Dark red lightning, like countless chains, writhed wildly in the void. Each arc of lightning was entwined with Twisted Runes, which shimmered with a ghostly purple light, as if the Curse of Ancient Demon God had been re-enacted in the mortal world. The deafening roar shattered the air within a ten-mile Fang Yuan into dust, and distant mountains shook violently under this force, their surfaces peeling away in chunks to reveal the dark red, blood-like rock layers beneath. Shattered souls were forcibly bound together in the lightning, the excruciating pain transforming into visible sonic ripples that spread outwards in concentric circles, cracking even space itself in a spiderweb pattern. Time and space seemed to be on the verge of collapse at that moment. Shattered. The heavens, unable to withstand the force, first emitted a crisp sound like shattered Glazed Ice, then the entire sky was torn apart like brocade by a giant hand, with a thick, asphalt-like black substance gushing out from the cracks. The flowing motion resembled the rupture of the arteries of heaven and earth, the filthy blood winding its way through the land, staining the clouds for miles around an ominous crimson-purple. In the surging, dark blue-black waves at the edges, countless distorted human faces could be vaguely seen rising and falling, howling. Ink seeped from their empty eye sockets, and foul-smelling demonic energy poured from their wide-open mouths. Each face was frozen in the despair of death, as if telling the world of the terror of the demonic energy of the Return Ruins.
On the surface of the Blade Maniac's reconstructed body, layers of fine bone armor surged and churned like living things. Each bone fragment's edge crackled with eerie blue arcs of electricity, striking the surrounding air and leaving scorched marks in the void. With the explosive reassembly of the bones, jet-black Demonic Fluid gushed from the cracks like boiling iron, instantly corroding the earth into Bottomless Ravines upon impact. Black smoke rose continuously from these ravines, coalescing into distorted, ghostly faces that emitted sharp, mocking laughs. From the bottom of these pits came Netherworld wails, mingled with the sound of dragging chains, as if demons from the Nine Nether Hell were breaking free of their restraints, ready to burst through the earth and descend upon the mortal realm. Amidst the rising Purple Smoke... The distorted, ghostly faces kept rearranging themselves, alternating between the terrified faces of the Ren Family children and the unwilling roars of the Return Ruins Sword Cultivator. Reflected in the congealed blood and tears were the memories Ren Xiaoyao least wanted to touch— the Ren Family Ancestral Hall, its floor covered in blood, his younger brother's blood-stained hand still outstretched towards him, the image of three hundred and sixty broken swords piercing the child's body, playing in slow motion on a loop in his mind. Each memory was like a sharp blade, piercing his heart, causing him unbearable pain. He even saw his own powerless figure reflected in his younger brother's pupils. The congealed blood beads gleamed coldly in his memory, the bloodstains splattered on the beams of the ancestral hall seemingly still flowing, trapping him in an eternal cage of regret.
As demonic energy surged, thousands of giant pythons, spewing poisonous mist, coalesced. Their eyes flickered with eerie green Phosphorus Fire, like countless guiding Soul Lamp swaying in the darkness, directing these malevolent creatures. When the pythons simultaneously raised their heads and hissed, the sound waves transformed into eerie blue sonic blades, slicing the air into countless diamond-shaped fragments. These fragments danced in the air, shimmering with a strange light, like scales scattered by a demon. The remaining rocks of Broken Blade Cliff crumbled inch by inch under the impact of the sonic waves. The ancient sword intent fragments, barely detached from the mountain, emitted a resentful hum within the demonic energy. In the instant before turning to ashes, afterimages of swordsmen from past Sword Cultivator their swords appeared on the fragments. These afterimages, though brief, were filled with... Power and conviction seemed to be conveying the spirit of swordsmanship to Ren Xiaoyao. The vengeful spirits that had slumbered for millennia at the bottom of the cliff were fully awakened. Grayish-black mist, carrying stark white bones, surged into the sky. Each bone was bound with pitch-black chains, engraved with Ancient Incantations. These chains rushed into Blade Maniac's body, sprouting six pairs of demonic wings covered in barbs behind him. As the wings flapped, space cracked like Shattered Mirror, and the pulverized Spiritual Qi condensed into Ice Crystals in the air, refracting eerie seven-colored light. These lights brought no beauty, but rather a greater sense of fear and unease. Within the Ice Crystals, the phantoms of Ancient Ferocious Beasts vaguely appeared, baring their fangs and claws, as if trying to break free of their seal.
" Ren Xiaoyao, do you think the demonic energy of Return Ruins is merely a power for you to command?" The voices emanating from Blade Maniac's nine throats simultaneously sounded like the roars of countless demons, causing ripples to spread through the space. Wherever these ripples passed, space twisted and deformed, even light refracted strangely. The moment the nine scimitar fragments burst from the earth, the Sword Cultivator's face, devoured by the blades, suddenly opened its blood-red eyes. A shrill cry intertwined with Blade Maniac's ferocious laughter, creating a devastating demonic sound that echoed through the valley, each echo growing sharper and more piercing, as if it would never cease. With a flick of his palm, the three-zhang-long demonic blade was reassembled. Within the flowing, eerie light of the blade, countless human faces were enduring eternal torment; some were pierced by the blade, black pus constantly oozing from their wounds; others were consumed by demonic energy... Corrosion began, and skin peeled away inch by inch. The agonizing roars coalesced into the dying sobs of Ren Xiaoyao's younger brother, a sound filled with both a yearning for life and a fear of death. The gigantic maw that sprouted from the hilt of the demonic blade greedily inhaled and exhaled Spiritual Qi. Instantly, the land within Fang Yuan hundred miles lost its color, trees turned into withered bones, bark cracked into fragments, and branches stretched towards the sky like withered claws; rivers froze into purplish-glowing icicles, within which one could vaguely see frozen fish and shrimp, their expressions filled with terror; even the flow of time slowed down and stagnated, as if the entire world had been paused, leaving only endless darkness and fear. Even the dust in the air seemed to linger in fear of this evil power. In the distance, the rooftops of villages began to crack, and wisps of smoke condensed in mid-air into eerie shapes before finally dissipating into the demonic energy.
Ren Xiaoyao's hand, gripping the sword with excessive force, was bulging with veins, the blood vessels on the back of his hand clearly visible, as if they might burst at any moment. The Guixu Sword Intent surged through his meridians like boiling magma, tearing apart bones and muscles wherever it passed, each breath accompanied by excruciating pain; he could even feel the sword intent burning his internal organs. He was horrified to discover that the rumbling from the depths of the pit in the ground was in sync with his heartbeat, Demonic Qi flowed upwards along the sword tassel, the streams of light condensing the Sword Cultivator's essence were dimming at a visible speed. When his fingertips touched a wisp of dissipating Return Ruins essence, countless fragments of memories flooded his mind like a tidal wave: the Return Ruins Sword Cultivator was being devoured by demonic energy. The despair in Shi Shi's eyes, the small hands of the Ren Family children struggling in the pool of blood, and his younger brother's weak cry of "Brother"... the hot blood in his chest instantly turned icy cold. He staggered half a step, a metallic taste rising in his throat, blood dripping from the corner of his mouth, staining the ground like a bewitching red plum blossom. The color of that red plum blossom contrasted sharply with the surrounding darkness, as if it were a symbol of the last glimmer of hope in his heart, or like blood and tears dripping into the darkness. His temples throbbed, the images of the entire Ren Family's tragic death flashing before his eyes, the screams of his loved ones before their deaths echoing in his ears. These memories followed him like a shadow, almost completely devouring his reason.
" Myriad Swords Returning to the Void, Reverse!" With a roar, Ren Xiaoyao's hair was whipped about by an Invisible Power, dancing wildly in the air, crackling with tiny electric sparks. Crimson Golden Patterns spread wildly along the Lingchen Sword, emitting Dazzling Light wherever it went, ancient sword patterns emerging within the light. The phantom of the Guixu Sword Mound rotated in reverse, and the Time Flow Rate on the entire battlefield abruptly stopped. Birds froze in mid-air, their wings maintaining their flapping posture, dewdrops clinging to their feathers; falling pebbles hovered like eerie Star River, each fragment shimmering with a faint light, as if containing the Stellar Power; even the Blade Maniac was frozen into a distorted mask, his expression filled with ferocity and evil, a drop of Black Blood even frozen at the corner of his mouth, about to fall. The moment the cage formed by thousands of Sword Qi fell, the Blade Maniac... He plunged his arm into his own chest, grabbed the pulsating Demonic Core, and crushed it violently. The surging demonic energy condensed into tens of thousands of bone spikes on the inner wall of the cage, Root Bone spike tipped with a miniature version of the Blade Maniac's head. They simultaneously extended scarlet tongues, licking the Blood-Colored Patterns on the cage, emitting chilling, shrill laughs. The sonic boom caused Ren Xiaoyao's eardrums to bleed, blood streaming down his cheeks and staining his collar. His consciousness began to blur, but he still gripped his sword tightly, his nails digging deep into his palms, blood dripping from the hilt, but he was oblivious to it. He had only one belief in his heart: to defeat the Blade Maniac and avenge his family and fellow Sword Cultivator. This belief sustained him and kept him conscious amidst the excruciating pain. Before his eyes appeared the figures of the past Sword Master of the Guixu Sword Mound, silently watching him and giving him Invisible Power.
As the overwhelming black blade Sky-Rending Strike and struck, seven Sword Aura Sword Aura rose around Ren Xiaoyao, shimmering with Dazzling Light, like seven magnificent rainbows protecting him at the center. Mysterious runes flowed across the surface of the Sword Aura, infusing Sword Aura with immense power, stabilizing the space wherever they touched. The moment the Sword Aura energies collided with the black blade, the Mars transformed into blood-soaked sword butterflies, each butterfly's wings reflecting the final image of the Blade Maniac slaughtered by the madman. These sword butterflies danced in the air, emitting faint cries, as if mourning the fallen Sword Cultivator. Blood dripped from their wings with each flight, forming crimson marks on the ground. However, the pale ghosts transformed from the remnants of the refined Sword Cultivator Remnant Souls were even more troublesome. The moment the young ghost pierced Ren Xiaoyao Dao Heart trembled violently. The intense pain, however, cleared his mind, and Lingchen Sword... Suddenly, the Lingchen Sword burst forth with blinding white light. The four characters " Dao Foundation Not Extinguished " on its Sword Spine materialized into a golden seal, radiating Dazzling Light that illuminated the entire battlefield. Wherever the light touched, ghosts let out mournful screams. Three hundred and sixty-five sword intents surged forth from the acupoints of the cultivators' bodies, condensing into a sword array in the void. Each sword flowed with the Dao essence of the Sword Cultivator ' entire lives. Within the sword array, the phantoms of the Sword Cultivator appeared and disappeared. Some stood holding their swords, their eyes resolute, as if guarding their beliefs; others wielded their swords to slay demons, their momentum unstoppable, displaying immense power. Their sword intents converged, forming a force capable of changing the world, seemingly able to pierce through all darkness and bring light. Faint sounds of dragon roars and tiger howls even emanated from around the sword array. The sword shadows within the array intertwined, forming a magnificent battle scene. Each sword light contained the Sword Cultivator ' lifelong learning and indomitable will.
When the demonic python collided with the sword formation, its scales, exposed to the light, instantly ignited, crackling and popping like firecrackers. The acrid smell, mixed with a stench, permeated the battlefield, causing many soldiers to bend over and vomit. Even experienced veterans turned pale. The burning python's corpse fell to the ground, transforming into countless Demonic Insects, densely packed like a black tide, surging towards the sword formation and gnawing at its foundation. Wherever the Demonic Insects passed, they left trails of black corrosion on the ground. Seeing this, the Blade Maniac laughed maniacally, his laughter filled with evil and madness, as if he had already seen the dawn of victory. His laughter shook the surrounding air. From the wound in his torn chest, demonic energy erupted like a volcano. A hundred-foot-tall demonic shadow cleaved through space with its Giant Axe axe, revealing a boiling Black Mud Pits Guixu Depths. Countless twisted tentacles emerged from the swamp, staining the entire sky in ink. The eerie laughter emanating from the depths of the swamp gradually merged with the voice of the Blade Maniac, forming a deafening demonic sound that caused Ren Xiaoyao to bleed from his seven orifices. His clothes were soaked in blood, his hair was stained red, and his steps began to sway, but his eyes remained as firm as iron, without fear. His eyes revealed an unwavering belief: he would protect this continent, protect his homeland, no matter what, even if it meant being shattered to pieces. His body swayed precariously under the impact of the demonic sound, every Root Bone groaning under the unbearable pressure, but his will was as hard as steel.
Ren Xiaoyao took a deep breath, and the Star River formed by the sword formation began to rotate in reverse. Countless points of light shimmered within the Star River, each representing the sword intent of a Sword Cultivator. Golden threads connected these points, forming a protective net. As the Star Rivers Flowing, scenes of Sword Cultivator throughout history emerged—their relentless training and breakthroughs in harsh environments, some in seclusion on cliff edges, others practicing their swordsmanship in thunderstorms—and also revealed the Forbidden Land deep within the Guixu Sword Mound —where a broken sword stood. The chains binding the hilt were densely engraved with the names of cultivators who, like the Blade Maniac, had been consumed by demonic energy. Behind each name lay a tragic story, an indomitable soul, and even their last bloodstains lingered beside them. Suddenly, the broken sword emitted a clear, resonant Sword Hum, a sound that seemed to traverse the River of Time and Space, carrying endless vicissitudes and power. The Sword Hum echoed throughout the heavens and earth, stirring the hearts of all. The chains snapped in response, and the ancient sword intent sealed within the Guixu Sword Mound flowed into Ren Xiaoyao's body like a torrent. His hair moved without wind, and his body radiated Dazzling Light. Within the light, countless sword shadows danced, and within these shadows were the faces of Sword Cultivator from past generations. His sword intent surged, as if his entire being was enveloped in light. His aura reached its peak at this moment, and the surrounding space slightly distorted because of his power. When the Star River collided with the Giant Axe, the entire Tianyan Continent trembled violently. Huge cracks appeared in the ground, from which black smoke continuously billowed, and deep roars echoed from within the smoke. The remaining mountains of Broken Blade Cliff... As the body plunged into the abyss, the dust it stirred up contained countless fragments of ancient swords. These relics, once belonging to powerful sword masters, now emitted a resentful hum, resonating with the sword intent within the Star River. Lightning flashed and thunder roared across the heavens and earth; purple lightning, like giant dragons, weaved through the clouds, illuminating the entire battlefield. The scene was both magnificent and terrifying, like a decisive battle between heaven and earth. Lightning struck the ground, blasting out huge craters. The lightning and Sword Qi complemented each other, sketching a magnificent yet dangerous picture against the dark sky.
The Blade Maniac Madman began to disintegrate under the impact of the Star River, yet it still frantically absorbed the demonic energy dissipating from the Return Ruins. Countless tiny Black Hole appeared on the surface of Black Hole demonic shadow, constantly devouring the surrounding space and Spiritual Qi, like an abyss that could never be filled. The space around the Black Hole was distorted into vortexes. Ren Xiaoyao watched the demonic shadow gradually solidify and resolutely poured all his life Essence Blood into the Lingchen Sword. In the crisp cracking sound of the sword, he seemed to hear the ancient Sword Hum from the Guixu Sword Mound, the response of 365 Sword Cultivator across time and space, giving him strength and courage. His face turned as pale as paper, and his body trembled constantly, but he still gritted his teeth and persevered. With each drop of Essence Blood he poured in, he felt his life slipping away, but his belief grew stronger. His resolve hardened. His vision began to blur, the scene before him distorted, but he could still clearly see the evil figure of Blade Maniac and the unwavering pursuit of justice in his heart. When the final sword strike was unleashed, a pillar of light, merging with countless golden rays and the Star River, pierced through the heavens and earth. Within the pillar, the Phantoms of Sword Cultivators from past generations appeared, simultaneously wielding their swords, merging with Ren Xiaoyao's swordplay. Wherever the golden light touched, demonic energy melted away like ice and snow, space began to heal, cracks gradually disappeared, and darkness receded under the golden light, as if a nightmare was about to end. A peaceful chime rang out from within the golden light. The phantoms of Sword Cultivator within the pillar of light wore solemn expressions, their blades pointing straight to the heavens, joining Ren Xiaoyao in a triumphant anthem of justice.
The roar of the Blade Maniac shadow within the pillar of light was simultaneously mingled with the furious roars of countless Sword Cultivator. The sounds were filled with rage and resentment, like accusations against evil, shaking the very heavens and earth. As the remnants of the nine curved blades crumbled into dust in the golden light, the faces of the Blade Maniac Sword Cultivator Primordial Spirit. These faces finally regained their composure, revealing relieved smiles towards Ren Xiaoyao, as if thanking him for avenging them. Their smiles made Ren Xiaoyao feel that all his sacrifices were worthwhile; he seemed to see these Sword Cultivator walking towards reincarnation in their smiles. After the pillar of light dissipated, the transparent figures floating in the air included not only Sword Cultivator, but also... Among them were the innocent children of the Ren Family Ancestral Hall. The moment they clasped their hands in salute, their starlight coalesced into a dazzling Star River, forever guarding the Tianyan Continent. Within the Star River, the figure of Ren Xiaoyao's younger brother winked at him, then transformed into a shooting star and disappeared into the sky, leaving behind a warm ray of light. That light seemed to tell him that everything was over, and a new beginning was about to arrive. That light also illuminated Ren Xiaoyao's heart, allowing him to feel a glimmer of warmth and hope. He gazed at the Star River, tears welling in his eyes. His tears blurred his vision, but the emotion and relief in his heart grew ever clearer. He knew that he had finally completed his mission, seeking justice for his family and the Sword Cultivator.
In the abyss where the battle ended, the wailing gradually transformed into clear, melodious Sword Hum, like a triumphant anthem. The Sword Hum Sword Hum through the valley, crisp and pleasant, as if recounting this breathtaking battle, interspersed with the murmur of flowing water and birdsong. Ren Xiaoyao gazed at the completely shattered Lingchen Sword in his hand, suddenly noticing a drop of Golden Liquid seeping from the hilt, slowly solidifying into a new sword embryo. Ancient Runes of the Guixu Sword Mound flowed across the liquid's surface, each rune telling of the inheritance and protection of the sword path, containing endless mysteries. As the runes flickered, ancient scenes appeared. With each flicker, various sword techniques materialized on the sword embryo, as if demonstrating the secrets of the sword path to Ren Xiaoyao, guiding him to a higher realm. Within the phantoms, Sword Cultivator were even personally practicing sword techniques. In the distance, towards Tianyan City, in the light of the rising sun piercing through the clouds, he saw... Countless people knelt in worship towards the sky—though they hadn't witnessed the World-Shaking Battle, they felt the pure Spiritual Qi flowing freely again after the demonic energy dissipated. Children chased after the suddenly bursting sword-shaped rays of light, their laughter filled with childlike innocence and joy; the elderly murmured prayers to the sky, giving thanks for surviving this calamity. Flowers bloomed in vibrant colors on the city streets, exuding a captivating fragrance; birds sang merrily, their songs clear and melodious—a scene of peace and harmony, as if the whole world had been reborn. People sang and danced in the streets, celebrating the victory, their faces beaming with happiness, some sharing fine wine and delicacies. Among the celebrating crowds, some recounted ancestral sword legends, others dreamed of a bright future; the entire city was immersed in a sea of joy.
Before the phantom of the Guixu Sword Mound completely faded away, Ren Xiaoyao seemed to hear an old voice whispering in his ear, " The Sword Dao Inheritance, never to be extinguished." He gripped the new sword blank tightly, took firm steps towards the rising sun, and the bloodstains on his robes that were not yet dry looked like blooming red plum blossoms in the rosy light, symbolizing his bravery and perseverance.
Behind him, a Bamboo Forest formed from sword intent gradually grew from the abyss. Each sway of the bamboo leaves emitted a clear, melodious Sword Chant, as if recounting this breathtaking battle and protecting this continent that had returned to peace. Occasionally, flashes of sword light appeared within the Bamboo Forest; these were the Incarnation of sword intent, guarding the peace and tranquility of this land. When the sword light flashed, it would leave sword-shaped shadows on the ground. These shadows flowed with the morning breeze, sometimes transforming into Phoenix about to take flight, sometimes coalescing into a coiling, roaring dragon, as if proclaiming to the heavens and earth the majesty and immortality of the sword path.
In every corner of the Tianyan Continent, young Sword Cultivator felt the lingering effects of the battle, gripping their swords tightly and striving towards the pinnacle of swordsmanship. They tempered their sword intent in the morning dew and comprehended the way of the sword under the moonlight of the night, transforming Ren Xiaoyao's legendary story into motivation for their cultivation. Some Sword Cultivator embarked on journeys to search for ancient ruins, seeking lost sword techniques in the ancient Sword Mound; others ventured into perilous lands, honing their swords against demons and monsters. In the eyes of every Sword Cultivator shone a resolute light; they would inherit the spirit of the sword and protect the peace and tranquility of this continent.
Ren Xiaoyao knew his mission was not yet over. He would continue his journey, striving tirelessly for the inheritance of the sword path and for the future of the Tianyan Continent, ensuring that the light of the sword would forever shine upon this land. His footsteps traversed the barren Gobi Desert, leaving behind a trail of resilient footprints; he crossed dense forests, startling the clear chirping of birds. Wherever he went, people, hearing of his deeds, came to pay their respects, offering him their homemade wine and carefully prepared food. Ren Xiaoyao always politely declined with a smile, taking only a ladle of water before embarking on a new journey.
He arrived at a place called " Duan Yun Cliff," a place perpetually shrouded in mist and exceptionally treacherous. Legend has it that this was once the place where a great swordsman passed away, leaving behind endless fortuitous opportunity sword cultivation. As soon as Ren Xiaoyao approached, he felt a powerful yet familiar sword intent rushing towards him. In the mist, the faint image of an old man with white hair appeared, holding a bamboo sword, his posture upright, his eyes revealing a calm acceptance of the vicissitudes of life.
"Young man, to have come this far, it seems you truly have a destiny with the way of the sword." The old man's voice drifted over, as if traversing endless time and space. "Years ago, I comprehended the ' Flowing Cloud Sword Art ' here, using its fluid and graceful movements to break through all the laws of the world. Today, I pass this sword technique on to you, hoping you can carry on and glorify the way of the sword."
Before he finished speaking, the old man gently swung his bamboo sword, and a dazzling sword light shot towards Ren Xiaoyao. Ren Xiaoyao felt a massive influx of information into his mind, and countless exquisite sword moves and sword intent insights about the " Flowing Cloud Sword Art " echoed in his heart. He immediately sat down on the ground and began to comprehend this sword technique inherited from ancient times.