Nightfall

The front yard of Peach Mountain quaked violently. Lebu, the number one martial art master of the Golden Tribe, finally made his attack. He did not react more slowly than the national master or Qi Nian or anyone else. He was a bit late because he cultivated on martial arts and it took some time for him to hurl his bulky body onto Ning Que like a tiger onto its prey.

But it did not matter whether he came earlier or later, as he was doomed to fail. Ning Que heard the roar coming from behind. He turned his wrist and drew the jet-black blade back from over his shoulder, pounding onto Lebu’s fist.

Lebu’s fist had knocked against Tang Xiaotang’s iron rod again and again previously. Although the iron rod was a sacred artifact of the Devil’s Doctrine, his bare fist has never been injured before. It had shown how horrifyingly high his cultivation level on martial arts was. However, when his fist met the iron blade, upon a cracking sound Lebu started howling like a wounded tiger. His wrist bones were smashed. The doughty and bulky figure was hurled away and plonked onto the ground.

Then came waves of South Sea groups and divine priests of the Divine Halls of West-Hill. Hundreds of Taoist swords were roaring and storming rapidly at Ning Que’s body in the front yard of Peach Mountain.

Everyone at the scene was aware that they had to kill Ning Que as soon as possible. In order to prevent him from shooting another arrow, they attacked one wave after another with no fear of risking their own lives. They came in waves because of their different levels in cultivation. The national master of the Golden Tribe, Qi Nian from Buddhism and Zhao Nanhai were of the highest state of cultivation. Lebu was slightly lower than them. The rest were even lower.

But it did not necessarily mean the later waves of attack were weaker than previous ones because the later waves were massive. Everyone joined this fight except Liu Yiqing and Monk Guanhai from Lanke Temple.

With the density of the sword storm, it was impossible for even the nimblest to escape. However, Ning Que had practiced his swordsmanship to perfection in the Wilderness on Min Mountain and learned the closeness principle from Sword Garret of South Jin Kingdom from Ye Hongyu. Even a real storm would not be able to wet his clothes as long as he put his skills to good use, not to mention a storm of flying swords.

Astonishingly, Ning Que did not even try to escape or shield his body by brandishing his blade. He took down one Taoist sword of an elder divine priest from the South Sea and simply ignored the rest of them.

Hundreds of flying swords hit Ning Que’s body and made him look like a hedgehog from outside. However, in a flash these hundreds of swords fractured inch by inch and fell around his feet like rotten straws.

The majority of Taoist swords were not even able to pierce through the divine glory enveloping his body. Even those Taoist swords propelled by people of Knowing Destiny State from Divine Halls of West-Hill and South Sea were merely able to rip his clothes and touch his skin before they were stopped and broken in a split second.

After practicing Haoran Qi, Ning Que trained his body to be as firm as a rock. When he was bestowed with Haotian’s Divine Power, he had run it through with Haoran Qi from inside out and made his body as strong as diamond, almost reaching the State of Immortality of Devil’s Doctrine. How could some ordinary flying swords possibly hurt him?

Broken swords fell piece by piece and piled up on the ground to the height of half a foot. They looked like piles of red and yellow leaves on the cold ground at the front yard of Peach Mountain. Ning Que stood amongst those piles.

Upon seeing this scene, the people in front of the altar felt chills. The ones whose natal Taoist swords have been fractured by Ning Que became hopelessly frustrated.

Today in the Rite to Light, there were at least two dozens of cultivators at the Knowing Destiny State. In addition, there were also peerless masters like the Hierarch, Qi Nian from Buddhism and the national master of the Golden Tribe, more than half of the top cultivators were assembled at the front yard of Peach Mountain. However, a troop of such great caliber was destroyed by Ning Que’s single blade.

In the intensive besiegement by powerful cultivators, Ning Que could not draw a second shot of the Thirteen Primordial Arrows or apply the legendary horrifying Divine Talisman. Yet he defeated all of them with an iron blade.

Ning Que used to be referred to as the weakest World Wayfarer in the history of cultivation. But now, who dared to call him weak again? Who was qualified to call him weak and who could ever out-power him?

Why was that? Was it because he had been bestowed with Tianqi? Why was he bestowed with Haotian’s Divine Power? Even if he had indeed surpassed the Five States, he was still not a follower of Haotian. Why was he not blown up by Haotian’s majestic Divine Power?

The people were stunned and speechless. They had so many questions but no one could provide an answer.

Right then, Ning Que thrusted his iron blade deeply into the ground and pulled up his iron bow again.

People in the front yard of Peach Mountain shouted out in alarm.

His iron blade was already horrifying enough. What would happen if he were to shoot the Thirteen Primordial Arrows again?

People would not allow such events to happen. Wounded or not, they made another fearless attack at Ning Que and stirred up the Qi of Heaven and Earth at the front yard of Peach Mountain.

Same as before, those of the highest states were the first to react.

The Divine Priest of Tripod, who was also the national master of the Golden Tribe, put on an even more imposing look. The wooden tripod in his hand darkened immediately and it was secretly covered with a thin layer of frost.

The national master activated and enlarged his ocean of psyche with the wooden tripod. He formed a bout of frigid psyche power that carried the hatred of countless victims from the Grassland and charged it at Ning Que.

He was so sure that even though Ning Que was empowered by Haotian’s Divine Power, he would not be able to stand still when facing this bout of psyche power with chilling hatred at the cost of countless victims. However, he found that his bout of psyche power disappeared right after he activated it, like a clay ox entering the sea and never to be found again.

Such a strike of psyche power was cut off by an invisible force!

What force could have cut off the psyche power?!

…

…

Almost at the same time, Qi Nian employed his strongest skill of Buddhism.

Qi Nian was a high-ranking monk from Xuankong Temple and the World Wayfarer of Buddhism who shared equal fame with Ye Su and Tang. Since the Heaven unveiled some preternatural vision in the Wilderness twenty years ago, he had swallowed his tongue and had been practicing Silent Meditation with compassion and perseverance ever since.

No one had heard him talk for over a decade. He did not open his mouth when he faced the secluded Twenty-Three-Year Cicada, leader of the Devil’s Doctrine, by the Snow Lake in Chang’an.

It wasn’t until recently that he spoke again. It was when Ning Que and Sang Sang was about to enter Buddha’s checkerboard in that autumn rain in Lanke Temple. Jun Mo, the Second Disciple of Academy, broke into the temple and Qi Nian uttered his first word after so many years. It was, “Swift!”

Because of the word “swift”, the ancient bell in Lanke Temple cracked, and Jun Mo was forced to unveil his weakness to Ye Su and hurled his iron sword. Thus it showed how powerful the Silent Meditation of this high-ranking monk was.

It had been a few years since then. Qi Nian had strengthened his Silent Meditation. He slightly opened his lips between which, in a tender autumn breeze, a pure white lotus flower was formed!

This monk had cultivated his Buddhist psyche into an entity!

This was even more unbelievable when compared to his Dharmakaya of Acalanatha!

The pure white lotus flower drifted away from his lips towards Ning Que.

No one knew what kind of power this pure white lotus flower would generate when it was approaching Ning Que.

Ning Que did not know either. And he did not want to know.

People at Peach Mountain’s front yard did want to know but that they were not able to figure it out.

It was because this pure white lotus flower that held boundless Buddhist psyche did not even get any closer to Ning Que. It did not go far from Qi Nian’s lips before it was broken into relics in front of his face.

What power could have silently chopped the lotus flower of Buddhist psyche into relics?!

…

…

Zhao Nanhai attacked Ning Que again with Haotian’s Divine Flame.

The Divine Flame formed a holy stream of light, but was again severed before it could travel further than several feet away from his index finger.

Lebu shouted loudly and sprang onto Ning Que like a wounded tiger.

He only made three steps before dozens of gashes were made on his body.

The psyche power was cut off!

The white lotus flower was chopped!

The stream of Haotian’s Divine Flame was severed!

The strongest body was gashed!

It seemed as if there were countless bouts of power hidden in the air around the altar.

Those bouts of power were sharp enough to cut off any worldly existence.

What power could be so horrifying?

The severed Divine Flame squirted around wretchedly. The chopped white lotus flower released Buddhist psyche that twisted lights. Lebu’s blood gushed out like a waterfall. Some lines loomed amongst those Divine Flame, lights, and blood.

The bouts of power were generated from the lines.

The lines seemed to be in a mess but had merged into groups of two to form the shape of a cross.

In the air around the altar, dozens of Yi Talisman appeared gradually.

These were the most powerful Divine Talisman Ning Que could ever draw.

This was the Divine Talisman that cleaved the Abbey Dean’s bones and flesh in Chang’an.

No one saw how he activated the Talisman. They did not knew that when Ning Que was drawing the iron blade, he was not only repelling his enemies but also drawing the Talismans.

With one draw, it was a single line. Upon a second draw, it became a Talisman.

That was the Yi Talisman!

…

…

Yi Talismans were flying around the altar.

No one dared to make further attacks. Even the proudest and strongest cultivators did not dare to take the risk against these simple crosses, as they had learned from the Abbey Dean’s mistake.

People were stunned not only because of Ning Que’s mystical skills of drawing talisman with blade, but also that he was able to draw so many talismans in such a short while.

A talisman master was gifted. It was not a game for everyone. People like Qi Nian could only grasp the basic principles of talisman. If compared with calligraphy, a talisman master’s psyche would be the ink to draw the talisman. It was hard for an ordinary human to imagine how much psyche power it required to draw a Divine Talisman.

It was impossible for the strongest Divine Talisman master like Yan Se to draw so many Talismans in such a short period of time!

But Ning Que made it. He did not even need to use meditation to recover his psyche. How could he have ever made it?

The Yi Talismans were flying around the front yard of Peach Mountain. Innumerable leaves fell and were smashed by the talismans. Countless screams were heard. Many were killed. People like Qi Nian were too stunned to make any step further.

The iron arrow was set on the bowstring, and the iron bow was being pulled.

Ning Que looked at the scene in front of him and recalled the snowstorm he experienced in Chang’an last year. The Tianqi bestowed by Haotian’s Divine Power was just like the boundless power that Chang’an had provided him.

With such power, he could fulfill many unimaginable tasks and draw as many Talismans as needed. He could stand in front of the Abbey Dean with confidence. It felt extraordinarily good.

It was the feeling of invincibility.