C594 Breaking Free from the Shackles
The sword bearer's technique was unbound by convention.
As if a spectral presence had taken residence within him, Yu Yuan, the swordsman, confronted the myriad beings of the Outland Star River, the Devaputra Alien Race, and towering beasts. He navigated the cosmic pulse, wielding the profound truths of the Great Dao to exploit the vulnerabilities of the devaputras and the colossal creatures with the precision of a butcher carving an ox.
Yu Yuan sensed the disappearance of his sword.
His arms had become the ultimate, razor-sharp blades!
The sword soul, in unprecedented exhilaration, resonated with his sword spell, harmonizing with his every gesture to orchestrate the circulation of his spiritual energy, blood, and consciousness, fully expressing the essence of the sword spell.
In an instant, he found himself deep within the Outland Star River, amidst a fierce battlefield, embodying the Great Sword Immortal.
Alone, he faced the innumerable devaputras and behemoths!
With a mere thought, the sword spell was unleashed.
Ssssh!
Threads of consciousness, woven into a shimmering stream of sword light and intent, swirled around stars of deep red, dark green, or pitch black.
The myriad stars descended into the resplendent river of sword light and intent emanating from his heart, transforming into a celestial stream adorned with twinkling stones, in sync with the forces of creation, the cycle of life and death, and the celestial dance of the sun, moon, and stars.
Each radiant river of sword intent carried its unique embodiment of the Great Dao truths.
Yet, as these rivers of light swept across, the terrifying devaputras and the Outland titans clad in golden armor were obliterated in their wake.
In this realm, the steadfast swordsman stood his ground, as if he could remain unyielding for a millennium or even ten thousand years.
Meanwhile.
As Yu Yuan delved into the mysteries of the Sword Dao True Spell, strands of sword light from the Sword Prison streaked towards his vacant cave like bolts of lightning.
Occasionally, a strand would vanish.
The sword sheath in his grasp alternated between luminous and dim, its intermittent glow casting an enigmatic aura.
The silver mountain was riddled with countless caves, yet no longer did any sword intent or sword light spill forth, slicing through the void.
Still, at the mouth of each cave, a web of sword intent and light stood guard.
But the sword light and intent weaving between the stone paths had thinned, the gaps between them widening with time.
Yu Yuan and Chen Qingyan first came upon Xi Quan, a practitioner of the Withered Sword, seated quietly in a corner, her gaze lowered, enveloped in an aura of deathly silence.
"Swoosh! Swoosh!"
Near her, the dense sword intent and light in the stone path were drawn away by Yu Yuan, scattering into the air.
Xi Quan began to stir from her slumber.
Her hair was white as snow, yet her face remained youthful. However, her vitality had waned, her spiritual power reduced to a mere one percent, her soul faint and fragile.
She regulated her breath in silence, using her understanding of the Withered Sword to transform what little strength she had left.
Her once youthful and beautiful visage slowly succumbed to wrinkles and a dull, lusterless hue.
The power she had used to preserve her beauty now seeped from her face, trickling quietly through her parched meridians.
"My meridians haven't felt the flow of spiritual energy in so long, they're almost unaccustomed to it," she said with a wry chuckle, her voice rough and raspy.
As power surged into her right palm, her hand, gnarled as a chicken's claw, began to glow.
She reached for the sword case before her and grasped the fearsome Withered Sword. Grasping the hilt, she drew the bone-forged blade, inch by inch, from its sheath.
"It's been too long, even you are on the brink of withering," Xi Quan murmured, looking at the sword with the tenderness one reserves for a lover, her fingertips gently caressing the blade.
In an instant, the Withered Sword burst forth with a ghostly white radiance!
Few knew that this Withered Sword was forged from the bones of her dearly beloved, a fellow disciple of the Sword Sect.
They were once the golden couple, the envy of all, a match made in heaven.
Her life's love, whom she had slain by her own hand, had become the essence of the Withered Sword, marking her journey down a path of extremes.
Swoosh!
With a swift motion, Xi Quan, together with the Withered Sword, slipped through the rift in the sword intent and light, entering the adjacent cave.
A once robust Moon Swallowing Ape, drained of its blood and Qi, had withered to the size of a wolf. It lay curled in a corner, only to be jolted awake unexpectedly.
The Eighth Level Moon Swallowing Ape gazed at its infamous neighbor, and for the first time in centuries, it darted past the sword spell's seal within the stone path, its fur standing on end in sheer terror.
"How can you possibly...?" it stammered in human speech, shaking uncontrollably.
Since its confinement in the Sword Prison, the ape had been uneasy, knowing that Xi Quan, the wielder of the Withered Sword, was next door. This Moon Swallowing Ape, once a formidable force alongside the Demon Clan's army in the Boundless Land, with might rivaling that of a Yang God, had been restless ever since.
Xi Quan had attempted to pierce the sword spell's seal to strike at him, but to no avail, as the sword light always held firm.
Gradually, the Moon Swallowing Ape found solace in its predicament, resigning itself to a quiet existence, no longer dwelling on the past. But now, with Xi Quan standing before him, brandishing the Withered Sword, the Eighth Level Moon Swallowing Ape sensed impending doom.
"You, a great demon, fled in the midst of battle against the alien race. You were already marked for death," Xi Quan, her visage aged, said as she delicately held her lover's bones. She scoffed at the Moon Swallowing Ape, "Your survival was a courtesy, extended for your past valor in the service of the Demon Palace within the Boundless Land. But I owe no allegiance to your palace, and having been cast out from the Sword Sect, I must fend for myself."
With that, she and her lover's bones fused in a mystical union, transforming into a beam of pale sword light.
The sword light blossomed into a flower of death, its white brilliance casting an aura of decay, enveloping the Moon Swallowing Ape.
The Moon Swallowing Ape was entombed within the sword light's bloom, its life essence being siphoned away.
Ensnared by the sword light's deadly embrace, the Moon Swallowing Ape wailed and shrieked in agony. Its vitality, flesh, fur, and demon soul all rapidly deteriorated, as it experienced the entirety of its life's journey in mere moments.
The Moon Swallowing Ape, a rare breed among demons, was imprisoned within the Sword Prison. Its demon soul had been stripped of power, and upon its arrival, its vitality had been siphoned off completely.
Yet, the Sword Prison was crafted from the essence of the moon itself. With its innate bloodline abilities, the Moon Swallowing Ape covertly harnessed the moon's energy to bolster its strength.
This particular Moon Swallowing Ape stood out as one of the few creatures in the Sword Prison that managed to retain some of its vital energy.
That's precisely why Xi Quan had set her sights on it.
Moments later, the once formidable Eighth Level Moon Swallowing Ape was cast out of the sword light-formed flower bud, discarded like a worthless carcass.
Thud!
The ape hit the ground hard, its bones shattered, completely devoid of any remaining life force.
From within the spectral flower bud, Xi Quan emerged, her steps graceful and light. Her visage was once again youthful and stunning, her features as exquisite as a painting, her neck and hands glowing with a jade-like sheen.
Xi Quan's eyes sparkled with renewed vigor, yet the flower bud behind her emanated an intense aura of decay and death.
With a soft chuckle, the flower bud transformed into the Withered Sword and was delicately slid into her sword sheath.
"Next," she murmured under her breath.
...
Whoosh!
The former leader of the Nagas, his skin a deep shade of purple, shrank his frame and slipped through the sword's barrier.
"Zhongli Da Bo!"
Loong Jie, his face contorted with rage, slammed his foot down. Hundreds of slender, purple dragon breaths, like tiny dragons, surged toward the towering Ancient Desolate Sect warrior.
Zhongli, broad and stout, seemed to have anticipated the attack, laughing heartily as he swung his sleeve and raised his fist.
The barrage of purple lightning was effortlessly shattered by Zhongli's powerful fist intent.
"Why the anger, Brother Loong?" he said, even as he struck. "Is it not just a drop of dragon blood you've lost? See, thanks to that very drop, the young one has advanced to the Penetrating Stage through my refinement, his Spiritual Sense finally taking form. It's only with that development that he can now harness the residual power within the Sword Prison."
"Brother Loong, we'll remain forever grateful to you and always remember your kindness."
"Without you, we'd still be trapped in Sword Prison, unable to escape and see the light of the outside world."
The savage, bloodthirsty old dragon, after his hundreds of dragon breaths were pulverized by the force of Zhongli's fist, sensed the power of Zhongli was on par with his own and swiftly regained his composure.
"The Ancient Desolate True Spell is truly formidable, leaving you with energy to spare," Loong Jie said, his expression grave.
He realized that continuing the fight would be futile; they couldn't overcome Zhongli, and he'd only be wasting his strength for no gain. "Whether you want to leave is your concern. I'm content here in Sword Prison. I have no desire to leave!"
"Brother Loong, what are you so afraid of? I know," Zhongli said with a wide grin, bursting into laughter. "How many years has it been? The one you fear has long been dead! You're out of touch inside here. I've heard that the founder of Sword Prison, the first warden, is no more."
"How could he possibly be dead?" Loong Jie was both elated and stunned. "He was a Great Sword Immortal at the Primordial Spirit Stage, the mightiest in the history of the Sword Sect!"
Loong Jie's reluctance to leave Sword Prison stemmed from a deep-seated fear of that individual, believing that revealing their presence would spell death for them all.
"He's certainly dead. Without his demise, I wouldn't dare step out of Sword Prison, not with all the sword intent and sword light seals," Zhongli said with a hearty laugh. "And he didn't fall to the Outland Devaputra or the Galaxy Alien Race. His end came within the Boundless Land, a victim of a vile and cunning plot."
