Chapter 2780 - 66: Like a Dream, Like an Illusion (Part 3)

Pig Dali felt that his bloated body had become incomparably nimble at this moment. He surged forward with that endlessly hacked-apart bone spear, pierced through the whirling bone spurs, and in an instant crashed together with that white bone skeleton—

Swish!

The flash of a blade swept past.

Every single bone of this skeleton was cleanly separated out... a total of two hundred and six pieces.

More astonishing still, not a single bone bore any superfluous blade mark.

Even slicing tofu, one could hardly cut it so uniformly.

It was truly breathtaking!

At this moment, the panic in Pig Dali’s heart over She Guyu’s sudden mishap had scattered by much. The Daozhu is here; gods and ghosts alike retreat!

But to the Taiping Taoist, who was in control of this body... this was merely basic utilization of a cutting edge, hardly worth being called a brilliant Sword Style.

Compared to Dou Zhao’s Sword Style, this isn’t even close.

What Jiang Wang truly focused on was the changes of the skeleton before him—whence it came, why it appeared, how it dissipated and then ceaselessly reformed; whether this process could be interrupted; how many times it could reconstitute; and with each reconstitution, its strength surpassed the previous... surpassed by how much?

Sometimes battle is merely the process of verifying one’s thoughts.

Crack! Crack! Crack!

This time Jiang Wang did not completely shatter the skeleton, yet those bones, cleanly separated, still once more reassembled in some manner he could not yet discern—among them a joint bone that he had deliberately pinned beneath his boot, covered with Path Origin, also vanished without ripple, returning to the reformed skeleton.

This time, on top of the white bones, it bore threads of red blood, its form bizarre and vicious. In its hands it gripped a long Bow, the spine as bow-body, blood vessels as the long string.

And there were three long arrows, three medium arrows, three short arrows... nine arrows all raised, all nocked.

Within the blue-black blood vessels, blood surged like tide.

Rumble, rumble!

Thus bone arrows left the string!

Jiang Wang, controlling Pig Dali’s body, moved his feet lightly, his body lightly shifting, walking straight into the flight of the arrows,

It was indeed a vicious Skill of Archery, yet compared to Li Fengyao and Li Longchuan, it fell short by more than one grade.

Clang!

The bone arrow, ghastly white streaked with blood threads, pinned itself squarely against the horizontally held blade.

Pig Dali’s fat, large body withdrew a step, the long blade still quivering.

It was not that this arrow was unimaginably powerful, but that it truly approached the limit of Demon General Level strength. It was power Pig Dali himself could not reach.

The skeleton’s strength was growing ever greater!

Even Pig Dali could clearly feel this.

Yet he felt himself still moving forward, strolling as though through a quiet courtyard amid the ear-piercing shrieks. With just a casual tilt of his head, the arrow brushed past the fat of his cheek.

Then with another vaulting step forward, the blade’s edge swept out with a frosty wind...

When the frosty wind passed, all things withered; even bone dust no longer remained.

Could it still reconstitute?

It could!

This time there was not even a trajectory; a Demon hung with decaying flesh and a tattered skin-sack appeared out of thin air.

Its gender could not be distinguished, its features were blurred, barely any good flesh left on its body, yet it had a pair of hands with bones clearly jointed and textures sharply defined.

Blood-evil aura coiled up around its body, surging skyward to gather clouds.

Both hands reached toward The Heavens, and when they fell back down, they drew forth a sword of blood-red twisted with black.

Its body turned like lightning, one sword straight for the throat!

For a brief instant, Pig Dali thought he was about to die on the spot, with no chance of survival. But in the blink of an eye, he saw his own long blade had already sliced off the opponent’s head.

By this point in the battle’s unfolding, it had completely exceeded his scope of understanding. No matter how much he tried to ponder, he could no longer grasp the subtleties within.

And that skeleton once more rose from death to life, becoming stronger yet again.

This time, not to mention Peaceful Ghost Messenger Pig Dali—even the Taiping Taoist in his true self, well-versed and wide-seeing as he was, felt a jolt of astonishment.

For what appeared before them now was a withered, aged Demon, its shape rotten and vile, its body hunched; yet in its outline one could faintly discern... Pig Dali’s likeness!

A sickly, emaciated, aged version of Pig Dali.

And for the first time, it uttered a voice; that aged and painful voice rose in a long song, the song saying—

"What sorrow is there in life, what hatred is there in death. Undying, unextinguished, within the Eternal Youth Spring!"