Martial Cultivator

Daoist Wuyang suddenly narrowed his eyes at the blood-covered young martial artist before him. The youth’s head was pressed down under his palm, yet one hand clutched his saber tightly, while the other was stretched toward Daoist Wuyang’s chest. Between his palm and the flying sword, there was a faint, almost invisible thread of sword qi.

So fine it was barely perceptible.

Daoist Wuyang frowned, feeling it was somewhat unbelievable.

The young man before him was no sword cultivator.

But in that instant of realization, Daoist Wuyang no longer thought further. The qi in his palm grew even denser. Even if you were a great sword immortal, so what? Right now, this penniless daoist would first cripple you, then kill you. Let’s see what you can still do.

As Daoist Wuyang’s qi poured into Chen Chao’s body, another fierce battle began within. The qi within Chen Chao initially resisted in unison, but was instantly crushed, collapsing like a defeated army, utterly powerless to fight back.

The gap between their realms was simply too vast.

Chen Chao was still conscious. He knew very well that if he tried to clash head-on with Daoist Wuyang within the battlefield of his own body, his chances of victory were slim. So instead of continuing to circulate his qi to resist, he redirected it through his meridians into his arm. Even at this critical moment, he still managed to carefully peel away the strands of sword qi that had fused into his own qi.

What he needed to do next was to seal off Daoist Wuyang’s invading qi from reaching his arm, to buy himself one final moment.

In other words, at this moment, Daoist Wuyang was like the demon army pounding at the gates beneath the Northern Frontier Great Wall, while Chen Chao was the frontier soldier defending the fortress.

The difference in strength between the two sides was immense, it was only a matter of how long he could hold.

In the distance, Yun Jianyue hovered beneath the sky, blood flowing from his seven orifices, his whole body trembling. He not only had to block Daoist Wuyang’s lightning pool from breaking through but also had to maintain his own lightning pool’s stability. Just those two tasks alone were already pushing him to his limits.

He had long since noticed Chen Chao’s dire situation and wanted to lend a hand, but he could hardly spare the strength.

Still, he could not bear to watch Chen Chao die here. If Chen Chao were to fall, then all of his own efforts would be in vain.

Could the current Great Liang Dynasty still stand without Chen Chao?

It could not.

Yun Jianyue bit down hard, spat out a mouthful of blood, but that blood did not scatter. Instead, it hung in the air, forming a crimson inkstone.

Yun Jianyue’s trembling fingers reached out, as if holding a brush dipped in that blood.

Then, slowly yet with unwavering resolve, he began to inscribe a talisman.

If Yun Jianyue could not claim the top among all talisman masters of this world, he would accept that. If none of the talismans he had written in his life could be called the greatest in history, he would accept that too.

But once this blood talisman was complete, any talisman master under heaven, upon seeing it - no, even upon merely knowing of its existence, would feel utterly ashamed before it!

When the blood talisman took form, Yun Jianyue’s complexion turned even paler. This young temple master, the most promising daoist in the entire Daoist sect, spoke softly: “Chen Chao, this penniless daoist can give up everything, but not you. Don’t fucking die!”

This might have been the first and last time Yun Jianyue ever cursed in his life.

That blood talisman contained Yun Jianyue’s own Great Dao. The moment it was completed, no matter what happened afterward, his Dao foundation, previously damaged by one or two parts, was now damaged by half!

In other words, Yun Jianyue was openly wagering his own Dao foundation in exchange for a glimmer of hope for Chen Chao.

In other words still, Yun Jianyue believed that this world might be able to live without him, Yun Jianyue, but it could never live without Chen Chao.

The blood talisman drifted forth and came to rest above Daoist Wuyang’s head.

Daoist Wuyang lifted his gaze to look at it, and in that instant, he understood the price Yun Jianyue had paid. This middle-aged daoist, renowned across the world for his peerless daoist techniques, now looked upon it with eyes full of disappointment.

There was a hint of desolation within them.

The next moment, there was no time for him to be despondent. The blood talisman suddenly fell, striking directly atop his head.

It was a blood-colored bolt of heavenly lightning.

Daoist Wuyang’s face turned ugly. Beyond the trouble caused by the heavenly lightning contained in that blood talisman, it was Yun Jianyue’s Dao foundation within the talisman that left him momentarily unsure how to resolve it.

While he hesitated, the flow of qi in his palm naturally slowed considerably. At that moment, Chen Chao seized the opportunity and grabbed the hilt of the flying sword.

Wild Grass trembled and, having long since grown a spirit, though it knew Chen Chao was not its sword owner, did not resist at that instant.

Chen Chao grasped the sword and was about to thrust it forward with force.

A weak voice sounded from afar: “Pull!”

It was the already severely wounded Yu Xiyi. He and Wild Grass were connected in mind; of course he knew the function of Wild Grass now, pulling it out was far better than leaving the flying sword inside Daoist Wuyang’s body.

After hearing that shout, Chen Chao no longer hesitated and yanked the flying sword out with force.

As the sword was pulled free, Daoist Wuyang shuddered all over, and the hand that had pressed down atop Chen Chao’s head lost all strength in that instant.

At the same time, the blood lightning struck hard and truly slammed into Daoist Wuyang.

Yun Jianyue could no longer hold on. He spat up a mouthful of blood and began to fall toward the peak; the lightning god above the pool also began to dissipate.

Even that enormous dharma idol nearly shattered in an instant.

Countless fragments tumbled downward.

A heavenly lightning bolt fell across the sky.

It was the very heavenly lightning Daoist Wuyang had long wished to unleash. In this moment, it finally met no obstacle and was to descend upon the world.

Chen Chao held the flying sword with one hand, swiped it across Daoist Wuyang’s throat with the other, and with his other hand gripped Cloud Mud and slashed at the sky.

To counter that heavenly lightning.

Wild Grass left a wound across Daoist Wuyang’s throat, a blood line appearing between at throat.

Daoist Wuyang had no strength left to continue fighting, and his life force began to ebb slowly.

As a result, the descending heavenly lightning carried little threat.

Chen Chao easily cleaved it apart, though he was nearly exhausted.

He gripped Daoist Wuyang’s sleeve to prevent this ox-nosed daoist from falling. A powerhouse who had surpassed the end of Nepenthe possessed too many means. Until he could be certain the other was truly dead, Chen Chao would not release him.

In truth, Daoist Wuyang had not entirely lost all capacity for action; rather, the middle-aged daoist’s thoughts were muddled. He could not accept that Yun Jianyue would sacrifice his Dao to buy Chen Chao a sliver of life instead of, at the last moment, “coming to his senses” and standing on Daoist Wuyang’s side.

Chen Chao gripped Cloud Mud, prepared to cut off Daoist Wuyang’s head to prevent further complications.

Just as he raised his saber, a streak of white light shot down from the heavens, striking Chen Chao squarely in the chest and sending the young martial artist crashing into the mountaintop.

A massive crater formed.

The white light dispersed, the lightning pool vanished, and in their place hovered an old man with white hair and beard above the peak. He first cast a glance at Daoist Wuyang.

No, he merely glanced at Daoist Wuyang.

“I told you long ago that past matters mean nothing. Yet you insisted on returning, only to lose to these three ants. Truly disgraceful.”

After saying this, the white-haired old man turned his gaze toward the mountaintop below, where two figures stood with difficulty, looking up at him.

Inside the distant crater, the young martial artist, bare-chested and bloodied, struggled to his feet.

The white-haired old man had not paid him much mind at first, but when Chen Chao stood up, the old man narrowed his eyes slightly, because he saw the saber in Chen Chao’s hand.

A deeply complicated emotion flashed across the white-haired old man’s eyes. In the end, it quickly faded, leaving only disgust.

Intense disgust.

“Another martial artist?”

Before he finished speaking...

He stomped heavily, the mountaintop roared as countless stones shattered and tumbled down. An entire mountain peak was flattened beneath his foot.

The three on the summit would likely be turned to pulp.

The white-haired old man extended a finger, sending a strand of multicolored light into Daoist Wuyang’s glabella. He said calmly, “After saving you, from now on, you’ll act under this old man’s command. Otherwise, this old man’s trip out here would not be worth the loss.”

Yet before his words faded, the old man looked down curiously at the half-leveled mountain below.

When the dust cleared, three figures were still barely standing.

That surprised him. Even if the young martial artist’s body was well-tempered enough to survive by chance, what of the other two, a sword cultivator and a daoist? How could they still be alive?

Yu Xiyi stood drenched in blood and dust. After sustaining such a stomp out of the blue, he took a deep breath and cursed weakly, “Where the hell did this old bastard come from?!”

But his breath was nearly gone.

Chen Chao, who had borne the brunt of the attack, could only smile bitterly. For the three of them to have joined forces and slain Daoist Wuyang here was already an incredible feat. Who would have thought that just when the battle had ended, another old undying would crawl out?

Furthermore, judging by his realm, he was above Nepenthe as well.

Chen Chao glanced at Yun Jianyue; the meaning in his eyes was clear: Is there such a figure in the Infatuation Daoist Temple?

Yun Jianyue’s face was pale. He shook his head.

Not that there wasn’t -

But that he did not know.

Chen Chao sighed, unwilling to accept it.

They had finally won, only for it to end like this?

He tightened his grip on the saber and patted the shredded remains of his trouser leg.

The white-haired old man, hearing Yu Xiyi’s curse, did not seem angered. He smiled pleasantly and said, “Quite a sharp tongue for a youngster. Very well, this old man will save you for last, so that this old man can take my time breaking you.”

While he spoke, the white-haired old man’s gaze remained fixed on Chen Chao. He said again, “The more this old man looks at you, the more annoyed this old man feels. No need to waste effort on you.”

A wisp of profound light swirled at his fingertip, aiming to obliterate Chen Chao.

His disgust toward the young martial artist came from the heart.

“Blame yourself, of all things, you chose to become a martial artist.”

Before the white-haired old man’s words could finish.

Right then, between heaven and earth, a calm voice sounded out, ”Oh?”