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墨書 Inktalez
With a single word made true, the overwhelming sword energy descended like a great mountain above Wen Tian's head. The grandeur of the technique caused the gathered crowd to feel their spiritual energy shields tremble, forcing them to reinforce the barriers once more.
Wen Tian found himself unprepared; with a sword aimed at his heart, retreat was impossible. What could he do?
He resolutely raised the Wenxin Sword above his head. As the sword light and sword mountain fell, he continuously channeled energy, striving to wear down the sword energy released by Wei Wuyou.
At that moment, with the sword mountain pressing down, even if Wen Tian wanted to withdraw, he found it impossible to escape and had no choice but to endure that strike.
Everyone knew that while the consumption of sword energy was less than that of Sword Light Barrage, facing the overwhelming sword energy earlier had already forced Wen Tian to unleash two beams of sword light to fend off the onslaught. Yan Dong sought to block the descending sword mountain with Sword Light Barrage, but the cost was likely something a Nascent Soul Cultivator could barely withstand.
Crack! Crack! Crack!
The sound of shattering sword energy echoed continuously in everyone's ears. The sword light was indeed more solid than the sword energy, yet as the sword mountain pressed down relentlessly, Wen Tian's channeling of sword light vanished in mere moments.
Finally, the sword mountain bore down upon him. No one believed that Wen Tian could withstand such a grand strike. However, among a few individuals with Divine Sense, there remained a flicker of Righteous Qi standing firm against the sword mountain, growing ever stronger instead of dissipating.
Just as some Nine Nether Cultivators were about to celebrate their victory, a surge of golden light erupted from beneath the sword mountain. The long stream of sword energy shattered instantly, revealing Wen Tian's somewhat disheveled figure.
Even though Bu Luo had managed to block eight inches of the sword mountain, the Wenxin Sword—having accompanied Wen Tian through countless seasons—was now battered and broken, with many cracks marring its surface.
Gasping for breath, what a fine sword it was.
Even Wei Wuyou could sense the excitement and sorrow emanating from the Wenxin Sword at that moment. Only a true swordsman could understand such emotions; only a swordsman would possess such feelings.
It doesn't matter; there will come a day when it belongs to the Sword of Pride, and there's nothing to gasp about.
Wen Tian shook his head and gently flicked the Wenxin Sword. The blade seemed to scatter like sand blown by the wind, drifting through the world.
But if I no longer have a sword, Dongyi would not summon me as Dong Lai.
He has one, right there.
Wen Tian waved his leg, yet no one could see where the sword he mentioned was. Among the Sword Cultivators, Wei Wuyou felt a prickling sensation, knowing that Wen Tian was not speaking blindly.
I am strong enough to force him to draw his sword nine inches. I am not the first; even Zhu Xian Mountain does not have full confidence in catching Jie Donglai's strike. If he can unleash his initial blow now, I will win against Jie Donglai; if I cannot catch it, then I will die.
One trial will reveal all.
As Wen Tian insisted, Wei Wuyou slowly closed his eyes. Gripping the hilt with all his might, he finally managed to pull out the Forget-Me-Not Sword by the ninth inch. Following that was the ninth inch's admonition; though his voice was soft, everyone could hear it clearly.
In a moment, there are nine; Youluo gives rise to myriad changes.
With righteous energy surging forth, it stood firm and unyielding.
Two grand and powerful sword techniques appeared before everyone simultaneously. The interplay of offense and defense was filled with countless transformations, leaving spectators breathless. Even those without Nascent Soul could see countless streams of light flashing before their eyes.
At times, a chill emanated from Youluo, causing an involuntary shiver.
At times, they exhibited a magnificent righteousness, akin to basking in the warmth of the sun.
No matter how powerful the sword technique of Bu Luo was, there would always be a limit. Wen Tian responded to change with constancy, and with a single sweep of his hand, he struck at the heavens. Wei Wuyou unleashed nine swords that transformed into countless others, shifting and changing endlessly, yet he was constrained by his realm and unable to fully unleash his swordsmanship.
Both of them simultaneously let out a muffled groan, spitting out a mouthful of fresh blood. The scene once again took everyone by surprise; the two great Sword Cultivators were locked in a stalemate, initially resulting in mutual destruction.
Clearly, neither wanted to lose face. One leaned against the Sheath of the Sword and the Forget-Me-Not Sword, while the other knelt on one knee as if gripping a long sword between his legs. Neither wanted to be the first to fall, both straining to maintain their stance while glaring at each other.
Desperate to save face, they suffered in silence. He couldn't believe that he had enough spiritual energy to trip him up.
It was unclear who refused to back down. If I don't deny it, after our previous battle, did I think I would have another chance?
Bah! That one strike—could I possibly execute it twice in succession? The name Wen Tian could be written backward.
I don't deny it. Quickly pull those two back; this isn't good at all.
Everyone knew that neither had the strength left to strike anymore, yet it was as if they were hurling insults at each other like quarrelsome women in the street.
Hong Ling waved her leg, and Jiang Anbo along with Lu Chen Zhou flew into the arena, dragging the two back. At that moment, both began cursing loudly at each other, leaving those nearby feeling embarrassed.
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