Chapter 517 | I Really Don't Want to Cultivate Immortality!

A heavy sword has no edge, and true skill requires no polish. A fast sword leaves no trace, and afterimages move like the wind.

With the battle flag strapped to his back, it looked as if it were dripping with fresh blood under the reflection of the blood-red sun.

The youth sped forward, alone, facing the crowd as he moved against the current.

He formed a stark contrast to the entire length of the long bridge.

While others were leaving the bridge,

he was getting on.

A rare sight indeed!

The fastest-charging demon brute, wielding a spiked club, felt a surge of killing intent the moment he saw Xu Xian.

It wasn't that he recognized Xu Xian, but rather the battle flag strapped to the youth's back.

It was the flag of the Wendao Sword Sect.

"I'm in luck. To think I'd run into a little brat from the Wendao Sword Sect. I'll be the one to send you to your grave!"

With that, he dragged his spiked club along the bridge's surface and charged toward Xu Xian, his eyes filled with mockery and killing intent.

"Brat."

"Die."

Xu Xian said nothing. He stomped the ground and accelerated abruptly, his speed surging so fast that the brute only heard an explosive crack in the air.

The spiked club didn't even have time to swing.

A gust of wind whooshed past his side.

Fast.

Too fast.

He was so fast that the brute hadn't even seen what happened...

His speed gradually slowed.

At first, he only felt a slight chill on his neck and found he couldn't breathe.

Then, before his nervous system could even react, his head fell off and rolled along the bridge.

His body collapsed with a heavy thud.

His hand still gripped that spiked club.

This scene was naturally witnessed by the beings following behind, many of whom were from the same tribe as the demon brute.

They were stunned!

"He's dead?"

"So fast."

But the battlefield allowed no time for dazing. They quickly regained their senses, and their killing intent surged.

"Stop him!"

"Kill him!"

Xu Xian’s eyes were as cold as ice. His killing intent spiked as he roared.

"Death to those who block me!"

He charged forward into a storm of blood. With every rise and fall of the youth's sword, bodies were left strewn across the bridgehead.

It was like a special forces soldier armed to the teeth charging into a kindergarten where the children were using lollipops as weapons.

They fell in rows like harvested wheat.

Even the younger generation of the demon race with royal bloodlines from the Eight Tribes were skewered with a single strike, unable to fight back in the slightest.

Upon the bridgehead, the geniuses of every race stayed clear of him.

It was hard to imagine.

That there was such a ferocious youth among the human race.

Who is he?

From the Wendao Sword Sect?

Could it be...

"Xu Xian?"

It was only a guess.

Amidst the chaotic shouts of slaughter, Xu Xian emerged drenched in blood. He had single-handedly fought his way up the high bridge, leaving a path paved with corpses behind him.

"He's too fierce."

"Get out of the way, quick!"

"Shit..."

They went from actively attacking and intending to hunt him to avoiding him from a distance.

If Xu Xian so much as glanced at someone, they would immediately leap off the bridge.

Jumping might not kill them, but staying certainly would.

The number on the back of his right hand also jumped from (1) to (10), (100), (200), (300)...

Don't underestimate those few hundred kills. This was a battle of pure physical combat, and every opponent was a fully armored cultivator.

For ordinary beings,

a duel could last dozens of minutes without a clear winner.

Yet here he was, carving a record while moving against the crowd and making an enemy of everyone.

In the midst of ten thousand soldiers, he was truly unstoppable.

Guided by the Little Book Spirit, Xu Xian soon found the group from the Wendao Sword Sect who were being besieged.

On this platform, fewer than two hundred disciples of the Wendao Sword Sect remained.

Most were injured.

Their armor was soaked in blood.

With one thousand eight hundred disciples across the Eight-Direction Platforms, each platform should have had over two hundred disciples on average.

The slaughter had begun less than eight minutes ago, yet dozens had already been killed or wounded on this single platform. The brutality of the battle was clear.

It went without saying.

These were disciples of the Wendao Sword Sect. Every one of them was an elite of the human race, capable of standing against a hundred alone.

Xu Xian took a great leap and landed firmly in front of the disciples, stepping on an enemy in the process.

His longsword followed, piercing the opponent's forehead.

The blood-stained youth slowly stood up and jerked his sword out, swinging it to the side as blood sprayed into the air.

He shouted a single word at the crowd before him.

"Scram!"

His white outfit was now dyed bright red. The edges of his twin swords gleamed with a chilling light. With his straight back and the fluttering battle flag,

he looked like a god of war descending to the world, exuding an overwhelming pressure.

The chaotic battlefield momentarily froze.

Many within the Wendao Sword Sect recognized him immediately, their eyes lighting up with excitement and agitation.

"It's the Little Grand-Uncle!"

"The Little Grand-Uncle has come to save us!"

"This is great..."

The commotion and voices from the Wendao Sword Sect naturally reached the ears and eyes of the surrounding crowd.

Little Grand-Uncle?

The Wendao Sword Sect's Little Grand-Uncle?

Who else could it be but Xu Xian?

As they looked at the youth again, the caution and gravity in their eyes intensified.

'Is he Xu Xian?'

'He truly lives up to his name.'

'It could only be him.'

Seeing that he had suppressed the opposition, Xu Xian did not hesitate for a second.

There were still four more Eight-Direction Platforms waiting for him. He couldn't afford to delay.

"Follow me! We're charging out!"

He raised his arm and shouted, then turned back to carve a path through the way he had come. The Wendao Sword Sect disciples followed him, shouting and howling as if they were on stimulants.

They charged back with him.

"Charge!"

"Fight our way out!"

"Follow the Little Grand-Uncle to the death!"

Cohesion became tangible at this moment.

Those behind didn't dare to pursue, and those in front didn't dare to block.

Somewhere on the bridge ahead, a being who had just played dead to survive Xu Xian's charge was about to get up and flee. But when he turned his head, he saw that familiar figure doubling back.

Behind him followed over a hundred Wendao Sword Sect disciples, all howling in a frenzy.

The being went completely numb with shock.

"Damn it, here we go again..."

Without a second thought, he was so terrified that he simply leaped off the high bridge.

And so, under the watchful eyes of the crowd, Xu Xian successfully led the Wendao Sword Sect members off the long bridge and sprinted toward the west.

The other forces on the platform just watched, none of them daring to interfere.

Even the geniuses and top candidates of various races.

They could only secretly burn Xu Xian's appearance into their memories.

However, they couldn't help but whisper among themselves, "Is that Xu Xian?"

"He's so strong!"

"Could I beat him?"

"He really is a formidable rival!"

Repeating the same process, Xu Xian led the hundred-plus people he had rescued to another platform.

As time passed, the long bridge of this platform had become crowded with beings landing one after another at the bridgehead.

The situation was chaotic and even more complex.

Xu Xian instructed the disciples to rest and regroup, defending their current position.

The disciples were unwilling.