This Is My Sword

The Star-Robed Sacred Lord felt a wave of relief as Ji Wushang shifted his target elsewhere.

Then, from afar, he heard Wang Hao shout again.

“Friends of the Star Constellation Sacred Ground, don’t just stand there!”

“Your ancestral bell just hurt him!”

“He holds grudges!”

“He’ll definitely come for you first!”

The Star-Robed Sacred Lord’s face instantly turned as black as the bottom of a pot.

“Wang Hao!”

“Shut your mouth!”

Wang Hao looked utterly innocent.

“I’m just giving you a friendly warning.”

“If you won’t thank me, why are you cursing at me?”

The Star-Robed Sacred Lord was so furious he nearly lost his composure of the Dao heart.

But the people from the other sacred grounds immediately grew alert.

Right.

Ji Wushang holds grudges.

Whoever hits him hardest might become his next target.

So they instinctively widened the distance between themselves and the Star Constellation Sacred Ground.

Seeing this, the Star-Robed Sacred Lord nearly spat blood.

“What are you doing?”

“We need to join forces!”

“Are you really going to fight among yourselves at a time like this?”

No one answered.

But everyone became even more cautious.

Wang Hao let out a soft sigh.

“Alas.”

“When hearts are divided, the army is hard to lead.”

The Demon Lord shot him a sideways glance.

“Aren’t you the one who deliberately divided them?”

Wang Hao said seriously:

“I’m just exposing the objective risks.”

The Demon Lord fell silent.

He suddenly felt that, compared to Wang Hao, even he, the Demon Lord, seemed a great deal more upright.

In the midst of the battlefield, Ji Wushang had already charged into the ancient tribe’s formation.

The phantom of a primordial ferocious beast clashed with him.

The beast bit down on his arm.

Countless tiny mouths on Ji Wushang’s palm bit back at the ferocious beast’s phantom.

The two sides tore at each other.

The ancient tribe’s powerhouses kept coughing up blood, their bloodline burning to the extreme.

“Sacred ground allies!”

“Why have you not struck yet?!”

“If we all die, you won’t escape either!”

This time, the other factions finally dared not hold back.

Because after devouring the ancient tribe’s true blood, Ji Wushang’s presence had indeed grown stronger.

The cracks at the edge of that incomplete evil eye rippled with black light, seemingly mending themselves slowly.

If they let him keep eating, everyone would be doomed.

“Kill!”

An old elder of the Sword Sect roared.

Behind him, ten thousand swords flew from their sheaths.

Each sword carried the sword intent of the Martial God realm.

All ten thousand swords converged into a silver sword river, cutting across the abyss.

The sword river slashed toward Ji Wushang’s neck.

On another side, the White Jade Divine Tower pressed down, a torrent of sealing runes spewing from its base, binding Ji Wushang’s limbs.

The golden ancient bell boomed once more.

Solar divine fire incinerated the sinister domain.

Netherworld profound ice froze the bone chains.

The mountains-and-rivers scroll unfolded, forcibly dragging half of Ji Wushang’s body into a miniature world within the painting.

At this moment, the sixteen sacred grounds truly began to go all out.

Ji Wushang roared toward the heavens.

His colossal sinister body was engulfed in countless rays of light.

The bone chains snapped.

The tattered war banner was torn to shreds.

The sinister heart-flame in his chest flickered wildly.

The small coffin in his abdomen was smashed concave by a divine hammer.

Black blood poured down like a waterfall.

Every drop of black blood that hit the ground corroded into a bottomless pit.

Onboard the Great Xia spirit vessel, the crowd watched with surging hearts.

Han Shanyue clenched his fist.

“They landed a hit!”

Yin Jiuyou said excitedly:

“Good!”

“More! Harder!”

“Don’t save strength for that Ji dog!”

The New Emperor Sword also chimed in.

“Chop him!”

“Strike his eye!”

“Yeah, yeah, hit the coffin-belly!”

“That thing definitely looks like a weak point!”

Wang Hao glanced at it.

“You sure know how to bark orders.”

The New Emperor Sword puffed up its bloated blade body.

“Master, little sword may not be able to fight in person, but little sword’s heart is on the battlefield with you all!”

Wang Hao said flatly:

“Then are you done digesting?”

The New Emperor Sword instantly deflated.

“Not yet.”

“That corpse of the ancient emperor is too tough.”

“But little sword feels it’s close.”

“Give little sword a bit more time, and little sword will evolve and show master!”

Wang Hao said nothing more.

He was healing his wounds while keeping his eyes fixed on the battlefield.

On the surface, he looked like he was leisurely watching the show.

In truth, his mind was taut as a bowstring.

The power of the Transcendence Physical Exam Card was down to its last sliver.

Very little.

So little that he no longer dared to act carelessly.

He had to wait.

Wait for the sixteen sacred grounds to wear Ji Wushang down enough.

Wait for the New Emperor Sword to finish digesting the corpse of the ancient emperor and complete a critical evolution.

Wait for the right moment for the ninth-floor purple thunder dragon of the Thunder Abyss Spirit-Suppressing Tower to find a true opening to strike the cracks in the evil eye.

This was the only path to survival.

Wang Hao knew very well: not a single ounce of his current strength could be wasted.

He was cunning.

But he was no fool.

When others could bleed, he must never bleed first.

Especially these Central Continent factions who had been waiting to pick up scraps.

Making them bleed a little gave Wang Hao zero guilt.

In the distant battlefield.

Ji Wushang, under siege, kept piling up injuries.

Yet the terror of a tenth-rank sinister being displayed itself to the fullest.

His half-severed neck was sliced by the sword river.

The next breath, hundreds of black tentacles sprouted from the wound, tangling the sword river and swallowing part of its sword intent.

His limbs were sealed by the White Jade Divine Tower.

The sinister heart in his chest gave a single pulse, and black bloodveins emerged at the base of the tower.

The tower spirit let out a shrill scream, barely escaping corruption.

Half his body was pulled into the mountains-and-rivers scroll.

Then the small coffin in his abdomen opened a crack.

A pale ghostly hand reached out from within and tore the painted world apart.

The scroll’s owner spat blood on the spot, his face ashen with despair.

“My mountains-and-rivers painting!”

“It’s corrupted!”

Ji Wushang laughed maniacally.

“You are all nourishment for this lord.”

“The harder you fight, the better you taste!”

He suddenly opened his mouth wide.

A black sinister sound-wave swept across in all directions.

Hundreds of cultivators of lower cultivation instantly froze.

A bizarre smile crept onto their faces, then their bodies melted into black blood, merging into the sinister domain beneath Ji Wushang’s feet.

The people of the sixteen sacred grounds were alarmed and enraged.

“Fall back!”

“Everyone below Martial God realm, fall back now!”

“Do not approach the sinister domain!”

But it was already too late.

Ji Wushang’s sinister domain expanded like a black swamp, swallowing all who could not flee in time.

Screams rose one after another.

This was the crux.

This was the pressure of a tenth-rank sinister being.

Not everyone possessed trump cards like Wang Hao’s.

Not everyone could survive even one move against Ji Wushang.

Most people, merely caught in the aftershock, became fuel for the sinister domain.

Bloody.

Brutal.

Hopeless.

But precisely because of that, the surviving powerhouses went utterly bloodshot-eyed.

A supreme elder of a sacred ground, hair disheveled, burned his lifespan.

“This old man has cultivated for eight hundred years!”

“Today I use my mortal shell to suppress the sinister!”

He shot into the sky, his entire being transforming into a blazing golden seal, slamming hard into the cracks at the edge of Ji Wushang’s evil eye.

Boom!

Ji Wushang let out a pain-filled roar.

The cracks on his evil eye widened by a fraction.

Wang Hao’s eyes lit up slightly.

“It works.”

The Demon Lord said in a low voice:

“Those cracks are his greatest weakness.”

“But getting close is too difficult.”

“That old man just now used his life to create an opening.”

Wang Hao nodded.

“So we let them keep ramming.”

Demon Lord: “……”

Although it was the truth.

But the way you said it so casually… is that really alright?

The New Emperor Sword suddenly shuddered.

A stream of grey-white death-aura surged out from within it.

Then it was forcibly pressed back by the black devouring light.

Its bloated blade body slowly shrank a little.

The spirit-figure draped over the sword, its face twisted in strain.

“Master…”

“Little sword feels like it’s almost done digesting the ancient emperor’s skull…”

“It’s a bit spicy.”

Wang Hao raised an eyebrow.

“Spicy?”

The New Emperor Sword nodded earnestly.

“Died too long ago. The flavor’s marinated in.”

Wang Hao: “...”

Yin Jiuyou nearly spat out his spirit fruit.

“This cheap sword really isn’t picky.”

Xue Wuhen remained expressionless.

“It is picky.”

“It’s picky about eating the expensive stuff.”

Everyone fell silent.

That made a lot of sense.

Wang Hao watched the aura of the New Emperor Sword gradually stabilize, and a bit of calm returned to his heart.

This cheap sword had a sharp tongue, but its devouring evolution ability was truly heaven-defying.

After swallowing the remnant corpse of the imperial body, its combat power was climbing from the seventh martial realm toward higher levels.

Though it couldn't instantly leap to the Martial God realm.

But with every bit stronger it grew, Wang Hao's chances with his next sword strike increased by that much.

In the distance.

The great battle between the Sixteen Sacred Lands and Ji Wushang had entered its most brutal stage.

The ancient bronze bell cracked open.

The white jade divine tower was stained black.

A third of the mountains-and-rivers scroll shattered.

Several half-transcendence realm experts were severely wounded.

Over twenty Martial Gods had fallen.

But Ji Wushang wasn't faring well either.

The decaying radiance crown atop his head was knocked askew.

A large patch of the eye-covered tattered banner behind him was torn away.

Nearly half of his spine bone chain was severed.

The white flames of the strange heart in his chest flickered unsteadily.

Most critically, the crack on that incomplete strange eye had grown far more obvious than before.

Wang Hao slowly rose to his feet.

He brushed the melon seed shells off his palm.

Han Shanyue immediately looked at him.

“Your Majesty?”

Wang Hao did not answer.

He simply gazed at the distant battlefield still locked in slaughter, his eyes growing deeper and deeper.

Ji Wushang had not yet reached his weakest moment.

The Sixteen Sacred Lands had not yet reached the point of collapse either.

He still had to wait.

But he couldn't completely ignore it.

Because if the Sixteen Sacred Lands collapsed too quickly, and Ji Wushang devoured too much, then there would be trouble.

Wang Hao raised his hand.

The Thunder Abyss Demon-Suppressing Tower floated in his palm.

Deep within the ninth floor's tower gate, purple lightning flickered faintly.

That purple thunder dragon was still sleeping.

Wang Hao said in a low voice:

“Fight harder.”

“Let more of them die.”

“Tear that crack in his strange eye even wider.”

“Then I will send him on his way.”

The New Emperor Sword lifted its head and said with difficulty:

“Master...”

“Should I prepare myself?”

Wang Hao glanced at it.

“Prepare for what?”

The New Emperor Sword grinned.

“Prepare to snatch the final bite.”

Wang Hao was silent for a moment.

Then he nodded.

“That's the right mindset.”

“Now that's my sword.”

The New Emperor Sword was moved to tears.

“Master finally praised me!”

Wang Hao said coolly:

“Don't get too moved too quickly.”

“If you fail to snatch it, I'll stuff you into Ji Wushang's mouth as a fish bone.”

The New Emperor Sword: “...”

In the distance.

Ji Wushang roared once more.

The experts of the Sixteen Sacred Lands all burned their origin sources simultaneously.

Between heaven and earth, divine radiance clashed with eerie energy.

Darkness and light tore at each other.

The Abyss of Ten Thousand Ruins had fully become an apocalyptic battlefield.

And Wang Hao stood on the spirit boat, robes stained with blood, eyes cold and sharp.

He was like a wounded hunter.

Temporarily retreating into the shadows.

Watching a pack of wolves and a monster tear at each other.

He wasn't in a hurry.

He was waiting.

Waiting for that monster to expose its throat.

And waiting for that pack of wolves to understand—

Watching the Great Xia Emperor's show.

Was never free.