Chapter 1795: One Sword

The sword was spiritual azure, spotless, and its blade was pockmarked.

The lamp was remarkably simple, made from two old bronze plates—one on top, one on bottom—supported by three slender copper pillars in the middle.

Even the candle had burned down to its wick, as if a single gust of wind would extinguish it.

The figure remained motionless.

The hundred-zhang tall Specter in front of it was already trembling.

Its mouth emitted whimpers like low sobs. Though it had lost its intelligence, it now instinctively begged for mercy, terrified.

Its pleas still had no effect.

The anomaly had not yet ended!

Soon after day turned to night, not only did a sinister ghostly aura surge from beneath and behind the Specter, but the Ghost Realm, which seemed to have transformed into a black swamp, quickly expanded, beginning to stretch outwards.

Its speed was astonishing.

Before long, it threatened to reach Cao Erzhu's feet.

Within the Ghost Realm, accompanied by tearing sounds, ghostly hands and skeletal claws continuously emerged, propping themselves on the ground, pulling out broken bodies, skeletal remains, and specter forms.

Chittering, hissing, and guttural noises filled the air.

Suddenly, a hundred ghosts walked in the night.

Piercing shrieks rose and fell.

After all the ghost creatures appeared, they staggered forward as if visually impaired, without direction, tearing apart anything they encountered and destroying any stone in their path.

Some that collided even fought each other, their cries more agonizing than the last.

Cao Erzhu's hair stood on end.

Such an anomaly had suddenly appeared in the Ghost Buddha Realm. He thought, if only he'd known today was not a good day to go out, he would have just stayed at the blacksmith's shop. Why did he have to encounter such a mess?

Who are you, really? Even though Cao Erzhu tried to feign calm, he could hear the tremor of fear in his own voice. The aura of this figure felt even more terrifying than that of Emperor Wangze, whom he had seen before. Could it even rival the Ancestral God Tsui Yin?

He wanted to retreat. Yet, he dared not expose his back to such an unknown hostile presence, so he endured his fear and kept staring intently.

The Specter continued to tremble. It was like a mouse encountering a cat; the predator-prey suppression wasn't about the size difference, but the complete loss of any thought of resistance upon meeting.

The Saint Emperor's figure clearly paid no attention to Cao Erzhu. In fact, its eyelids hadn't twitched, and it didn't even seem to notice the wall-like Specter before it. It simply raised the lamp and its hand.

The Specter's wails intensified, its pleas for mercy growing stronger. The Saint Emperor's figure remained unperturbed by external forces. The ancient lamp in its hand moved from below its abdomen, to its chest, to shoulder height... finally coming to rest.

No! Amidst a wave of mournful cries, Cao Erzhu seemed to hear the voice of the corpse-person again. Simultaneously, a wistful voice echoed from an unknown source: "Hunting ghosts with a lamp, this night is long."

As soon as the words fell, the hundreds of zhang tall corpse-specter evaporated, burning until only a wisp of green smoke remained. Within the vast Ghost Realm, countless ghost creatures that had struggled out from beneath the earth also burned away into green smoke. In the distant reaches, the ghost creatures that originally roamed the Ghost Buddha Realm were instantly annihilated.

Tens of thousands of wisps of green smoke ascended slowly into the sky. The flame of the ancient lamp in the Saint Emperor's figure's hand glowed slightly brighter. The endless green smoke, as if summoned, rushed towards the tiny light of the candle like moths to a flame.

The flickering candlelight in Cao Erzhu's vision brightened ever so slightly. He didn't feel any warmth; on the contrary, a chill ran down his spine.

A Saint Emperor! He must be a Saint Emperor, but where did he come from? Wasn't the Celestial Ladder melted by Senior Wuxiu? Besides the Saint Palace, where else on the Saint God Continent could there be a Saint Emperor?

Cao Erzhu's mind raced. At the same time, the confusion he had felt when facing the corpse-person earlier was instantly answered. Perhaps the corpse-person's Saint Power wasn't unowned power, but originated from this person. And when the corpse exploded, was that Ancestral Origin Power also his? The corpse-person originally had no intelligence. Was it only because of this person's influence that it gained that combat awareness, extreme reactions, and even became polite in speech and manner? To be precise, it was politeness mixed with offensiveness. After all, a truly polite corpse wouldn't immediately try to stab someone with a sword.

Cao Erzhu swallowed hard again.

After the lamp extinguished the ten thousand ghosts, the Saint Emperor's figure gradually faded, as if about to depart. Reason told Cao Erzhu that he couldn't defeat a Saint Emperor, and that it was absolutely foolish to act rashly now, as it would only harm himself. But Little Shou and Uncle Bazun An erected the ancient war god platform, seemingly to await a battle. Could this be the person they're waiting for? Since there's a clue, it would be fine if I hadn't seen it, but now that I have, how can I miss this opportunity?

With these thoughts, and an unknown surge of courage, Cao Erzhu's blood boiled, and he shouted into the air: "Hey! Where are you going?"

The moment the words left his mouth, Erzhu regretted it. How could the Saint Emperor's figure be so receptive to advice? It instantly solidified back into a physical form, turning its head slightly to look at him.

Hmm? Cao Erzhu had learned a lot from Little Shou recently. He instantly uttered a surprised sound and looked at a thumb-sized pebble on the ground. The pebble was nothing special; it was just a pebble. Cao Erzhu pointed at the stone and called out softly again, "Hey, where are you going? Where are you rolling off to... huh?"

From a distance, a detached voice replied: "Son of Cao Yihan."

Instantly, Cao Erzhu was furious. He raised his eyes and roared, "My name is Cao Erzhu! Not 'son of so-and-so'!"

The Saint Emperor's figure retracted all its oppressive aura, transforming into an ordinary-looking middle-aged man. Cao Erzhu stared at him, still unable to discern his face.

"One sword." The man's tone was so plain, yet so provocative, as if in this vast world, there was nothing his single sword couldn't cut down.

Cao Erzhu burst out laughing. After laughing, he settled his qi in his dantian and widened his tiger-like eyes. "Come on! If I take one step back, I'm not Cao Erzhu!"

The white-robed figure held the lamp motionless. If the enemy didn't move, Cao Erzhu didn't move. The white-robed figure continued to wait with the lamp. He didn't move, and Cao Erzhu still didn't move. The white-robed figure silently shook its head. The ancient lamp in its hand gently swayed, and the candlelight extinguished for a breath before instantly relighting.

A massive rift tore open in the heavens. It was as if a gate to hell had opened, and from within emerged a… no, it wasn't even a sword. It was just a beam of light! A faint azure sword-light, about a foot long! But when this sword-light appeared, the vast Ghost Realm spanning thousands of miles collapsed, and the night was cleaved back into day.

The sword-light first appeared in the sky. When it reappeared, it was already right before his face.

This speed... How can it be so fast! Cao Erzhu's foot was already lifted, instinctively preparing to retreat. He also realized that the figure had wanted him to make the first move. Could he retreat? He had boasted earlier. Either he resisted head-on, or he would have to change his name... to Cao Sanzhu? Impossible! That name is utterly horrendous!

Without hesitation, Cao Erzhu immediately unleashed his ultimate technique, pouring out all the power of Divine Punishment and Tribulation he had cultivated throughout his life, and roared: "Divine Firmament Sovereign!"

Thunder roared. Behind Erzhu, a hundreds-of-zhang tall lightning giant rose, wearing blue lightning armor, draped in a purple electric cloak, holding a shield in one hand and an axe in the other. The giant crushed the wine barrel beneath its foot, sending thunderous plasma splashing everywhere. Its shield and axe crossed, crackling with lightning, positioned in front of Cao Erzhu, blocking the sword-light.

A shrill clang pierced the ears as the faint azure sword-light struck. Cao Erzhu's eyes bulged, his cheeks puffed out, and his chest expanded like a balloon, as he stubbornly resisted without letting out a breath.

Resisting head-on! Would it work?

In one breath, *crack*, the axe and shield were sliced through... In two breaths, *tear*, the giant was beheaded... In three breaths, *boom*, the Divine Firmament Sovereign exploded into fireworks!

Impossible! Cao Erzhu was finally terrified, and panic uncontrollably spread across his face. He had been cultivating for twenty-seven years. Since his debut, he had fought Half-Saints, confronted Saint Emperors, and faced Ancestral Gods. Although his journey had been difficult, he had always escaped danger. The Saint Emperor in Cao Erzhu's mind was Rao Wangze. What was Emperor Wangze's level? He was at a level where he could be possessed by Tsui Yin even while sitting still. Even standing to fight, he was only on par with the Dao Hall Master. What was the Dao Hall Master? The Dao Hall Master was merely a Half-Saint, not even one of the combat-oriented Ten Revered Seats. Saint Emperors were limited. Even their true forms, or when their bodies were manipulated by the will of an Ancestral God, could only display so much power!

But... the person before him now was not even the Saint Emperor's true form, nor an avatar of the Saint Emperor's will; it was just an ordinary figure. The sword it unleashed carried no realm power; it wasn't some Sword of Fengdu, but merely an incredibly simple soul sword-light.

Cao Erzhu's dao heart rippled. As the sword-light reflected on his face, he fell into a trance: Twenty years of Divine Punishment and Tribulation can't compare to such an unadorned sword-strike?

Whoosh! A blacksmith's hammer swung high. Little Erzhu's face turned pale, and he was thrown back three and a half steps by the strong wind. His father didn't bring the hammer down, but held it suspended in mid-air, looking at him with a chuckle. "This, and you're already scared?"

Little Erzhu pouted, walked back to the front, and puffed out his chest, saying defiantly: "No, I'm not!"

His father laughed softly and shook his head. His father truly was his father, unlike anyone else he met later. He wasn't mocking him, nor was he teaching him some grand dao. He simply stated a fact: "This hammer strike of mine holds thirty years of cultivation. You should be afraid."

The heavy hammer fell, and a massive bang erupted. What splashed out wasn't just sparks, but sword-light!

I... The world seemed to have hit a pause button. Cao Erzhu understood something. If he took one step back at this moment, he might still have a chance to survive the sword. But Little Erzhu would retreat; Cao Erzhu would not. He could die standing, but he wouldn't back down and become Sanzhu.

Slice! As the sword-light cut through him, his consciousness hummed and shifted, transporting him back to his childhood days learning to wield a hammer at the blacksmith's shop.

"Dad, among the Ten Revered Seats, you're ranked first. Does that mean none of them can defeat you?"

"No."

"Huh? No? Then who is first?"

"That depends on what we're discussing."

"Hmm, what else is there to discuss?"

"In terms of unorthodox methods, I'm first. In terms of brute strength, I'm at the top. As for combat... there's really no superior."

"Hmm, what about offense then? The attack power of this one hammer strike!"

"In terms of offense, no one can surpass ancient sword cultivators. The most gifted ancient sword cultivators have no upper limit to their attack power."

"Uncle Bazun An is that strong?"

"Not just Bazun An, and not just the Ten Revered Seats. Gou Hua and You Mei are also second to none. It just depends on who can take that next step first."

"Which step?"

"That step."

Little Erzhu still wanted to ask, especially since he hadn't heard his father mention the strongest, Kui Leihan, throughout their conversation. His father was already shaking his head, unwilling to say more. His father's hammer struck again. The memory shattered, and everything returned to reality.

Clang! The mighty sound echoed from dream to reality, from Qingyuan Mountain to Guizhe Saint Mountain. Cao Erzhu didn't retreat. He had already closed his eyes, expecting death. He never imagined that the heavy hammer sound he heard in his mind wasn't an illusion, but came from...

Dad? He opened his eyes. The sword-light had vanished? Under the sound of that heavy hammer, it seemed to have been shaken into dust?

Cao Erzhu looked around, his spiritual sense sweeping underground—his father wasn't even nearby! Was it an illusion? Or did Dad, from far away on Qingyuan Mountain, unleash just one hammer strike to shatter a Saint Emperor's sword?

Cao Erzhu's pupils constricted in shock. No matter which conjecture, he found it absurd. Six months ago, he felt there were always people stronger and realms beyond. For the past six months, he had believed that with him and Shou, there were no other talents to be amazed by in the world. Six months later, he realized again that in the vast ocean, he was but a single grain. How could the difference between heaven and earth, cloud and mud, be so vast in the Spirit Refining Realm?

The Saint Emperor's figure chuckled softly. It had spoken of one sword, and it was indeed only one sword, regardless of who blocked it.

Cao Erzhu's face was ashen, his feet unmoving. Regardless, he had won this round, yet felt no sense of victory, only the experience of utter defeat.

He looked over. The Saint Emperor's figure looked back.

Cao Erzhu took a deep breath, cupped his fists respectfully, and asked, "May I ask for your esteemed name, Senior?"

The Saint Emperor's figure shook its head faintly, paying no heed. Its form gradually faded, leaving behind a clear, lingering message: "Tell Bazun An to bathe, change clothes, burn incense, and rest... Hua will arrive in a few days."

"Where is Lord Li?" In the Apricot Realm's Crystal Palace, Cao Erzhu grabbed anyone he could find and asked. The guard he seized stared at the deep, bone-visible sword mark on the large man's forehead, then stammered, shook his head, and respectfully replied: "Master Erzhu, this humble one does not know. Lord Li comes and goes like a shadow; perhaps only Master Shou knows his whereabouts."

"Where is Master Shou?"

"Master Erzhu, this humble one does not know. Master Shou is even more unpredictable; his whereabouts should only be known by Lord Li."

Cao Erzhu paused. He decided to release the guard, who was clearly an admirer of Shou. This "Shou-sickness" in the Apricot Realm was getting worse.

He was about to go ask Senior Longxing and report the recent events to Little Shou when a voice called out from behind him: "Master Erzhu, what are you looking for Master Shou for?"

Cao Erzhu turned, his urgency slightly eased. He cupped his fists towards the Half-Saint, acknowledging him as "Senior Zangren."

Half-Saint Zangren chuckled. He had merely pledged his allegiance earlier; he hardly deserved to be called "Senior." As for himself now, though a Half-Saint, he only held a subordinate position in Zhiwuzhu. Either you or your father could take out a Half-Saint Zangren with one punch. Fine.

Zangren said, "Master Erzhu, I was just drinking with Lord Zhu earlier, and I heard him say that Master Shou and Lord Li have left the Apricot Realm."

Little Shou left the Apricot Realm—to find Miss Zhiwen? No, that's not right. If so, he definitely wouldn't have taken Lord Li with him. And since he took this person, it wouldn't be to find Uncle Bazun An for cultivation, nor would it be to visit his father at the blacksmith's shop for spiritual practice. For some reason, his father really disliked Lord Li.

"What did they go to do?" Cao Erzhu pondered fruitlessly and could only ask. He remembered that for the past six months, Little Shou had barely shown his face on the Saint God Continent, apart from cultivating. Had he finally opened up? Did he want to bask in the adoration of thousands again?

Zangren shook his head vaguely. They said they were going to train, practical experience after half a year of cultivation, but he wasn't really clear.

Little Shou still needed experience? Cao Erzhu's mouth hung open, unable to utter a single word. The thought that he had merely had a dream, then decided to go out for a stroll, only to encounter something even more disheartening, weighed on him. He sighed deeply and turned to leave the Crystal Palace.

Zangren, thinking about the sword mark, watched him go: "Where are you going, Master Erzhu?"

Cao Erzhu didn't turn back, merely waved his hand and said: "Going home to practice my hammer!"