Black mist permeated the air, thick with the scent of death.
On the distant horizon, the sunset clouds burned with ten thousand streaks of fire.
Behind him in the firmament, the Spirit Eye and the Demon Eye hung like the sun and the moon.
Yet, within this single city, all was dark and lightless.
The Sword Tower stood dim.
The world had lost its color.
Shrouded in darkness, the youth sacrificed yet another sword.
Unlike before, when this sword was unleashed, even a cultivator of the eighth-stage great ascension stage could not conceal the fear and wariness in their heart.
Death.
That was the unique aura of death.
Listen closely.
It was as if one could hear muffled wails and screams echoing from within the second floor.
The wind rose again.
Only this time, it was no longer a wave of scorching heat, but a bone-chilling cold, as if one had plunged into an ice cellar.
One youth, one Sword Tower, and three colors.
White, crimson, and dark...
The pure white tower, the heaven-burning flames, and the pitch-black mist.
Three seemingly unrelated elements switched between each other without the slightest hint of discord.
They played out in turns within this space.
"This sword has a name. It is called: Yel-low... Spring... Bur-ial!"
"Senior Sister, take it..."
His voice was deep and low, like a reaper claiming a soul. The sword emerged from the high tower and whistled through the air.
As if originating from hell itself, it traveled wrapped in an endless, sinister aura...
True to its name, a sword from the Yellow Spring was a sword of death.
The long sword traversed a hundred miles.
Ye Xianyu caught it steadily. In that instant, her sensation was identical to Yun Zheng's.
It was perhaps even more intense.
The malice of this sword...
...carried the intent to slaughter mountains and seas.
Holding the sword, the girl glanced back once before turning her head again. She gripped the sword hilt tightly and charged toward the horrified Red Moon.
"Little cat, your death is at hand..."
Red Moon roared in fury. "Kill him! Kill Xu Xian! Kill Xu Xian!"
Ye Xianyu charged forward with the sword, driving the sword of death with the power of extreme cold.
Though it lacked the world-shaking momentum of wind fanning flames, the icy sword intent wrapped in the breath of death did far more than lower the temperature; it struck directly at the soul.
The slaughter was absolute.
Fear began to sprout.
Red Moon, who was already being suppressed by Ye Xianyu, collapsed instantly upon contact.
She was utterly powerless to stop the yin winds stirred by the sword light, which ruthlessly dispersed the flames radiating from her body.
Red Moon was like the moon reflected in water or a lamp in the rain—tottering on the verge of extinction.
A single lapse in concentration, and she could lose her life at any moment.
Unwilling to accept this, she howled and roared, her actions nothing more than impotent rage...
She retreated again and again, deep into the East Desolation, until finally, when people looked up, they could only hear the distant commotion but could no longer see their figures.
The defeat seemed predestined.
Xu Xian had opened two floors and sacrificed two swords in succession. The Sword Tower behind him suddenly dissipated.
The world returned to normal. The scorching flames and the pitch-black mist vanished without a trace.
Spirit Elixir City remained Spirit Elixir City.
The cultivators within the city still hadn't moved, and the chaotic battle outside continued.
The youth who had drawn the swords sat cross-legged on the low wall, palms resting on his knees, eyes closed as he circulated his qi.
A circle of milky-white radiance emanated from his body, with spiritual energy slowly flowing over it.
Once a sword from the Sword Tower was sacrificed...
...it required Xu Xian to act as a conduit, maintaining a constant connection with the Sword Tower inside the youth's dantian.
The swords of the Sword Tower were far too powerful and overbearing. The existence of the Sword Tower was intended not just to drive the divine swords, but to use the tower itself to nurture and suppress their divine might.
Once the connection between the two was severed, the sentience of the divine sword would be unrestrained.
Therefore.
Whenever a sword was drawn, Xu Xian had to constantly operate his dantian, mobilizing spiritual energy to link the two together.
The moment his spiritual energy was exhausted, the Sword Tower would not hesitate to immediately recall the divine sword.
This was to ensure the divine sword would not spiral out of control.
Consequently.
There was no such thing as a cooldown or time limit for drawing the swords. How long a sword could stay out and how many could be drawn depended entirely on how long Xu Xian's cultivation could sustain them.
The further the sword traveled, the more it consumed.
The more swords drawn, the greater the consumption.
If only one sword was out, Xu Xian could still move freely. But now that he had sacrificed two swords in one breath...
...he had no choice but to do as he was doing now: concentrate all his energy on maintaining the balance of the two swords.
Outside the city.
The various demon sovereigns of the Great Desolation attempted to break through the blockade of the Wendao Sword Sect's Pavilion Elders to storm the city and kill Xu Xian.
But how could the members of the Wendao Sword Sect allow them to have their way?
They blocked them with their lives!
Even though the demons knew very well that the Emperor and Venerable Red Moon were in a dire situation, retreating in defeat...
...they also knew that as long as they killed the youth, this predicament would be resolved.
However, they lacked the strength to match their will.
The sacrifice of two divine weapons had a massive impact on them.
The retreat of the White Emperor and Red Moon into the Great Desolation left them in a state of panic.
Their morale was at an all-time low.
Forget breaking the formation; even holding back the Wendao Sword Sect members and maintaining the previous stalemate was extremely difficult.
Furthermore.
They were wary of Xu Xian, not knowing if he could sacrifice yet another sword.
If another sword truly appeared and fell into the hands of that madman-like young man...
...they feared that even if all of them combined, they wouldn't be enough for him to slaughter alone.
Once cowardice took root in their hearts, the situation reversed instantly.
Having cultivated to such a level, no one wanted to die.
Although the Eight Great Tribes of the Great Desolation all belonged to the East Desolation, they were not a single, unified force.
Just like the Wendao Sword Sect and the Central Plains, the major powers might share a common enemy on the surface, but internal strife and competition were inevitable.
This situation naturally didn't only exist among humans.
The East Desolation was the same.
The experts of the Eight Great Tribes began to have their own thoughts. They pushed and shoved, each choosing to avoid the brunt of the attack, and a rout quickly ensued.
They retreated from the Wild River and fled into the East Desolation.
In contrast, the Pavilion Elders of the Wendao Sword Sect were at the peak of their morale. They naturally pursued relentlessly, singing loudly with their swords in hand.
Atop the walls of Spirit Elixir City.
An immortal sword flew back, hovering above Xu Xian's head. Its blade pointed west, its cold light flickering.
The sword's name was Xianyu.
It was Ye Xianyu's sword.
It served as both a warning and a protection, intended to prevent the Central Province cultivators in the city from making a move against Xu Xian amidst the chaos.
A single immortal sword.
Guarding the youth.
The cultivators of the Central Plains naturally didn't dare to harbor the slightest ill intent.
If it had been earlier...
...perhaps they could have tried something.
But now.
The situation outside the city saw the Wendao Sword Sect advancing like a hot knife through butter. The East Desolation had been defeated, and the Emperor Bai Ze had been pursued to the highest heavens. They truly didn't dare to move.
Even though they were well aware that if Xu Xian didn't die, the Wendao Sword Sect would surely reach even greater heights in the future.
The Central Province was also destined to continue living under the dominance of the Wendao Sword Sect.
But if they actually made a move, putting aside whether they could live with it psychologically...
...it wouldn't be an exaggeration to say their entire sects might be wiped out if things went wrong.
Of course.
The shock that the previous scene had brought to their hearts still refused to fade.
To be honest, if they hadn't seen it with their own eyes, they truly wouldn't have believed that an evenly matched conflict—a war between humans and demons that occurred once every ten thousand years—could be instantly overturned by a single sixth-stage youth under the age of twenty-five.
It was undeniable that if the Wendao Sword Sect won today, Xu Xian would deserve the primary credit.
Or rather, the Wendao Sword Sect had already won.
Whether it was Yun Zheng or Ye Xianyu, when these two legendary sword immortals gripped those two peerless divine weapons...
...they couldn't imagine anyone under the heavens who could withstand their edge.
At the very least, Bai Ze certainly couldn't, nor could the beast gods of the East Desolation.
Unless those few legendary demon immortals in the North Sea made a move, the East Desolation's defeat today was certain.
The only difference was whether it would be a narrow defeat, a crushing defeat, or a total rout.
The battlefield was moving further away, but the surrounding clamor only grew more intense...
Silence.
Shock.
Trance.
Suddenly...
Conflicting emotions played out in cycles on different faces.
Looking at the youth on the city wall, everyone's thoughts were profound.
That tower seemed to still be before their eyes, and the youth's words echoed in their ears.
'If you are afraid...'
'...then retreat...'
'The swords of the Wendao Sword Sect shall protect you all for another ten thousand years...'
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