80: Chapter 80 Battle of Wits

Clang!

A sound of metal clashing, shaking the very heavens, descended as if from the Nine Heavens Thunder Pool, completely severing the aftermath of the alchemy duel.

The massive forging platform was forged entirely from ten-thousand-year lightning-struck wood and geomagnetic origin metal. On the platform's surface, lightning surged like dragons and snakes, while scorching white subterranean fire spewed from the cracks, burning the air until it warped and wavered.

On the Sacred Land's side, a burly man with a physique as imposing as a mountain and knotted muscles stepped onto the high platform, bare-chested.

With every step he took, the entire massive platform rumbled, as if resonating with his heartbeat.

"It's the First Senior Brother of the Divine Work Pavilion, 'Iron-Refining Hand' Xiong Gang!"

"He once forged a Profound-grade magical treasure for a Sacred Land elder with his bare hands; his pair of palms are comparable to a ten-thousand-forged divine hammer!"

Exclamations erupted again from below the stage. Clearly, after their failure in alchemy, the Sacred Land had dispatched their most reliable general in the art of artifact refining.

Xiong Gang didn't waste words; he directly drew a stream of subterranean fire and, with a gulp, swallowed that violent flame into his belly.

His bronze skin instantly turned crimson, and rolling heat waves billowed from his body.

"Hah!"

He roared and took a piece of "Star Iron" the size of a human head from his storage ring, holding it directly in his hands.

Crimson spiritual energy surged from his palms, and the indestructible Star Iron began to soften and deform at a speed visible to the naked eye.

In the player channel, there was dead silence.

[Immovable as a Mountain]: Holy crap... is this guy... human or ghost? He's refining steel with his bare hands!

[Infrastructure Maniac]: Physics no longer exists. The thickness of his hand's stratum corneum has exceeded theoretical limits.

[Wolf of Wall Street]: Don't panic. We also have a secret weapon.

However, the player faction did not send a professional artifact refining master. The one who walked onto the stage was that petite and delicate female life-profession player with the ID [Skillful Hands Mending].

She didn't walk toward the terrifying subterranean fire, but instead pulled out a... sewing machine from her backpack?

No, it was a "Multifunctional Modular 3D Printing Magical Treasure Construction Instrument" composed of countless precision gears, rune arrays, and spiritual energy crystals, shimmering with a pink halo.

Amidst the stunned gazes of all the cultivators present, she fed standardized material modules into the intake, then tapped and drew on a light screen, as if playing some dress-up game.

"Hum..."

The construction instrument began to operate. There was no earth-shattering momentum, only countless soft streams of spiritual light weaving, shuttling, and shaping within it.

After the time it takes to burn an incense stick, Xiong Gang, drenched in sweat, finished forging the embryonic form of a heavy sword, while on the other side, with a "ding," the finished product compartment of the construction instrument popped open.

A longsword, shimmering with flowing light, perfectly shaped, and flawless down to the anti-slip texture on the hilt, lay quietly there.

The judgment result was without suspense. The players had taken another victory.

The subsequent formation duel turned into a farce.

The Sacred Land had set up the exquisite "Nine-Turn Yellow River Formation," but the player representative "Outlaw Zhang San"... he hadn't even thought about breaking the formation.

He directly commanded a group of players to use earth-moving magical treasures redeemed from the Contribution Shop to dig frantically at the foundation of the formation.

"Brothers! As long as our resolve doesn't waver, there are always more solutions than difficulties! Dig through it!"

Under the blood-vomiting gazes of the Sacred Land's formation masters, the Nine-Turn Yellow River Formation, which claimed to be able to trap a True Immortal, simply... collapsed because its foundation had been hollowed out.

Three to zero!

The entire Cloud Top Heavenly Palace was as dead silent as a graveyard.

The faces of all the Sacred Land cultivators stung as if slapped by an invisible hand.

Their pride, their orthodoxy, and their dignity were crushed into powder by these anomalies in a way they could not understand, a way that bordered on humiliation.

True Person Xuantian sat upright on his throne, his body no longer trembling; he had calmed down.

But everyone knew that this was the most terrifying calm before a storm.

Deep within his eyes, there was no longer anger, but undisguised, palpable killing intent.

"The final battle, a duel of magic."

His voice was so cold it seemed capable of freezing souls.

"Jian Wuchen."

As his voice fell, a figure in white, as if condensed from a beam of sword light from the Nine Heavens, landed silently on the last duel platform that had risen, which was crafted from a single solid block of "Return to Ruins Obsidian."

His white clothes were whiter than snow, unblemished by a speck of dust. His face was as handsome as a painting, but his expression was as cold as ten-thousand-year black ice.

He held a three-foot azure blade in his hand. Before the sword was even unsheathed, an invisible, sharp sword intent had already sliced through the air, causing countless cultivators below the stage to feel their skin sting, as if thousands of steel needles were hanging right before their eyes.

The Sacred Land's young generation's number one genius of the sword path, Jian Wuchen!

Seeing him, the eyes of all the dejected Sacred Land cultivators finally reignited with the fire of hope.

Strange skills and clever devices are ultimately minor paths; alchemy, artifacts, and formations are all external objects. Only one's own cultivation and killing techniques are the true foundation of a cultivator!

In the face of absolute strength, all tricks will have nowhere to hide!

"It's him... Senior Brother Jian Wuchen!"

"Great! Senior Brother Jian's 'Dustless Sword Heart' has reached the realm of perfection; his heart is like a clear mirror, untainted by dust, and no demonic path or evil way can shake him in the slightest!"

"Kill that barbarian! Use his blood to wash away the Sacred Land's humiliation!"

Amidst the mountain-shaking, sea-roaring cheers, Jian Wuchen's eyes showed no fluctuation. He just looked quietly at the player faction, as if looking at a group of dead objects.

From the player faction, a figure lazily yawned and walked out slowly.

He didn't have fluttering white clothes, just a simple martial outfit. He didn't fly through the air; he just walked up the steps step by step, his pace as casual as if he were strolling down the street.

On his face hung a faint, rogue-like grin that made people want to punch him the moment they saw it. ID: [Zuan Pianist].

"Is that him? That madman with a mouth full of filth?"

"Hmph, a clown, daring to act presumptuously in front of Senior Brother Jian!"

[Zuan Pianist] stood still a hundred meters away from Jian Wuchen, picked his ear, and completely ignored the surrounding insults and that sharp sword intent.

Jian Wuchen slowly raised his eyes, his voice icy cold: "Draw your sword."

[Zuan Pianist] grinned, revealing a mouthful of white teeth: "To deal with you, I don't need that thing."

Jian Wuchen's brows furrowed slightly for the first time. He stopped talking and gripped the hilt of his sword with his right hand.

Hum— A clear sword chime rang out, echoing across heaven and earth!

He seemed to merge into one with the sword in his hand. A sky-piercing sword aura rose from the ground, transforming into a towering white sword radiance that pierced straight into the clouds!

The cultivators below the stage were trembling with excitement; this was the power they were familiar with and revered!

However, at the very moment Jian Wuchen was about to draw his sword, [Zuan Pianist]'s lazy voice clearly spread throughout the entire venue.

"Say, pretty boy, this outfit of yours is pretty expensive, right? If you wet your pants in a bit, it won't be easy to wash."

"What?" Jian Wuchen's movement stalled. The cultivators in the audience were also stunned.

"I heard," [Zuan Pianist] said, stroking his chin with feigned seriousness. His voice wasn't loud, but with the amplification of mana, everyone heard it clearly. "Someone was chased and bitten by a neighbor's mutt when they were a child, got so scared they fell into a cesspit, and soaked in it for a whole hour before being fished out. Tsk tsk, that smell, is it still fresh in your memory, Jian... Wu... Chen?"

Boom! Jian Wuchen's mountain-steady sword aura shook violently!

On his frozen face, a crack appeared for the first time, and a flush of shame and anger rushed up.

"You... talk nonsense!"

This matter was the greatest childhood trauma of his life; besides his parents, absolutely no one knew!

Below the stage, in the player channel.

[Gossip Reporter Little Trumpet]: Teehee, done! The granddaughter of the old servant who fished him out back then works in the Sacred Land now. A cup of [Happy Water] and she spilled everything!

[Zuan Pianist] acted as if he didn't see Jian Wuchen's reaction and continued to speak to himself: "Oh? Nonsense? Then let me talk about something else. This 'Dustless Sword Heart' of yours sounds pretty awesome, claiming to be 'too noble to harbor emotions' and 'untainted by the mortal world.' But how come I heard that three years ago, on the birthday of Fairy Yueyao of Danxia Peak, someone stood outside her cave dwelling for three days and three nights just to give her a lousy flower he grew himself, only for the Fairy not to even open the door and just send a maid to pass on a message?"

Jian Wuchen's breathing instantly became rapid! The sky-piercing sword aura began to fluctuate violently, flickering on and off!

[Zuan Pianist] mimicked the maid's tone, pinching his voice and speaking sarcastically: "'My young lady says, swords are cold, and so is your heart. She would rather her lifelong companion be a fat cook who can tell her jokes than spend every day and night facing an iceberg like you for ten thousand years. Young Master Jian, please go back.'"

"Pfft—" "Hahahahahaha!"

Below the stage, a few young Sacred Land disciples couldn't help but laugh out loud, but they immediately covered their mouths tightly, turning bright red from holding it in.

Fairy Yueyao was the recognized goddess of the Sacred Land, the dream lover of countless disciples. Jian Wuchen's unrequited love for her was almost an open secret, but being rejected so cruelly, and having it exposed in public, was a first!

"You... seek... death!" Jian Wuchen's eyes turned red.

His sanity was being torn apart piece by piece; on his frozen Dao Heart, spiderweb-like cracks appeared!

The sword in his hand let out a wail of unwillingness, and the sword intent became violent and chaotic!

"Seek death? I think that's you, isn't it?" [Zuan Pianist]'s smile suddenly became cold and sharp, like a scalpel, precisely stabbing at the opponent's most vulnerable vital point.

"You think you're practicing the 'Dustless Sword Canon'? Bullshit! You can't even cut off the most basic inner demons, you can't even pass the trial of love, and you're talking about a Dustless Sword Heart?"

"Every night when you dream, does that sentence from Fairy Yueyao sound like demonic noise in your ears, making you toss and turn, causing your spiritual energy to backflow?"

"This so-called sword path of yours is twisted from the roots! Your sword is not a pure sword at all, but garbage filled with jealousy, unwillingness, and delusion!"

"You, do you even deserve to be called a sword cultivator?!"

"You can't even control your own heart, yet you want to control the sword?!"

"You—" "Don't deserve it!!!"

The last two words, like a thunderbolt from the Nine Heavens, struck fiercely into Jian Wuchen's sea of consciousness!

That precarious Dao Heart finally... "Crack—" A crisp sound that seemed to come from the depths of his soul.

Jian Wuchen's sky-piercing sword aura, like a punctured balloon, instantly vanished into smoke.

His whole body began to tremble violently, his handsome face became distorted, and blood began to seep from his seven orifices.

"Ah—" He let out a wail so shrill it didn't sound human, and suddenly threw his head back.

"Pfft—!!!" A large mouthful of blood, mixed with shattered internal organs, sprayed out wildly, scattering a scene of miserably beautiful, blood-colored plum blossoms in the air.

The light in his eyes completely dissipated. The three-foot azure blade he regarded as his life slipped from his powerless hand and fell to the ground with a "clang."

Immediately after, this last hope of the Sacred Land, the young generation's number one genius of the sword path, fell straight backward, facing the sky.

Thud. The dust settled.

The whole venue was dead silent. You could hear a pin drop.

Everyone stared dumbfounded at the stage, at that figure in white who had fallen into a pool of blood and passed out, and at that player with the rogue-like grin who hadn't moved a finger from start to finish.

Won? Just like that... won?

High up on the pavilion, the Ninth Prince Ji Haoyue's hand holding the teacup froze in mid-air.

The tea spilled out and burned his hand, but he didn't even notice.

His mind was blank. For the first time, he felt a trace of fear from the bottom of his heart.

What he feared was not the strength of these anomalies, but their... unheard-of "fighting" style that ignored all rules and struck directly at the most fundamental weaknesses of human nature.

This was no longer a duel of magic. This was a war on the heart!

And in the deeper mist, Fairy Yunshang slowly put down her teacup.

In her eyes, which understood the ways of the world, a light bordering on greed flickered.

What a sharp blade! A "scalpel" that could precisely excise the ethereal and illusory thing known as the "Dao Heart"!

She saw a brand new possibility, one capable of subverting traditional modes of warfare.

On the high platform, [Zuan Pianist] disgustedly clapped his hands, as if he had touched something dirty.

He looked around at the tens of thousands of stunned faces below the stage, and finally, his gaze landed on True Person Xuantian on the throne, whose face had already turned ashen.

He grinned and slowly raised his middle finger. "Is that it?"

"Boom!!!" The ten-thousand-year cold jade throne beneath True Person Xuantian shattered instantly, turning into powder!

A terrifying pressure, like something that could destroy the heavens and earth, descended with a roar!

"You... all must die!!!"