Neuvillette's Judgment! The Hydro Dragon's Single Sword, the Heavenly Tribulation Dissipates!

After saying this, Tang San bowed deeply.

These words were spoken with a veneer of righteousness.

They sounded as if they were entirely for the sake of brotherhood.

Yet, falling into the ears of Gu Rong, they were even more grating than the winds at Jialing Pass.

"Bullshit!"

Gu Rong cursed outright, the phantom of his Bone Dragon flickering in and out of existence; he was clearly furious.

"Tang San, do you have any shame left?"

"What do you mean by 'accustomed to using a sword with your left hand'?"

"Are you saying Old Chen's arm isn't made of flesh and blood? Are you saying we should just sacrifice ourselves for your brothers?"

"We saw it in the Sky Screen just now; in the future, to save you, we two old bones even threw our lives away!"

"And now, you're even calculating over a single fruit?"

Gu Rong's voice was thunderous, making the hall hum with vibration.

Tang San remained in his bowing posture, neither rising nor refuting.

This was a stance.

It was also a forced ultimatum.

He was gambling.

Gambling on the current predicament of the Seven Treasure Glazed Tile Sect.

Gambling on Ning Fengzhi's sense of the big picture.

Nowadays, Martial Soul Hall was powerful, and there was also that unfathomable Skywater City.

The Seven Treasure Glazed Tile Sect had long been crippled; if they did not rely on him, Tang San, if they did not rely on a future god, they would have no chance of making a comeback.

Ning Rongrong looked at this unfamiliar Third Brother before her, feeling a chill run through her entire body.

She wanted to speak, wanted to lash out.

But it felt as if her throat were stuffed with cotton.

Just then.

Ning Fengzhi, who had been silent all this time, stepped forward.

The expression on the face of this gentle and refined sect master was complex to the extreme at this moment.

He looked at Chen Xin, then looked at Tang San.

Finally, his gaze settled on the future situation.

After a long while.

Ning Fengzhi let out a long sigh and slowly closed his eyes.

"Uncle Sword."

This call sounded exceptionally heavy.

Chen Xin's body trembled, and he turned his head sharply to look at Ning Fengzhi.

In the eyes of the child he had watched grow up, he saw a kind of resolution.

A coldness that could sacrifice everything for the interests of the sect.

"Fengzhi, you..."

Gu Rong looked at Ning Fengzhi in disbelief.

Ning Fengzhi did not look at Gu Rong, only lowered his head, his voice somewhat hoarse:

"Ma Hongjun is also one of the Shrek Seven Devils, gifted with extraordinary talent; if he can recover, he will surely be a great help in the future."

"With the great war imminent, we need every ounce of strength."

"Uncle Sword... let us... yield this immortal fruit to Sect Master Tang."

As the words fell.

It was like a sharp blade, ruthlessly plunged into the hearts of Chen Xin and Gu Rong.

Ning Rongrong widened her eyes, tears streaming down her face.

"Dad! How could you do this!"

"That is Sword Grandpa's arm!"

Ning Fengzhi turned his back, saying nothing more.

Tang San straightened up, his face devoid of much joy, wearing instead a heavy expression.

"Many thanks to Sect Master Ning for your profound sense of righteousness."

"Many thanks to Senior Chen Xin for your sacrifice."

He reached out his hand, waiting for Chen Xin to give it to him.

Chen Xin looked at the warm Dao Body Immortal Fruit in his hand, suddenly feeling it turn incomparably cold.

He laughed.

His laughter sounded somewhat desolate.

This was the sect he had spent his entire life protecting.

This was the "hope" he had seen on the Sky Screen, the one he would have shattered his bones to save.

"Good."

"Very good."

Chen Xin tossed the Dao Body Immortal Fruit away, throwing it to Tang San.

It was as if he were discarding a useless stone.

"Take it."

Tang San caught it steadily, a flash of sharp light crossing his eyes.

"Thank you, Senior."

This scene made everyone present feel a chill in their hearts.

However.

Before this oppressive atmosphere could ferment, a terrifying fluctuation that made souls tremble suddenly erupted from the distant horizon.

Rumble--!

Everyone turned their heads in unison, looking toward the direction of Skywater City.

They saw that the sky, originally thick with tribulation clouds, was now displaying a strange spectacle.

The thunder filling the sky should have been a symbol of destruction for all things.

Yet, in the face of that deep blue power, it appeared so insignificant.

The giant sword formed by the convergence of nine water dragons was not made of common iron, but condensed from pure laws.

It hovered in mid-air, the surrounding space slightly distorted.

The heavenly thunder seemed to be provoked as well, transforming into a purple thunder dragon and roaring as it charged down.

The two collided.

There was no earth-shattering explosion.

There was only silent annihilation.

People watched in horror as the giant water sword gave a slight tremor.

That was a judgment originating from an ancient era.

Water is the most yielding.

Yet it is also the most unyielding.

Under the will of Neuvillette, the flood filling the sky seemed to transform into the sharpest of instruments of execution.

Crack--

That arrogant thunder dragon was actually sliced straight down the middle by the water sword!

The lightning shattered, turning into specks of starlight that dissipated.

Immediately after, the water sword surged upward, piercing straight into the thick tribulation clouds.

A stir.

A tremor.

The clouds covering the sky vanished in an instant.

Sunlight spilled back onto the earth.

The water sword did not disappear immediately; instead, it turned into a gentle rain, showering down upon Skywater City.

Above the City Lord Mansion.

Neuvillette withdrew his cane and straightened his sleeves.

His expression was indifferent, as if he had just brushed away a speck of dust.

"Silence."

These two simple words, despite the vast distance, seemed to ring out in everyone's heart.

Over at Jialing Pass.

The hand Tang San used to hold the Dao Body Immortal Fruit trembled uncontrollably.

He watched the dissipating phenomenon, and for the first time, a deep sense of fear welled up from the depths of his eyes.

Could even... a heavenly tribulation be judged?

What kind of power was that, exactly?

As Chen Xin watched that scene, the dead gray in his eyes suddenly ignited with a strange, brilliant luster.

That is what a powerhouse looks like.

That is the only... god truly worth following!

The water vapor filling the sky had yet to disperse.

On the ramparts of Jialing Pass, there was a deathly silence.

It was as if everyone's throat had been gripped by an invisible hand, leaving them capable of nothing but hissing gasps.

What was that?

Was that even within the realm of human capability?

The heavenly tribulation that had just been about to destroy everything had proven as fragile as paper before that seemingly delicate sword of flowing water.

One strike.

It split the thunder dragon and shattered the tribulation clouds.

In that moment, Neuvillette was not just a man; he was the sole order of this heaven and earth.

Chen Xin stood where he was, maintaining the posture of having just thrown the fruit.

But his eyes, which had been somewhat cloudy, were now terrifyingly bright.

He stared fixedly in the direction of Skywater City, the corners of his eyes even splitting and bleeding from the sheer intensity of his gaze.

Yet, he felt no pain.

He felt only a tremor.

A tremor of "having heard the Way in the morning, one can die content in the evening."

"Is that... a sword?"

Chen Xin muttered to himself.

In his eyes, that was not merely the manipulation of water elements.

That was a sword.

A peerless sword that used heaven and earth as its scabbard, rivers as its edge, and judgment as its intent.

By comparison, the Seven Kill God Sword in his hand, despite bearing the name of a god-sword, seemed so artificial, so narrow.

He had spent his entire life pursuing the pinnacle of the sword path.

He had thought the pinnacle was sharpness, was slaughter.

But after seeing that one strike from him, he finally understood that he had been nothing more than a frog at the bottom of a well.