wife to minimize her swordplay, lest her sword intent be stolen by that fellow.

Ning Yao only replied with one sentence, “No need to worry.”

Taking advantage of the imminent collapse of Wu Shuangjiang’s star-studded world, Jiang Shangzhen appeared, patted Chen Ping An on the shoulder, and said in a deep voice, “Take care.”

Having a wife is certainly a good thing, but having such a wife means that you, Chen Ping An, can forget about visiting pleasure houses for the rest of your life.

Jiang Shangzhen simultaneously communicated telepathically, “How is it? How far are you from the Well-in-Moon?”

Chen Ping An grinned, “Still some distance.”

The fight could not be in vain. Besides doing his own work, coordinating meticulously with Cui Dongshan and Jiang Shangzhen, Chen Ping An was also using Wu Shuangjiang’s small world as a whetstone, similar to the Dragon Slaying Platform, to meticulously hone the edge of the Well-in-Moon sword.

Jiang Shangzhen hesitated, wanting to say something but holding back.

Chen Ping An laughed, “To kill a Fourteenth Realm cultivator, how can there be no price to pay?”

Two sword lights flashed, and Jiang Shangzhen and Chen Ping An simultaneously vanished from the spot.

Unexpectedly, Chen Ping An found himself accompanied by a talisman depicting a jade axe, along with the Tai Bai and Wan Fa imitation swords, following him like shadows. They must be the manifestations of that Woodcutter’s giant axe. The talisman’s killing power was average, but the biggest problem was its persistent, haunting nature. Chen Ping An telepathically told Jiang Shangzhen, “You focus on your task, don’t worry about me. I’ll deal with these two immortal swords.”

The opportunity was rare, and he could also refine his martial arts body in the process.

He would recoup as much as he could.

Even with the three of them working together, they had already weighed the consequences in Fallen Phoenix Mountain.

The inevitable cost might be Chen Ping An losing one of his natal flying swords, either the Bird-in-Cage or the Well-in-Moon.

It might be a section of Jiang Shangzhen’s willow leaf, causing his flying sword’s grade to decline. It might be Cui Dongshan losing a Xianren Realm遺蛻皮囊 (yí tuì pí náng, shed skin/remnant husk).

Even more could be lost, such as Chen Ping An’s martial arts apex, which could regress.

Or perhaps, someone would have to pay an even greater price.

On Fallen Phoenix Mountain, Chen Ping An had ultimately established a rule: whoever was rescued by the other two must be prepared to make a sacrifice. For example, if the three of them working together could not change the worst-case scenario, then that person would face a life-and-death enemy like the Sword Immortal Pei Min, sacrificing their life to ensure that the other two’s cultivation paths would not be completely severed. Cui Dongshan and Jiang Shangzhen had both agreed to this without objection.

Wu Shuangjiang held one hand behind his back, while the other hand pinched as if plucking a string on a lute, causing a soundless melody to resonate throughout the heavens and earth.

Behind him, a celestial avatar, like a spirit wandering afar, held the Daozang and Tianzhen imitation swords, unleashing a sword strike as a response to Ning Yao.

Having just dodged the Tai Bai and Wan Fa sword lights, Chen Ping An was struck by a bolt of lightning without warning. In the next moment, Chen Ping An grasped the tips of the two imitation swords, his figure sliding backward for hundreds of zhang. Sword light bloomed, his hands were a bloody mess, and the surging sword qi cut fine sword marks across his face, forcing him to squint and avoid directly looking at the sword lights. Chen Ping An’s backward momentum still could not be slowed, and the sword tips slowly pierced out from his palms.

Wu Shuangjiang again began to pluck the strings of the nonexistent, formless zither, “This kid is really good at hiding his strength. With this martial arts body, why bother showing off any Jade Purity dharma body?”

While gripping the tips of the two imitation swords, he could only allow the lightning triggered by the soundless melody to strike him.

Wu Shuangjiang bent his fingers, plucked a string, and gently released it. Chen Ping An was like someone being swept across the abdomen with a club, forcing him to bend over, his hands sliding forward. The tips of the two imitation swords were now close at hand.

A Fourteenth Realm 天人合一 (tiān rén hé yī, Unity of Heaven and Man) avatar, after all, was not wielding true immortal swords, and it was already at a disadvantage in the sword duel against the Ascended Realm sword cultivator Ning Yao.

Wu Shuangjiang smiled, “Flowers bloom.”

The celestial avatar behind him instantly transformed into thousands, suspended in various locations, each wielding two swords. In this sword duel, sword qi was like a waterfall, surging and pouring down on the lone person and sword of Ning Yao.

Wu Shuangjiang made hand seals, constantly calculating in his mind.

Suddenly, Wu Shuangjiang accidentally broke a string. Wu Shuangjiang raised his hand, and a drop of blood seeped from his finger.

Wu Shuangjiang’s expression turned serious. Although his heartstrings had trembled violently, Wu Shuangjiang’s deduction skills were still unable to find any trace.

The white-robed youth, who had seemingly been an observer, squatting in a pavilion, had not truly engaged with Wu Shuangjiang, but was even more miserable than Chen Ping An and Jiang Shangzhen. He was a pitiful sight with blood streaming from his seven orifices, cursing and muttering. In front of him stood a porcelain “Wu Shuangjiang,” around whom Cui Dongshan had meticulously arranged a formation, creating a feng shui spot of excellent quality. Techniques like 格龍之術 (gé lóng zhī shù, dragon-measuring art), 開三山立向 (kāi sān shān lì xiàng, establishing direction based on the Three Mountains), 來去歸堂水 (lái qù guī táng shuǐ, water entering and exiting the hall), 天星地盤 (tiān xīng dì pán, celestial and terrestrial compasses), 順逆山家四十八局 (shùn nì shān jiā sì shí bā jú, the forty-eight formations of mountain homes, both forward and reverse), Buddhist six pāramitās, Taoist Great Universal Ritual, and the auspicious and inauspicious Two Hundred and Forty-Four Formations of the Rebirth Five Elements… all were applied to this Wu Da Gongzhu, Wu Lao Divine Immortal.

Just a starmap, a Mountain-Searching Formation, and Wu Shuangjiang’s Heaven-Earth-Human Three Talents Formation?

What a joke! You, Wu Shuangjiang, underestimate your own Fourteenth Realm and the minds of Grand Master Cui, my teacher, and Chief Zhou too much.

Previously, Cui Dongshan and Jiang Shangzhen, in addition to the Bird-in-Cage and Willow Shade Land, still needed magic treasures to rain down. What was the purpose? It was to overlay the Five Elements Formation on top of the Three Talents Formation, and then to overlay the Seven Stars Formation on top of the Five Elements Formation.

The relatively superficial and easily detected Three Talents Formation was both a smokescreen and not a smokescreen.
The Metal of the Five Elements, Chen Ping’an’s caged sparrow. Water, Cui Dongshan’s ancient Shu great marsh. Wood, Jiang Shangzhen’s willow-shaded ground. Fire, a vast volcanic range personally arranged by Cui Dongshan, the formation named Lord Lao’s Alchemic Furnace. Earth, the Five Sacred Mountains True Form Diagram concealed with a shard of the Moon in the Well and a wisp of willow leaf from Jiang Shangzhen.

The Three Talents, Five Elements, and Seven Stars, formations layered upon formations.

Adding the two concealed formations of Assistant and Adjutant Stars, it became the complete Seven Manifest and Two Hidden formations beyond the Seven Stars.

The Northern Dipper governs death!

Critical amongst these was the porcelain doll Wu Shuangjiang, crafted by Cui Dongshan at any cost!

Cui Dongshan, disregarding his blood-streaked face, grasped the porcelain doll Wu Shuangjiang’s head with hooked fingers, “Shatter for this old man!”

Cui Dongshan pressed down on the head, little by little, signs of the Great Dao collapsing appeared. Cui Dongshan’s immortal remains, resembling an ancient Shu Flood Dragon, were riddled with countless cracks.

When the porcelain doll suddenly shattered, Cui Dongshan flew backward, collapsing to the ground in a pool of blood.

At the same moment, numerous small worlds layered upon each other, merging into one.

The four imitation immortal swords and a celestial avatar were all forced back to Wu Shuangjiang’s side.

This was the true Great Dao grinding ants, crushing a Fourteenth Realm cultivator.

All the small worlds, including Wu Shuangjiang, were now as tiny as mustard seeds.

Chen Ping’an, clad in a vibrant crimson robe, carrying the names of countless great demons within his Tenth Realm martial artist body, became utterly hunched. When he no longer deliberately straightened his spine, finally, after returning from the Sword Qi Great Wall, he fully revealed his Tenth Realm Qi盛 state, reaching out to grasp the longsword Night Wanderer.

Allow me to go first.

Using the sword that cleaved Sui Mountain in his youth, coupled with the stance of a Spirit God drumming.

To deliver as many swords as possible.

Transforming into a rainbow of light.

The bearing of a Sword Immortal.

Jiang Shangzhen and Ning Yao stood on opposite sides.

The Celestial Realm sword cultivator, clad in a green robe and cloth shoes, had a complete willow leaf suspended before him, devouring Jiang Shangzhen’s spiritual energy like a whale, sacrificing the pond to catch the fish, even allowing his natal flying sword to fall in rank, perhaps even breaking it completely.

Ning Yao, wielding her sword in mid-air, extended a finger and touched her brow, gently wiping it. Her immortal sword Innocence, until this moment, as if granted amnesty, truly ascended to the peak sword realm.

Chen Ping’an combined twenty-one swords into one, cleaving the Fourteenth Realm Wu Shuangjiang’s true form and celestial avatar.

Jiang Shangzhen’s flying sword decapitated the Yin Spirit’s head.

Ning Yao’s single sword annihilated Wu Shuangjiang’s soul.