Chapter 335: Sword Cultivators Have Their Limits!
Outside Xiaofeng Mountain, emotions swirled in complexity.
"He disappeared... So that was the precious spatial Artifact he ntioned in his transmission? Does he really have a way to deal with that chicken Netherkin?"
Among the injured Nascent Soul cultivators, one spoke with unease.
More people turned their gaze toward the three Nascent Soul cultivators who had traveled with them—those who wielded the Dao insights of wood, water, and fire.
After all, among them, only these three had a slightly deeper understanding of the young man who had appeared.
However, when the three exchanged glances, they all saw the sa complicated expression on each other’s faces.
At most, they only knew about the battle at Daybreak City against the Soulblade Specter. Even the fact that this young man was actually the peerless genius of the Demon Sect—their so-called Holy Saint—was sothing they had just learned.
In the end, it was the fire-affinity Nascent Soul cultivator who braced himself and spoke first.
"You all saw it too... Although that immortal pot suddenly reacted just now, that man was clearly prepared. He used a special Artifact to take away the entity drawn out by the pot. This proves that everything is still within the control of that Demon Sect’s Holy Saint."
"In that case, when we faced that special Soulblade Specter back at Daybreak Mountain, wasn’t the Demon Sect’s Holy Saint acting in the sa way? At first, he was nowhere to be seen, but then, when he finally acted, he changed the course of battle drastically. In the end, he used so unknown Artifact to directly eliminate that Soulblade Specter, which we had been helpless against."
"His strength alone is already no less than that of a Nascent Soul cultivator, but the most terrifying thing is his unpredictable thods... You all felt the might of that slash just now, didn’t you? Even though he didn’t strike in the end, we’ve all personally witnessed the power of his blade before. That was no re bluff."
After these words, the Nascent Soul cultivators fell silent, their eyes filled with deep thought.
Especially the burly, red-faced man—when he recalled that slash, which had given him a faint sense of mortal danger, his expression grew even more complicated.
"No matter what, all we can do now is wait and see what he does... Sigh, to think that I once refused to believe that a re Golden Core cultivator could deal with that special Soulblade Specter. Looking at it now, I was simply ignorant."
"By the heavens! If that damned chicken Netherkin hadn’t taken my sword, I wouldn’t end up like this! Otherwise, with all of us working together, we might have been able to cut that chicken Netherkin down beneath the pot! The Netherkin Race’s sches are truly sinister!"
"Agreed! We sword cultivators rely entirely on our swords. If the Netherkin Race were to use such underhanded tricks to strip the sword cultivators of Sword Province of their weapons before launching an invasion, it would bring disaster to countless lives... But speaking of that pot..."
Everyone’s gaze suddenly turned toward the old Daoist with large, bell-like eyes.
The old Daoist, looking rather disheveled due to his injuries, was holding a small black pot. He straightened up, stroked his white beard, and spoke solemnly.
"Hmm... This battle has given this old man so new insights..."
"Sword cultivators, after all, have their limits."
"Once we lose our swords, we lose sixty to seventy percent of our strength... If only we had supplented our training with other techniques earlier, we wouldn’t have fallen into such a predicant so easily today."
Thus, if he managed to survive this battle safely, he planned to search the entire Immortal Nation for secret techniques related to pot cultivation. It was ti to fully develop the power of this immortal pot, which he had never truly valued before.
The surrounding Nascent Soul cultivators also fell into contemplation.
None of them chose to leave at this mont. Instead, they raised their heads slightly.
The ti had reached dusk, and day was beginning to give way to night.
...
Luo Wusheng had finally arrived at the mont he deed the most unpredictable and crucial—the decisive battle against the chicken Netherkin.
The battlefield would be set within the space of the Antediluvian Nether Eye.
This was an experint he had proposed.
If successful, it would allow him to take far fewer risks. If it failed, he would have no choice but to take the gamble and activate an alternative plan.
(It should be fine... Although I haven’t tested it before, my connection with the Antediluvian Nether Eye has remained unbroken. And what I’m feeling right now does resemble the sensation of a spatial shift...)
He was certain that he had re-entered the Eye’s space once again.
The backdoor he had intentionally left in the Antediluvian Nether Eye had also been triggered—likely by that chicken Netherkin following in pursuit.
His efforts had not been in vain. He had deliberately provoked the creature, and after guessing that it placed great value on items related to the Ancient Phoenix, he had used the Ancient Phoenix Essence as bait.
Though he wasn’t sure why the blood-colored aura from the black pot had been absorbed by the Ancient Phoenix Essence, the resulting effect seed even stronger than he had initially expected.
(Hmm, just like what Yao Ji had warned about before handing the Antediluvian Nether Eye—powerful Netherkin Clans all have ways to interact with and activate the Artifact... But now, this thing is basically an extension of my own eyes. If I want, I can eject any foreign entity from this space at will.)
Thus, the Antediluvian Nether Eye’s space was the most advantageous battlefield for him. He could attack or retreat as needed. The only problem for now was how long he could remain inside.
At that mont, the disorienting feeling of spatial distortion gradually faded from Luo Wusheng’s body.
He subconsciously let out a breath of relief. The sensation of spatial transition had been clear as day, and he had successfully linked with the preparations he had made within the Eye’s space—there was no doubt that his plan had worked.
But just then, a soft voice called out from behind him.
"Senior Brother?"
The familiar voice made Luo Wusheng freeze.
He instinctively turned around and saw his junior sister standing there, her delicate brows furrowed, her small face still carrying a trace of unsettled fear.
Bai Xiaoyao was gently supporting the still-unconscious Sword Fairy. Her eyes, reflecting Luo Wusheng’s figure, trembled slightly.
"Junior Sister? Shouldn’t you be—"
Waiting in the safe zone he had set up within the Antediluvian Nether Eye’s space—far from the battlefield—to avoid getting caught in the crossfire?
Luo Wusheng didn’t finish his sentence.
Because he had already noticed sothing unusual.
The cube-shaped platforms that once populated the Eye’s space were now nowhere to be seen. Only an endless void stretched before him.
"...What happened?"
Luo Wusheng’s heart sank slightly.
He was certain that he was still within the Antediluvian Nether Eye’s space, yet even as its master, he had no idea what was going on.
"I don’t know... Earlier, Yuli and I were simply waiting for Senior Brother, but just a few monts before you appeared, this place suddenly beca like this..."
Despite her usual composure, Bai Xiaoyao’s voice carried a faint trace of concern.
Seeing his junior sister in this state, Luo Wusheng was about to say sothing when his instincts suddenly flared. Without hesitation, he extended an arm and pulled the two delicate girls behind him, shielding them.
His gaze turned toward a specific point in the void.
The space there began to distort—sothing was about to erge.
"Demon Sect’s Holy Saint! You cannot escape!"
A thick, inky-black aura of corruption erupted forth.
Luo Wusheng furrowed his brows, but almost imdiately, his expression relaxed.
His hand moved toward his storage bag.
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