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Originally, this matter should have been told to Yu Fenji at the very beginning. But he had come up demanding a massacre at once; in the shock, who would remember such a small detail?
When the Three Saint Sect heard it, their expressions changed drastically.
“In just one day, at most some superficial wounds have healed…”
For a moment, the entire place fell silent. Then no one knew who started laughing, but many people followed with laughter, saying this was simply nonsense—just a bit of healing, what use could that possibly be?
But Dao Xuzi’s face was paler than a corpse dead for three days. As the personal grand-disciple of Yu Fumie, he was the one who knew the most besides Yu Fenji.
He had personally heard the founding Ancestor say that the thousand-year tribulation was one chain; the God-Slaying Formation was one; that great hole was also one. And now, there was only one chain left binding this ferocious beast.
With merely a Yu Fenji who was not even half a god… it was enough.
Yu Fenji, however, did not know this. He had waited a thousand years for this moment. Back then, Yu Fumie had died before his eyes. Even after ascending to the Upper Realm, after years of seeking the path to godhood, Yu Fenji was still tormented by his inner demon. If he did not kill Ji Wushu, he would never even become a half-god!
Without hesitation, he unleashed his full strength!
The onlookers witnessed a shocking scene.
It was said that when the strongest beings fought, technique no longer had meaning; it was pure power clashing, simply raising swords and hacking at each other, purely mutual—
Not mutual combat.
It was Ji Wushu single-handedly grabbing Yu Fenji and smashing him into mountain peaks.
The first blow left everyone stunned. Someone hurriedly said, “The Sword Saint must not have fully exerted—”
Before the words fell, Yu Fenji in the distant sky was hammered by a sword straight into a mountain ravine.
The mountain split.
The person who had been speaking: … .
Yu Fumie had died too early back then and had clearly forgotten to tell everyone one thing—
The God-Slaying Sword that was said to specifically counter Ji Wushu—everyone had thought that the God-Slaying Sword plus the God-Slaying Formation was 1+1=2.0. Yet they had never expected that without the God-Slaying Formation, the God-Slaying Sword was that .0.
It was like someone who once used a wire to conduct lightning and electrocuted a dying elephant, and then, every thunderstorm, would viciously come to strike the elephant again. But one day the sky cleared and the rain stopped; he thought he was capable again, kicked over the elephant’s little cake, held up the wire, and said to the elephant, come step on me~~
The dying elephant with a hole in it swayed to its feet… and then with a pa ji fell down, crushing the man to death.
The present Sword Saint was holding that little wire.
Now Yu Fumie did not need to rise from the dead to tell everyone; all of them realized it.
Shangyangzi of the Alchemy Sect asked from the depths of his soul, “Since the God-Slaying Sword is useless, why does the Sword Saint not use other sword techniques? With his cultivation, there is still a chance…”
He was close to half-god, after all!
At first it had only been Dao Xuzi trembling like a sieve. Upon hearing this soul-searching question, everyone began trembling like sieves as well. Because, coincidentally, when they had watched the Heaven-Observing Mirror that day, Dao Xuzi had boasted that his grand-uncle had once said—
Brother-con Yu Fenji, in order to refine the God-Slaying Sword to consummation, had consulted Yu Fumie’s handwritten notes and abandoned all other cultivation techniques.
Other.
All.
Someone swallowed audibly.
Yu Fumie, the god who screwed over his younger brother.
﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌
Yu Fenji was undoubtedly a strong man. He had honed one sword for a thousand years. If not for a brother who screwed his brother over, perhaps today he might have had a sliver of a chance.
But there was no “if” in this world. He surged forward, killing intent billowing, the move he had practiced for a thousand years, the sword he had tempered for a thousand years, in an extremely fierce and unyielding posture… only to be grabbed and smashed into mountain peaks.
The narrow-minded god of misfortune had a terrifyingly strong sense of vengeance. Yu Fenji might never have imagined that the cause of all this was a bowl of noodles.
Because, since he had ordered a massacre, fleeing people had knocked over the god of misfortune’s first mouthful of noodles in three thousand years. So he would now… be grabbed and smashed into mountains, be used as a ping-pong ball, be beaten from the sky to the ground, leaving human-shaped craters in all the surrounding peaks.
One word: miserable.
Another word: unjust.
Spitting blood, Yu Fenji realized the problem. He gathered all his strength, barely protected his heart meridians, and, half-dead, propped himself up on the God-Slaying Sword. With unyielding will, he intended to unleash a final strike when—
He heard a soft voice, cautiously speaking, “Ancestor, it’s a bit hot.”
Shu Tiantian was very hot right now.
The Sword Saint possessed a fire spiritual root; the Void Abyss Ancestor was a dragon with Scarlet Flame Fire. When the Sword Saint’s flames blazed one part fiercer, the Scarlet Flame Fire grew three parts more ferocious.
By all logic, Shu Tiantian, a Golden Core cultivator, carried into the sky and scorched by the terrifying Scarlet Flame Fire of the Void Abyss Ancestor, should already have been reduced to ashes. The waves of heat brushed her face; the heavenly fire was terrifying—at worst burning through the divine soul, at least charring flesh and skin. Yet Shu Tiantian… she was a Heavenly Yin Body that was perpetually cold; if she was not careful, she could freeze herself to death.
At first she had clung tightly to the Ancestor, her whole being swinging between being scared witless and fainting, her soul nearly leaving her body several times. But as the temperature kept rising, warm and toasty, the soul that had been frightened away returned.
It was rather like, after braving wind and dust in the depths of winter, stepping into a sweat-steam in a hot spring mountain. Shu Tiantian’s startled spirit returned to her body. Struggling, she adjusted her posture and hung on, rubbing and clinging tighter to the Ancestor, afraid of being thrown from high altitude.
But gradually, the gloomy dragon god grew more and more enthusiastic in his beating, more and more practiced, his temperature practically about to break through the earth’s core.
The temperature was too high; even a Heavenly Yin Body could not quite endure it.
Shu Tiantian was so hot she grew dizzy. At last, unable to bear it any longer, she put forward a small suggestion.
At that moment, Yu Fenji thought his ears had been beaten into hallucinating.
Until he heard the person opposite pause strangely. “How about now?”
Yu Fenji: …?
What were this shameless dragon and woman doing?!
The harm was small, but the humiliation was immense.
After he withdrew the Scarlet Flame Fire, Shu Tiantian came back to herself. She wrapped her arms around the Void Abyss Ancestor’s neck, rubbing until her head popped out, wanting to catch some wind to cool herself, and then she saw Yu Fenji kneeling on the ground.
His eyes looked as if he had suffered the greatest insult. With reddened eyes, he pushed himself up with his sword, spat out blood, and glared viciously as if he wanted to devour someone…
Shu Tiantian was very frightened. The head she had stuck out instantly shrank back. “Ancestor, he’s glaring at me!”
That sinister god of slaughter immediately raised his sword.
In Yu Fenji’s eyes—
What a delicate, coquettish complaint, just like that breath Daji blew by King Zhou’s ear—“Your Majesty~~”
What a vividly shameless pair of adulterers!
Yu Fenji could not bear the humiliation. He raised his sword and charged forward once more.
But this time, Yu Fenji was no longer fighting alone.
He had been beaten far too miserably. A dignified Sword Saint had perfectly demonstrated the professional qualities of a ball—he could be hit however one wished.
Although the Eight Great Sects and the Three Saint Sect watched in great fear, they were, after all, allies. Seeing Yu Fenji about to be beaten to death if they continued watching, they exchanged glances and, shua shua shua, took out their magic artifacts.
The Three Saint Sect, with higher cultivation, rushed at the front. The Eight Great Sects lagged far behind. Of course, as they charged, quite a few quietly dropped out—like Shangyangzi of the Alchemy Sect, who, while charging, simply led his disciples and slipped away.
But at this moment…
No one noticed—it was already night. After fighting for so long, the thousand-year tribulation had ended.
The people of the Three Saint Sect rushed in front, all clad in white-feathered robes, bird stench soaring to the heavens. Already in a bad mood, Ji Wushu narrowed his golden eyes and lifted his sword to strike.
Then suddenly, Shu Tiantian tugged at him.
From afar, they saw the Void Abyss Ancestor seem to look up at the sky. They also looked up.
The sky was dark—profoundly dark.
Only then did they realize that this thousand-year tribulation had already passed.
After three seconds of deathly silence, everyone scattered like birds and beasts.
Every single white-haired birdman running in front turned into plucked chickens, dead beyond dead.
The Three Saint Sect was not weak—they were very strong. But they had been too careless, and like Yu Fenji, had absolute faith in Yu Fumie’s words, believing that as long as the God-Slaying Sword was in hand…
If one thought carefully, one would realize something was wrong.
Ji Wushu had beaten Yu Fenji until he could no longer take care of himself in daily life, yet Yu Fenji, aside from the God-Slaying Sword, had used no other moves—he had purely taken a vicious beating;
But from the moment he came up, it had been a crushing display, almost causing everyone to lose the will to resist. It made everyone feel as though he had not been affected by the thousand-year tribulation, made everyone feel that his natural nemesis had failed.
And the death beyond death of the Three Saint Sect’s Spirit Transformation cultivators, who had no will to resist at all, seemed to further attest to his strength.
But if one thought carefully, what resistance did those people really have?
A god of misfortune is also a god who plays with human hearts. This wretched dragon had only just begun to recover on the first day. If everyone had joined forces and attacked together, even if he did not die he would have been gravely injured. But once today passed…
The thousand-year tribulation would require another thousand years to return.
The God-Slaying Sword had failed.
As for the God-Slaying Formation…
Ji Wushu stood up and slowly walked toward the half-dead Yu Fenji. At last, on that beautiful face, a very faint smile appeared.
That smile was like ice and snow melting, like the warmth of spring.
But as the Dragon Bone Sword left its sheath, it seemed as though a dragon’s roar resounded through the heavens, carrying the Dragon God’s full-strength strike—
A vicious strike filled with a thousand years of resentment, fiercely striking Yu Fenji, who was trying to flee, piercing him in midair and sending him crashing heavily down, and then—fiercely nailing him onto the God-Slaying Formation!
The ending they had predetermined—Yu Fenji probably never imagined that one day it would be copied one-to-one onto himself.
How did it feel to be struck down from the firmament?
How did it feel to be beaten until covered in wounds?
Being nailed through onto this God-Slaying Formation—did it hurt?
The God-Slaying Formation suddenly burst into brilliance, and amid Yu Fenji’s scream, under this strike that had nearly exhausted all strength, it actually shattered into pieces of golden light—
The cage that had confined him for three thousand years shattered.
Scattering and falling apart, turning into countless points of light, then drifting down gracefully.
They fell upon Shu Tiantian’s shoulders, fell upon the tall back of the long-haired young man.
He held Shu Tiantian in his arms.
He seemed to be laughing, his shoulders trembling—suppressed, painful, a thousand years of struggle and defiance, shattered and crushed, pieced back together and gradually made whole again.
The emotion was so strong that Shu Tiantian felt as though he were crying.
But in truth, he was not.
He merely laughed enough, then stopped. Then the blood-stained Dragon Bone Sword fell heavily to the ground with a clang.
