Chapter 242: The Sword of the Past
Feijue Peak is one of the most precipitous and strange peaks in the world, reaching straight into the sky and surrounded by spiritual mist. Ever since one of the lords of the Demon Realm ascended to heaven from here, it has been regarded as a holy place by tens of thousands of believers, with monuments and statues erected and incense constantly burning in the world.
His existence seemed to prove one thing to the world: good and evil are not an unbridgeable gap; immortals can become demons, and demons can naturally become immortals.
In front of the towering palace is a huge training ground, which is suppressed by sixty-eight black dragon pillars on all sides. There is abundant spiritual energy, and when the magic circle is activated, it can protect the spectators outside from being hurt by the aftermath. At this moment, the disciples of the immortal sects are sitting outside in order. It could have been said that everything is in good order. Unfortunately, because most of them were defeated in the three stages, there are only a few hundred people at most. Against the backdrop of the huge training ground, it is inevitable that they seem a little lacking in momentum.
A man in red sat high up on the throne, with half a glass mask on his face, his eyes slightly closed, his expression indifferent. Even if he sat there without saying a word, it would make people feel terrified. Below him were four guardians.
The corpse puppet changed into a set of battle armor and wore a pitch-black mask on his face. For a moment, no one recognized that he was the swordsman following Lu Yan. The only one missing among the four was Tang Su, who was wearing green clothes.
Lei Nu took a step forward, looked at everyone and said loudly:
"At this juncture, all the great masters of the Immortal Blade have gathered together to learn from each other and give each other advice. The leader will give each other rare treasures. But I have to say that the swords on the stage are blind. No one will complain about life or death, and no one may seek revenge!"
A casual cultivator in the audience stood up and asked, "Since the leader said he gave us a rare treasure, we should ask for clarification. Is this rare treasure the legendary Heart and Soul? Lest we fight to the death, but the gift we get is just some ordinary things. Please enlighten us, Lord Ying."
Lei Nu turned her head and looked at Ying Wujiu, who nodded. She took a deep breath and said,
"Whoever wins the sword contest today will receive a heart soul!"
The light words were like a huge rock hitting the sea, causing countless waves. Everyone in the audience was overwhelmed with joy, but some cautious people asked:
"The Heart and Soul is a rare treasure in the world. Lord Ying, are you really willing to use it as a prize?"
The Thunder Girl glanced at the man coldly and said, "Believe it if you want, and quit if you don't. We didn't put a knife to your neck to force you to participate. Even if the Demon Realm doesn't take out its soul as a prize, it will be taken away by you sooner or later. It's better to take it out and let each of us be at peace!"
Everyone suddenly realized what was going on after hearing this. It was now widely rumored outside that there was a piece of soul in the Demon Realm, which had attracted the attention of people from all walks of life. Ying Wujiu must have been annoyed by this, so he took it out as a prize, right?
After all, everything must have a legitimate reason. No one dares to take away the heart and soul when it is in the hands of the donor. But if it falls into the hands of Ying Wujiu, it will be very different. Anyone can fight for it in the name of slayer and defender of justice. In this case, it is better to hand over the heart and soul and avoid countless troubles.
Everyone had a clue in their minds and stopped asking questions. Just as the elders of each sect were discussing who to send to fight first, a purple figure suddenly flew up into the air and landed gracefully on the arena. It was Elder Yuedeng of the Tianyu Sect. She stared coldly at Ying Wujiu and then made a gesture of invitation:
"Yue Deng from the Tianyu Sect has come to learn from you all. I wonder who from the Demon Realm is willing to come up and compete?!"
Anyone with a discerning eye could see that the opponent she really wanted to compete with was Ying Wujiu, but it was a pity that Ying Wujiu would not make a move unless the fight reached the final stage. There were more than 20 sects participating in this Sword-asking Competition, but only Wuwang, Tianyu, Feixing, Hongmeng, Shenji, and one Buddhist sect were in the lead. Each of these six sects sent out a powerful person to compete with the Demon Realm, and it all depended on who would win in the end.
Ying Wujiu tapped the armrest of the chair with his fingertips and said in a low, playful voice, "Shui Mei, you go."
"yes."
A gentle-looking woman in a blue shirt flew out upon hearing the words, landing in front of Yuedeng as if nothing had happened. She nodded slightly, with a dot of vermilion between her brows: "I am the guardian of the Demon Realm Lord, Shui Mei. Elder Yuedeng, please teach me!"
Yuedeng was merciless to the people from the Demon Realm. She said "be careful" and rushed over quickly. The golden bell in her hand rang loudly, but Shui Mei was not disturbed at all. Her body quietly turned into a ball of flowing water and wrapped Yuedeng in it, softening the hardness with the softness. The two of them fought hard on the field for a while.
While no one was paying attention, a figure suddenly appeared in the empty position below. Upon closer inspection, it was a young scholar carrying a fortune-telling banner. The position he chose was also clever, just avoiding the sight of the Wuwang Sect and squeezing in among a group of scattered independent cultivators, like a fish in water.
Don Yue sat at the first seat of Wuwang Sect, his face calm, as if nothing in the world could disturb his mood anymore. Behind him on the left was Xi Nian, who was extremely low-key, on the right was Tang Su, who was dressed in the uniform of a Wuwang Sect disciple, and behind them was Xiao Quan's group.
Lu Yan watched and suddenly laughed: Why are there so many undercover agents around Tan Yue? Fortunately, he did not go there, otherwise there would be one more.
Lu Yan stroked his fake beard and sat among a bunch of casual cultivators, looking like a stinky Taoist fortune teller. There was nothing he could do, Ying Wujiu didn't allow him to join in the fun at the Sword Contest, so he could only resort to this last resort of dressing up.
These independent cultivators had no sect or school and lived freely. Their rules were not as strict as those of the big sects. They chatted and boasted among themselves, which made Lu Yan hear a lot of gossip.
"Bah! What a famous and upright sect! You are such a disgusting person! Everyone can compete in the Sword Contest, but why is it that Donyue is so special? He has taken up all the places with the people from the six sects. Are we just going to watch?!"
"Brother Dao, why are you so upset? The six sects have sent out masters who have been famous for a long time. We can't even beat them, so how can we fight against those people from the Demon Realm? It's better to just watch the fun from the sidelines."
"What nonsense are you talking about! Even if you and I are not as strong as each other, is there no independent cultivator in the world who can fight against them? Is it true that only masters can come from the six major sects, and the rest are not worthy of being called masters?"
"Hey, you... that's not what I meant..."
Just as Lu Yan was listening to their quarrel with great interest, he heard a sudden cry from all around. It turned out that Shui Mei broke Yue Deng's soul-capturing golden bell and knocked her off the stage. People had only heard of the unpredictable strength of the Five Guardians of the Demon Realm, but they never thought they were so powerful. Yue Deng was also a well-known figure, but she was defeated so easily.
According to the rules, the next opponent will be selected by the Demon Realm. Shui Mei looked around and finally fixed her eyes on Jin Wumo, the holy pen scholar of Hongmeng Academy, and asked slowly:
"I have long heard of the great name of the Holy Pen Scholar. Would you be willing to teach me?"
Jin Wumo was inevitably surprised when he heard this. He didn't know why the gun was pointed at him, but he couldn't refuse in front of so many people. He was extremely alert and flew onto the stage with a Spring and Autumn Brush in his hand:
"Please teach me, young lady!"
As soon as she finished speaking, Shui Mei suddenly attacked. If she had shown some mercy when fighting Yue Deng just now, her moves towards Jin Wumo were deadly. Water, the softest and most yin flow in the world, was as sharp as a sword.
Lu Yan was watching the fight from the audience. After about an incense stick of time had passed, he saw the water spirit transformed into a whirlpool and wrapped Jin Wu Mo in it. Then it spun faster and faster, and the blue water flow gradually turned redder than blood. A scream was heard, and Jin Wu Mo's body flew out.
The disciples of Hongmeng Academy hurriedly stood up to help him, but found that Jin Wumo's right arm was missing. He had actually cut off one arm alive. They couldn't help but look horrified:
"Master! Are you okay?!"
"Witch! You are so brave to act so cruelly!"
The scarlet stream of water on the martial arts stage condensed into a human shape again, transforming into a water spirit in blue. She had black hair and snow-white skin, and looked calm and tranquil. However, the arm of Jin Wumo, which was still dripping with blood, in her hand inevitably gave people a sense of weirdness.
"My Lord, the Water Demon hands over the order!"
Shui Mei returned to Ying Wujiu with the severed arm, and then threw it to the ground casually, and the wound was instantly covered with dust. Jin Wumo was furious when he saw this. He became famous for his Spring and Autumn Pen, and his hands were the most important. Now that his right arm was cut off, it meant that his cultivation was cut off. He cursed bitterly:
"Witch, you cut off my arm today! All of us in Hongmeng Academy will fight you to the death!"
Ying Wujiu on the stage curled his lips coldly: "Before the duel, I said that we don't care about life or death. If you want to seek revenge, I might as well cut off the roots now and kill everyone in your Hongmeng Academy!"
No one dared to doubt the truth of his words. Even Jin Wumo was shocked and angry by his murderous aura. He spat out blood and shouted hoarsely, "Ying Wujiu, you...you are going too far!"
Ying Wujiu raised his eyebrows defiantly: "So what if I bully you?"
Bite me?
"puff--!"
Jin Wumo spat out blood in front of everyone and fainted from anger.
The donor was indifferent at first, but finally looked at Ying Wujiu, and said in a voice that was neither too loud nor too low, but loud enough for everyone to hear: "Master Ying, is this too much?"
"Too much?"
Even though Ying Wujiu was wearing a mask, everyone could clearly see the corners of his mouth slightly raised when he lowered his head. A low laugh escaped from Ying Wujiu's throat, and he could be said to be extremely happy. He was too thin, and when his shoulders trembled, even the gorgeous dark red robe accidentally slipped half off. For a moment, the only words that came to people's mind were madness and corruption.
Ying Wujiu laughed until he was out of breath: "It's just a broken arm, is that enough?"
Tan Yue: "Too cruel."
As soon as he finished speaking, Ying Wujiu suddenly raised his head and looked at him. Behind the mask were a pair of scarlet eyes, filled with sinister and murderous intent:
"This is his debt!"
As scary as a demon.
No one understood what this meant, except Tan Yue, whose expression changed. He seemed to have finally confirmed something, and he slowly exhaled: "Okay..."
He said: "On the stage, there is no regret whether you live or die, just do your best."
The implication is that the Immortal Sect does not need to show mercy and should beat the opponent to death.
Lu Yan sat in the audience, his eyes closed, his forehead propped up with his hand, looking silent and dead.
Just now, he heard the system prompt again, indicating that he had successfully unlocked the life of the novel character Jin Wumo. Lu Yan read it carefully and suddenly understood why Ying Wujiu wanted to cut off one of Jin Wumo's arms. He felt uneasy.
The casual cultivators around me were still chatting, and their low voices could not help but penetrate into my ears. Even if I didn't want to listen, I could hear them clearly:
"It is indeed the Demon Realm. They are too ruthless. Jin Wumo is a scholar. How can a scholar write without hands?"
"We'll have to weigh things up when we go on the court later. Broken arms and legs are not fun."
"There is no grudge in the past or today. What debt does Jin Wumo owe? Even if there is, let's forgive him when we can."
As everyone was chatting, they suddenly heard a deep and cold male voice:
"Jin Wumo once cut off someone else's arm. Now someone else cuts off his arm. Isn't this retribution?"
Everyone looked in the direction of the voice, and saw a fortune teller in white. The man lowered his eyes slightly, and was very handsome and unfamiliar. Finally, he looked at the man in red on the stage without saying a word. The faint sunlight from Feijue Peak fell on him, and there was an inexplicable chill in his eyes:
“…”
Even though a scholar has lost his hands and cannot write, others still know to forgive others when they can.
But the swordsman from the past had his arm cut off, so why was he thrown into the sword furnace and burned by that group of people?
Lu Yan shook his head slightly, not knowing. He still hasn't been able to unravel Ying Wujiu's life story. He can only piece together a fragmented image of him from other people's stories. Reading over and over again, every word is shocking.
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