545: Chapter 545 Four Paths Enter the Formation - The Cataclysm Begins

"Junior Brother, let us withdraw." Laozi swept his gaze over the surging killing intent within the Formation, a hint of decisiveness flashing in his eyes.

Yuanshi did not say a word, but he understood in his heart: it truly could not be broken without the four Saints joining forces. This Zhu Xian Sword Formation lived up to its reputation—ruthless, overbearing, and allowing no room for luck.

The two of them withdrew from the Formation and consulted briefly. The rumor that the four swords of zhuxian could not be broken without four Saints was indeed true. After a long silence, Laozi sighed deeply. "Junior Brother, it is best to invite the two Saints of the West to come."

Although they had secretly informed them before, they were ultimately unwilling to owe this Karma. But as things stood now, there was no other choice.

Yuanshi immediately ordered the Old Immortal of the South Pole to rush to the West to deliver the message. Before long, Jieyin and Zhunti arrived gracefully. Laozi and Yuanshi personally went out to welcome them—the etiquette of a Saint must not be treated lightly. Seeing this, Tongtian's expression turned cold, and his anger surged, yet he was helpless.

The Three Pure Ones originated from the same sect, yet today they had to invite outsiders into the Formation to attack their own brother. How absurd was this? The concept of Face had been pursued to such an obstinate degree. Jiang Chen stood in the distance, the corners of his mouth curling up slightly in a smile, without saying a word—he had expected this long ago, but watching it still felt unsettling.

But no matter, the Zhu Xian Sword Formation was destined by the Heavenly Dao to be unbreakable unless four Saints gathered; it could not be forced. There would be many more times for the Chan Sect to suffer in the future; he only hoped they wouldn't jump in anger then.

"Please, you two—this invitation was originally to join forces to crush the Zhu Xian Sword Formation. Unexpectedly, upon closer inspection, I found that the Ten Thousand Immortals Formation has already been quietly linked to it. The fusion of the two arrays has caused their power to skyrocket. One slight mistake could lead to a total loss of Face, or even being trapped in a desperate situation."

"Rest assured, you two! Since we have come in person, we have already weighed the dangers within. How could we dare to be negligent? We will surely assist with all our might to level this wicked grand array!" Zhunti's eyebrows arched slightly, unable to hide his smile. He had been planning this for many years, and now that it was finally coming to fruition, how could his heart not be stirred?

After hearing this, Laozi and Yuanshi were speechless. It was Tongtian's fault for having such deep obsessions and extreme methods, actually setting up such a lethal grand Formation—at this point, there was no avoiding it, and they could only nod in silence. Seeing this, the two Saints of the West were secretly delighted, almost unable to keep the corners of their mouths from turning up.

"In my opinion, we should first break the Ten Thousand Immortals Formation. However, as Saints, it is not appropriate for us to strike too heavily against the Juniors."

Hearing this, the two Saints nodded in unison. It was indeed so—this array was extremely dangerous, especially since they could not intervene openly. One slight oversight might not only result in the loss of Disciples but could even shake their own Dao Foundations.

"We must be extremely cautious! Order the Disciples to carry more protective Magic Treasures and offensive and defensive Spiritual Artifacts, using strength to overcome trickery, only then will there be a glimmer of hope."

After a brief discussion, the four Saints knew there was no turning back. They immediately distributed heavy treasures: the Jade Ruyi, the seven treasure mysterious tree, the Universe Ruler, the Off-Ground Flame Light Flag... even the Disciples brought by the two Saints of the West were fully equipped with Magical Artifacts. After all, there was killing intent at every step within the Ten Thousand Immortals Formation. One slight mistake would lead to Soul Flying Away and Spirit Scattering, eternal damnation—how could they dare to be careless about such a major matter? How could they remain silent?

The Disciples below looked at their Revered Master's solemn expression, and their hearts skipped a beat: even the Saints were acting as if facing a formidable enemy; this array could likely swallow people whole. Who would dare to be arrogant? One moment of relaxation, and billions of years of bitter cultivation could instantly turn to nothing—that would be truly tragic.

"Listen well! This array is no small matter. One mistake, and your Divine Soul will be extinguished. Those with better luck might still be listed for Deification; those with slightly worse luck will fall into Reincarnation to cultivate again; if your luck is the worst—you will be reduced to ashes on the spot, without even a chance at Reincarnation! Have you remembered?"

Faced with such an Earth-Grade killing trap, even a Saint must hold their breath and focus. What they feared most was not losing their lives, but ruining their thousand-year reputations.

Laozi entered on a cloud from the East Gate, Yuanshi stepped through the void from the South Gate, Jieyin entered through cascading light from the West Gate, and Zhunti entered on a lotus from the North Gate—the four Saints each led a team of Disciples, infiltrating the heart of the grand array from four paths. The battle to break the Formation thus began.

"Wu Ji, keep a close eye on your own people later. Don't listen to others' commands, and don't join in the chaos—just break through the outer perimeter using your own methods." Yang Jian whispered his instructions, his expression solemn. Although this man was a Named Disciple of the Saint Lord, and life and death were up to fate, who could fathom the Saint Lord's thoughts? It was better to ask more and make fewer mistakes. After competing with each other over these years, he had long ago mastered the sense of propriety.

"Understood, you take care too. The waters of this array are too deep, I know what I'm doing—I'll only provide diversion on the outer perimeter and never venture inside. By the way, where is Nezha?" Wu Ji responded crisply, but looking around, he didn't see that fiery red figure and asked casually.

"Him? He dove in headfirst long ago!" Yang Jian shook his head with a bitter smile. "Don't you know his personality? Anyway, enough said, I have to go in too. If you sense even a hint of anything unusual, withdraw immediately! This isn't a training ground; it's the Cliff of Broken Souls."

When he said "you all," he actually meant the soldiers Wu Ji was leading—though they had been trained and personally guided by Wu Ji, their Foundation was still shallow, far from the level of facing the grand array directly.

"Go on, don't worry about me, I know what I'm doing." Wu Ji cupped his hands in a salute, then straightened his ranks and led his subordinates steadily into the Formation.

Yang Jian nodded, his Three-Pointed Double-Edged Blade held across his arm. His figure shot into the Formation like lightning, his expression as solemn as iron, not daring to relax in the slightest.

"Brothers!" Wu Ji stopped and scanned the crowd, his voice low but every word clear. "Today, we are going to see for ourselves what it means to overturn rivers and seas, and shift the stars and moon! Those who fear death, withdraw now. I won't stop you, scold you, or record your names—it's only human to be afraid. But I am a soldier; taking a step back would disgrace the military soul. You are the soldiers I trained; taking a step back would lose all Face! Quick, give me a straight answer!"

"Sir!" one man stepped forward, his voice loud. "We're not spineless! We're truly afraid, but we're even more afraid of not being able to hold our heads up in the future! Besides, this is a once-in-a-thousand-years immortal spectacle! If we survive, we'll have enough to brag about for a lifetime! Rest assured, no one is leaving; not a single person will let you down!"

The rest of the soldiers all stood tall with their heads held high, their eyes burning bright without a hint of fear—it was hot blood boiling, desire burning, a real and irrepressible expectation.

"Good! After entering the Formation, keep your eyes and ears open in all directions. Do not mess up a single step, and do not disobey a single order—only by being of one mind can we tear through this bronze wall and iron bastion!"

Before his voice had even faded, he had already led the group quickly into the nearest Formation. His expression was solemn, and the needle on the tray in his hand trembled violently, spinning rapidly like a living thing, precisely marking the core position of the grand array. This Formation was casually set up by a Saint, specifically designed for Mortals—though not meticulously crafted, it far surpassed the handiwork of ordinary Cultivators. From this effortless grace alone, one could tell how unfathomable the Saint's methods were.

The moment they stepped into the Formation, heaven and earth changed abruptly: before them, a boundless wilderness suddenly unfolded, the grassy waves as flat as a mirror, with no end or boundary in sight. Everyone stood in the middle of the empty grassland, looking around in confusion without a single point of reference. The scenery was suffocatingly monotonous, a world of blue-gray without any undulations; looking at it for too long made one feel as if their mind was being drained. Wu Ji's pupils contracted, and his back tensed—it was here, the true trial was finally beginning.

"Everyone, steady your minds!" His voice was not loud, but every word was solid. "Don't overthink, don't panic, walk one step at a time. Whether what's before you is real or an illusion doesn't matter; what matters is getting out. The calmer your heart, the brighter your eyes; the more pressure there is, the harder it is to notice anything unusual. Come, look slowly, observe carefully—where is something wrong? There's always a flaw."

Hearing this, everyone's hearts settled slightly. Now that their retreat was cut off, regret was useless, so they simply held their breath and focused, following orders. Their gazes swept over every blade of grass and every line in the soil, staring intently at even a single withered grass, fearing they might miss that one glimmer of hope.

"Sir! Look over there—a river!" someone suddenly shouted, pointing quickly into the distance.

Wu Ji immediately led his men forward at a brisk pace. The river lay quietly in the heart of the grassland, its surface as smooth as glass, without a single ripple. Strange—even on a morning with the weakest wind, there should be grass leaves trembling and a faint sound in the ears on the grassland, but here, even the sensation of wind brushing past one's hair was absent. Even stranger, the nearby green grass hung its head motionless, as if held down by an invisible hand. Wind is naturally formless, yet here it had completely vanished; after standing here for a long time, even one's breathing gradually lost its rhythm—this was definitely not a natural environment.

"Check again! Every inch of soil, every blade of grass, every grain of sand—don't miss anything!" Wu Ji ordered sternly.

Everyone bent down to search, their fingertips digging into the soil and their gazes scraping over the grass stems, but the surroundings remained identical, with no flaws to be found. As the minutes dragged on, anxiety quietly grew, and even beads of sweat appeared on Wu Ji's forehead. Could it be that only immortal methods could break this deadlock? No, there is no perfect Formation—there must be a loophole!

"Bang!" A dull thud suddenly rang out. Everyone turned their heads in unison to see a soldier with a flushed Face, the grass at his feet in disarray.

"What happened?" Wu Ji pushed through the crowd and stepped forward.

"Sir... I..." The man scratched the back of his head, his voice weak. "I really couldn't help it and just gave a random kick, right here! I kicked right here!"

Wu Ji looked where the man was pointing, and his gaze suddenly froze—where the grass roots were slightly overturned, a cold, hard glint of light flashed quietly. He leaned down and brushed away the loose soil, and the others immediately gathered around, scrambling to claw away the wet mud, revealing a palm-sized bronze plaque.

Wu Ji stared at the plaque, his brows furrowed: the shape was strange, the patterns obscure; for a moment, he couldn't even discern its purpose.

"Stupid! Wasn't it written clearly in the formula I taught you? Spending all day swinging blades and clubs has turned your brain to wood! For such a critical point, you actually need me to flip through the book for you? Sigh... taking you as a Disciple was truly the most unreliable decision I've made in my life!"

That familiar voice crashed down in his mind. Wu Ji shook his head with a bitter smile, not daring to answer aloud, but his heart felt a bit more at ease—to be able to become a Named Disciple under the Saint Revered Master was already a stroke of immense luck; how could he dare to be picky?

He immediately searched through the "True Five Elements Art" taught by Jiang Chen, his fingertips tracing over the dense runes before stopping on a page—it turned out this plaque was the core mechanism of the Formation; destroying one would shake the Formation's power. But there was more than one Formation base. Wu Ji quickly assigned tasks, ordering his men to search in all directions, while he himself channeled power according to the formula. A red light burst from his palm, and with a crisp "crack," the bronze plaque split with spiderweb-like cracks and suddenly dimmed.

The Formation swayed slightly, like a ripple spreading across water. The others immediately felt their vision clear and discovered three anomalies in succession: one spot where the grass was darker, one where the stone patterns grew in reverse, and one where the soil was tinged with rust-red—all were quickly presented to Wu Ji. Without hesitation, he activated true fire to incinerate them one by one.

The moment the last Formation base disintegrated, the light and shadows tore like paper. In a blur, the group found themselves standing before a man. His robes fluttered, and his Face was filled with shock, his lips slightly parted in disbelief—a group of mere Mortals had actually shattered his "Illusionary Plain Formation"? Could it be that this Formation was truly outdated?