Chapter 230
Each sword strike was incredibly sharp, as if it could tear apart everything in the world.
Yang Jian's pupils contracted sharply, and every hair on his body stood on end.
He pushed his newly restored magical power to its limit, his footwork shifting rapidly, his figure dodging with the precision of a ghost.
At the same time, he wielded his iron sword with impenetrable speed, forming a dense net of swords to protect his vital points.
"Ding! Ding! Dong! Dong!"
A series of metallic clangs echoed through the valley, sparks flying everywhere.
Yang Jian felt immense force emanating from the sword, causing his hands to go numb and his arms to almost lose all feeling.
Outside the valley, Yu Ding Zhenren stood with his hands behind his back, his gaze deep as he looked at the young man struggling to hold on in the formation.
On the other side, Yang Jian barely withstood the first wave of fierce attacks, but before he could even catch his breath, more immortal swords lit up, and the new wave of attacks was clearly even more intense than before...
Hundreds of immortal swords hovered in mid-air, their tips humming and their cold light gleaming, trapping Yang Jian in the center.
He was covered in blood, with deep, bone-revealing wounds all over his chest and arms, but his right hand holding the sword remained as steady as a rock, and his eyes burned with an indomitable flame.
This is the third and most dangerous trial set up by Yu Ding Zhenren: the Myriad Swords Punishing Heart Formation.
"Clang!"
A celestial sword tore through the air, whistling sharply as it pierced straight at Yang Jian's face.
He dodged to the side, the sword's edge almost grazing his cheek, leaving behind a stray lock of hair and a string of blood droplets.
Before he could even regain his footing, two more immortal swords appeared on either side, flanking him and blocking all his escape routes.
Yang Jian roared, his remaining magical power surging wildly as he drew an arc with his longsword, barely managing to parry the two swords.
The immense recoil caused his hand to split open, and blood flowed down the hilt of the sword.
Strength was waning, consciousness was fading, and a bone-chilling cold seeped into every part of my body through every wound.
The thought of giving up creeped into my mind like a venomous snake.
Perhaps I am not even qualified to join the immortal sect, and the matter of saving my mother is nothing but a fool's dream...
Just as his will was about to collapse, a series of images burned intensely into his soul like branding.
That was the despairing yet reluctant look in the eyes of Mother Fairy Yao Ji, as she was suppressed beneath the cold and damp Peach Mountain.
It was at the moment of parting that his young sister, Yang Chan, clutched his clothes tightly and said in her childish voice, "Brother, you must come back. Let's save Mother together."
My sister's clear, innocent eyes were filled with unconditional trust.
That was the responsibility he had to bear as an older brother and a son!
"Ah!"
Yang Jian let out a roar that had been suppressed to the extreme. His extreme thirst for power and his endless longing for his family transformed into a furious rage that could burn everything.
He stopped blocking and dodging, letting several immortal swords pierce through his shoulders and thighs, exchanging the excruciating pain for a moment's respite.
He concentrated all his power into one point, his whole being and the sword in his hand seemed to merge into one, transforming into a stunning swan that tore through the darkness, crashing straight into the core of the sword formation.
What he wanted was not a solution, but to crush it completely in the most ruthless and decisive way!
"Boom!"
A deafening roar seemed to shake the heavens and earth.
The core of the sword formation shattered instantly, and hundreds of immortal swords wailed as they broke apart inch by inch, turning into a shower of light that fell from the sky.
As the smoke and dust cleared, Yang Jian knelt on one knee, using his sword to support his swaying body. Blood gushed out, but he raised his head, grinned, and smiled.
It was a victorious smile tinged with blood and tears.
Not far away, the Yu Ding Zhenren, who had been standing quietly in the clouds, slowly descended.
Dressed in a simple Daoist robe, she looked at the young man before her, covered in blood but with piercing eyes. A complex emotion flashed in her deep eyes, which turned into deep admiration.
"Your sword is filled with hatred and resolve."
Yu Ding Zhenren's voice was calm, "But your heart burns for protection, very good."
She had barely finished speaking when she lightly flicked her whisk.
A soft blue light enveloped Yang Jian.
Yang Jian felt a warm, spring-like energy flow through his entire body, and his hideous wounds healed at a visible speed. Even his depleted magical power was quickly replenished.
In a short while, he had recovered completely, as if the fierce battle he had just fought was just a dream.
Such Tongtian abilities deeply shocked Yang Jian and strengthened his resolve to become his disciple.
He immediately sheathed his sword, knelt down respectfully, and kowtowed three times.
"Disciple Yang Jian humbly begs the True Immortal to accept me as his disciple! Disciple is willing to pay any price, only to learn great magical powers and rescue my mother!"
Yu Ding Zhenren accepted his bow without hesitation, helped him up and said, "From this day forward, you are my personal disciple Yu Ding."
You bear immense karmic burdens, and a great calamity is approaching, which will cause turmoil in the Three Realms. I will impart all my knowledge to you, but how far you can go depends not only on your talent but also on your resolve in the Dao."
"This disciple will certainly live up to Master's expectations!"
Yang Jian knelt down again, his voice firm and powerful.
From then on, Yang Jian began a new life in the Golden Cloud Cave of Jade Spring Mountain in Mount Zhongnan.
Yu Ding Zhenren, recognizing his innate superhuman strength and the resilience he had developed due to family tragedy, tailored a cultivation method specifically for him.
Every day at the crack of dawn, Yang Jian would hone his swordsmanship under the waterfall in front of the cave.
Yu Ding Zhenren abandoned all fancy sword techniques, only teaching him to start with the most basic slashing, chopping, thrusting, and parrying.
Every move requires him to integrate strength, speed, and spirit to the extreme.
"Your hatred is your strongest power, and also your greatest Inner Demon."
Yu Ding Zhenren, holding a bamboo branch, easily deflected Yang Jian's powerful sword strike. "A sword is a weapon of killing, but if the heart that wields the sword is filled only with hatred, the sword will turn against its master."
What you need to learn is not how to release hatred, but how to control it.
Let it be the sharp edge that cuts through all obstacles, not a demon that blinds your mind.
Besides swordsmanship, Yu Ding Zhenren began to teach him the profound and wondrous techniques of the orthodox Chan Sect.
From drawing qi into the body, to condensing the primordial spirit, and then to the unfathomable Nine Revolutions Mysterious Technique and Seventy-Two Transformations.
Each of these spells is profound and complex; even an ordinary immortal could not grasp its essence in a lifetime.
But Yang Jian displayed astonishing talent.
He seemed to be born with a natural affinity for these Daoist methods, and coupled with his relentless hard work, his cultivation progressed by leaps and bounds.
He can transform into a bird, soaring high in the sky and overlooking mountains and rivers, or he can become a fish, diving into the bottom of deep pools to explore underwater caves.
With each new change he mastered, he felt he was one step closer to his goal of splitting Peach Mountain.
The boy who once carried a deep-seated Sea of Blood is now being tempered little by little into an unparalleled divine weapon that will shake the three realms amidst the morning bells and evening drums of Golden Cloud Cave.
Yang Jian's gaze was firm, but the fierceness that had once been exposed had gradually subsided.
As Yang Jian's cultivation progressed, the plans of the Western Religion and the Chan Sect were one step closer...