Chapter 161
Li Qingran gazed at the colossal bronze foot that seemed to touch the sky, blinking in awe. Suddenly, he thought that even just one foot of his master looked incredibly majestic. If he could hug it, he would surely feel a profound sense of security.
“What a massive foot…” Yue Qianchi stared, unable to tear his eyes away, and couldn’t help but shiver as he crossed his arms. “If that foot comes down, it could crush an entire city of mortals, right?”
The flying boat surged forward at an inexplicable speed, propelled by an unseen force.
Meanwhile, Ji Dong had already fled to the desolate expanse between nations, contemplating which mortal realm to ravage to restore his essence. But in the next moment, he felt a chilling killing intent locking onto him.
“Not good!” He glanced back, and his scalp prickled with fear.
Above the clouds, a bronze foot blotted out the sun, and even before it descended, the oppressive aura made his demonic energy stagnate. At first, the giant foot appeared on the horizon, but then he saw the cloud boots embroidered with taotie patterns wrapping around the chaotic currents of the void, looming directly above him!
“Ah—!” In the face of imminent death, Ji Dong’s seven orifices bled as he hastily summoned the Blood Asura Dharma form.
Yet, before the form could fully materialize, his right shoulder crumbled first, shattered collarbone piercing through his demonic body, black blood spraying onto the bronze foot, sizzling as it made contact. He had barely begun to chant the blood escape spell when the gale from the giant foot crashing down had already overturned his Dharma form.
The ground trembled with shattered stones.
The bronze foot stomped down with a thunderous crash, turning the earth within a hundred miles into a concave bowl.
“Spare me! I beg you, great one, spare my life!”
Ji Dong howled in despair, only to see the bronze foot lift again.
He craned his neck to the sky, blood streaming from his mouth: “Great one… save me!!!”
Thousands of miles away, amidst towering mountains, an ancient temple suddenly collapsed.
A gray-robed old nun opened her eyes, breaking through the void with her bare hands, and pointed a finger at Ji Dong’s Dharma form’s brow.
In an instant, his brow caved in, and the collapsing Blood Asura Dharma form began to coalesce once more.
However, the left side of the face bore a solemn visage, while the right side was covered in demonic patterns, with a red face and fangs, a white jade hand cradling a pitch-black rosary.
“Enough noise.” The half-demon, half-Bodhisattva Dharma form lightly raised a fingertip, and the void suddenly rippled.
On the deck of the flying boat, Li Qingran and Yue Qianchi felt a chill run down their spines. Before they could react, the boat’s defensive shield shattered into pieces, and the clouds a thousand feet away seemed to be grasped by an invisible hand. A giant finger, entwined with Bodhi leaves and withered bones, pierced through space, causing the very fabric of reality to tear apart.
“It’s over! Li Qingran and Yue Qianchi are still on the flying boat!”
Su Qinian’s eyes widened in horror as he prepared to rush forward to save them.
But the giant finger of the Dharma form had already pierced through the flying boat.
Boom—!
The core of the formation shattered, spiritual energy surged wildly, and a violent explosion scattered the surrounding clouds.
As everyone’s minds were still blank, the wind blew away the dust, revealing a figure clad in dark robes.
“Ancestor!” Upon recognizing the figure, Su Qinian’s eyes brimmed with tears.
The sudden release of tension almost caused him to tumble off his flying sword.
The newcomer was none other than Chen Huai'an.
Li Qingran and Yue Qianchi were shielded behind him, completely unharmed.
Chen Huai'an’s left hand dug deep into the knuckles of the Dharma form, and beneath the shattered sleeve, his muscular arm was revealed, tensed and ready.
Crack—!
With just a slight twist of his fingers, the arm of the Buddha-demon Dharma form began to crumble from the fingertips.
The Buddha-demon Dharma form glared at Chen Huai'an, who had interrupted, its pupils narrowing as it spoke in a voice that echoed with both male and female tones: “The Bodhi is not a tree, the bright mirror is not a platform. Do you know you’ve disrupted my good intentions, jeopardizing matters that concern the fate of the entire Cangyun realm? What kind of karmic retribution will you face when the time for reckoning comes?”
“A fine point about karmic retribution.”
Chen Huai'an chuckled lightly, standing with his hands clasped behind his back, though his eyes held no trace of mirth, only the cold glint of a sword.
“Since that’s the case, I shall settle the score with you!”
He slowly closed his right hand into a fist, and the entire battlefield fell into an eerie silence.
Even the debris of the falling flying boat hung suspended in mid-air, as if the laws of heaven and earth had frozen at that moment.
“Disciple, hand me a jar of spirit wine.”
He extended his hand backward, and after a brief moment of hesitation, Li Qingran quickly retrieved a jar of wine from his storage bag and handed it to his master, then stepped back, clasping his small hands together, gazing at his master’s back with starry-eyed admiration.
Chen Huai'an peeled off the mud seal, leaning in mid-air, and with a flick of his fingers, a stream of wine poured forth like a swimming dragon.
As the aroma of the wine wafted past his intoxicated eyes, his pupils became as clear as a sword’s edge glistening with frost.
The wind lifted his dark robes, revealing the sword wrapped in black scales at his waist.
“Seeing the sword through drunken eyes is the clearest.” He did not draw the sword.
But the spiritual energy around him surged violently, already taking on the shape of a sword.
“I possess a sword that can intoxicate the celestial beings!”
Chen Huai'an formed his fingers into a sword shape, gazing at the Buddha-demon Dharma form, and with a staggering laugh, he said:
“Why not give it a try? The karmic retribution of this sword,
You… might just be able to bear it?”
---
**Chapter 173: Well… Why don’t you give it a try?**
“Ancestor… is he about to recite poetry!”
On the flying sword, Su Qinian looked at the terrifying sword intent rising in the distance, his expression grave.
Beside him, Zhou Xuanzizi blinked in confusion and asked, “Why do you say that, Su Sect Master?”
“Whenever the Ancestor draws his sword, he must recite poetry, and when he recites poetry, someone must die.” Su Qinian murmured, “This time, it’s bound to be something big!”
“Oh!” Zhou Xuanzizi snapped his fan shut and clapped his hands, laughing, “Then if we can shut him up before he draws his sword, preventing him from reciting poetry, wouldn’t that mean the sword can’t be unleashed?”
Su Qinian shot him a glance: “Well… why don’t you give it a try?”
“... I dare not.”
---
In the skies above.
As the last drop of spirit wine slid down his throat, the liquid dripped from his chin, and in mid-air, it was sliced into vapor by an invisible sword energy.
Clang—!
The sword sheath let out a shrill cry.
The sword had yet to be drawn, but the sword intent had already become formidable!
The clouds for a thousand miles instantly transformed into frosty white pellets, collapsing into a circular vacuum around his dark robes.
Chen Huai'an squinted his intoxicated eyes and laughed heartily, “The moon is but a reflection in the water—” He flung out the wine gourd, which suddenly exploded, scattering the remaining droplets across the sky, reflecting the figure of the sword-wielding maniac. That figure staggered and continued, “It’s better to… shatter the heavens and test my wild spirit!”
The black-scaled sword was drawn, its intent soaring to the sky.
Everyone looked up to see the dark-robed figure behind him tearing through the void.
A sword cultivator Dharma form rose to the heavens.
That Dharma form stood atop the clouds, its body exuding sword light, sometimes sitting on the cloud’s edge in meditation, sometimes drunkenly leaning against the moon, singing long songs.
Suddenly, it pointed its fingers like a blade, and in an instant, the heavens trembled, wild ink splattering across the sky, as if the vast expanse had become a canvas for snow-laden waves.
Chen Huai'an flicked his wrist, sending forth a sprinkle of cold stars, and at the tip of the sword, a dragon danced, piercing through the cloud curtain to hook the cold moon.
A dark ink waterfall suddenly cascaded down, a solitary ink stroke breaking through layers of clouds, and as it fell to the earth, it suddenly sharpened—ink seeped into the sword’s bones, the azure edge tempered with dark frost, and the three-foot autumn water was forged from the torrential poetry.
A voice rang out: “With this sword, I seek to gain that joyful smile! How delightful!”
The Buddha-demon Dharma form realized it could finally move.
But what awaited it was the earth-shattering ink sword.
“Come at me!” The Buddha-demon Dharma form’s left eye blossomed with a golden lotus, while the right eye surged with hellfire. Six white jade hands formed a Sumeru seal, dragging against the giant sword. One seal represented hell, the other the Buddha realm, as the sounds of mantras and demonic howls intertwined, leaving the spectators in a daze.
“Limitless Heavenly Sovereign, retreat quickly! This kind of battle is beyond our capacity to observe up close.”
Su Qinian’s face turned pale at the overwhelming force of the clash.
Though he knew this was a great opportunity to comprehend the sword path alongside the Ancestor, he prioritized his own life and quickly retreated to a safe distance.
Boom—!
The ink sword collided with the seal, the heavens cracked, and the earth trembled.
The vast expanse of desert between the mortal realms shattered into countless fragments.
“Junior, if this is all you can do, you won’t be able to make me bear your karmic retribution.”
After taking a sword strike, the Buddha-demon Dharma form was no longer as solid as before; the cracks on its originally white jade arms had spread to its chest. But it felt that this sword was the limit of the sword cultivator’s power, and it still had some strength left. But did that sword cultivator?
“With this sword, I shall write with fervor and shake the Five Mountains!” Chen Huai'an raised his sword and began to recite again.
As the sword’s edge passed through the ink-splattered sky, it inscribed the line, “With fervor, I write and shake the Five Mountains; my poetry completed, I laugh proudly over the Cangzhou.”
Behind him, the Dharma form suddenly raised its wrist, and the pen-like sword edge split the clouds above.
The words “With fervor” glimmered with sword light, while the phrase “Laugh proudly over the Cangzhou” surged with ink.
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