Chapter 1843: Invincible

The snow in Fusang was light, falling far less rapidly than in Yujing.

The onlookers around the tavern had anticipated a magnificent holy war.

Unexpectedly, the Four Sages of Cheng Caizhi, after a few shouts, simultaneously froze in mid-air.

Those unaware might have thought these Four Sages had suddenly lost their desire to fight.

Those with some insight immediately turned their gaze to Bazun An, noticing that he had, at some point, placed his sack on the ground, and his hands were tucked into his sleeves.

"Everyone, help me count to ten," he suddenly tilted his head, looking at the spectators outside the arena, a smile beaming.

"Bazun An has already drawn his sword..."

Someone looked at him, fear rising in their heart.

Undoubtedly, the first to fall to the "Eighth Sword Immortal's" illusionary sword art were the Four Sages.

Whether this person's identity was genuine remained debatable.

But his silent first strike, capable of controlling the Four Sages, was somewhat too astonishing.

"At the very least, he must be at the level of an elder sword immortal to achieve this, right?"

While contemplating and pondering the intent of this Bazun An with the sack, the busybodies outside the arena began to help count:

"Ten!"

Though unsure of his intention, it felt as if he wasn't truly going to take on all Four Sages and slay them entirely, was he?

"Nine!"

The first sound appeared, and then others spoke.

"Eight!"

Soon, the enthusiasm of the onlookers was ignited, and they spoke one after another.

"Seven..."

Everyone counted quickly.

The speed at which the Fusang snow fell seemed to accelerate with it.

When the count reached "Five," Bazun An took a step forward, his eyes shooting out sword intent.

With a thunderous roar, everyone's ears seemed to be struck by lightning, and in a daze, they saw a boundless wilderness where the Ten Divine Seats gathered in one place.

"This is..."

Dan Sheng Lu Shiyu's pupils constricted.

Yin Gui Zong Li You's beautiful eyes widened too.

In the scene, several great "evil ghosts" surrounded him, and the Eighth Sword Immortal in white also stepped out, facing...

"Cheng Sheng? Cheng Caizhi?"

"No, it's Dai Xiu, Ban Sheng Dai Xiu!"

"I saw Fairy Luo, no, is it Ban Sheng Qing Gui?"

The figures opposite him, four illusions, all trembled like sieves, seemingly enduring an indescribable terror.

And that pressure clearly came from...

"Snow?"

Someone looked up at the sky.

Present in Fusang, with intent in the wilderness.

Heavy snow fell all over the sky, accompanied by the sound of long, high-pitched chants, pressing down on people, making it hard to breathe:

"In August, I seek flying snow, but my desires are in vain."

"In dreams, flowers intoxicate the moon, can pear branches be broken?"

The sound ceased.

Snow fell like a deluge, rustling down.

Inside and outside the city, the ground buzzed and trembled.

Bazun An waved his sleeves, and twin needles flew out from them. At that moment, sword chants resonated, and everywhere, pear trees several zhang high rose up, seemingly illusory yet real, forming a beautiful, covering forest.

"Three!"

The enthusiasm of the onlookers' countdown reached its peak.

As the final moments approached, heavy snow pressed down on the pear branches, ten thousand trees bloomed like flowers, and the twin sleeve-needles flew across the sky, cutting through the air, stirring up a flurry of white.

"Crack!"

The first pear branch was broken by the heavy snow.

This seemed to trigger a chain reaction, and led by the twin needles, the pear orchards throughout the city and the pear trees on the mountains crackled.

The sound of snapping branches rose and fell, like ten thousand swords breaking free from their shackles, each snowflake shooting out brilliant sword energy, soaring into the sky with a clang.

"Ah—"

Among the Four Sages, the first to succumb was Ban Sheng Qing Gui, originally from the Southern Region.

He was clearly hovering high in the sky over Fusang, behind the other Three Sages, and had not yet encountered anything.

He was clearly just surrounded by the Ten Divine Seats in the desolate mountains and wilderness, and the twin sleeve-needles only stirred up the flying snow, seemingly not targeting him.

Yet, Ban Sheng Qing Gui seemed to have encountered something terrifying; blood-tears streamed from his eyes, and his pale face was contorted with a ferocious expression.

"No! Don't!"

"Mother, mother... don't kill, no—"

"Alan, no, no—"

He stretched out his hands, as if to grasp something, but was left with a face full of terror and helplessness.

He was as frantic as a madman, his holy power surging, exploding in all directions, leaving Fusang City battered and bruised.

But there was no fixed target of attack, only aimless, cathartic assaults.

He tried to salvage something.

After his outburst, in the predetermined past, he could do nothing.

"One..."

The counting sounds gradually became very low and weak.

The onlookers were horrified. What had Ban Sheng Qing Gui encountered that even a dignified Ban Sheng couldn't withstand, turning into such a state?

"His childhood?" Tie Dameng hesitated, looking at Dan Sheng Lu Shiyu, who shook his head without speaking.

Instead, Zhen Sheng Shang Feng Dao Ren spoke up: "Those who cultivate to Ban Sheng in the Southern Region always have a tumultuous journey. They are most vulnerable to the 'Heart Trial' stage... I remember Qing Gui had a difficult childhood, also when he was young, and even as an adult. It was when he was forty-two that he had an epiphany, starting from a Grandmaster, he blazed a trail, and finally became a Saint..."

Tie Dameng clicked his tongue, looking at the "Eighth Sword Immortal," and said with surprise and uncertainty: "This is striking at the heart..."

Everyone has a past that they cannot bear to look back on.

In this person's hands, with the Ten Divine Seats, feared by all Saints in the world, as suppression, their inner fears were amplified, stirring up their unbearable past.

Every snowflake stirred up by the twin sleeve-needles must have been Ban Sheng Qing Gui's most painful past.

And now, he was reliving it!

"What a terrifying Myriad Sword Art..."

Gu Qingsan also cultivated the Myriad Sword Art, but he had never tried combining it with Illusionary Sword Art and Heart Sword Art like this.

What was the origin of this Bazun An?

The integration of various realms was as seamless as a spirit antelope hanging its horns; even if the true Eighth Sword Immortal came, it would be no more than this, right?

Snow fell with sound.

It was the sound of pear trees cracking.

Every snowflake that hit Dai Xiu in Fusang City was like cotton falling on a high mountain; the high mountain remained unmoved.

But when the snowflakes stirred by the twin sleeve-needles in the wilderness flew and pierced through, Dai Xiu's Ban Sheng defense was like paper.

He was actually riddled with holes and covered in wounds by the flying snowflakes.

"No—"

As the ten-count countdown in Fusang City ended, Dai Xiu could no longer suppress the trembling in his heart.

He tried hard to calm his past self.

But that heart tribulation, which he could suppress with various means during the Saint Tribulation, was now easily enticed out in this unguarded moment.

The first qi deviation caused by forcibly attaining enlightenment congenitally...

The uncontrollable self-restraint tendencies of a twenty-year-old who couldn't overcome the worldly love barrier...

The experience of nearly being possessed by an old Ban Sheng monster after mistakenly believing he had gained an opportunity at a Ban Sheng relic, leading to a thirteen-year confrontation...

Small, large.

Superficial, fatal.

As the snowflakes pierced his body, like sharp swords piercing his intent, various past events rushed forth!

In an instant, Dai Xiu was tortured into a green man, his entire face turning green to purple, sickeningly nauseous.

But he was not Ban Sheng Qing Gui.

His past was still acceptable, everything was still on the right track.

At least every time in the past, he successfully overcame the trials and, more importantly, conquered himself.

And this time...

"This time, too!"

His heart roared, and Dai Xiu regained himself.

He looked at the Ten Divine Seats in front of him, all of which were illusory—I can defeat them!

He looked at Bazun An in front of him, who was also not real—I will surely defeat him!

The powerful confidence of a Ban Sheng helped him break free from his predicament, on the verge of rebirth from the ashes. Dai Xiu grasped his Cheli Spear, slashed it down, and disintegrated the surrounding sword intent.

"Whoosh!"

Around Fusang, everyone was shocked.

The first!

Among the Four Sages, Dai Xiu was the first and only one who could suddenly move and break free from the shackles.

Dan Sheng Lu Shiyu showed surprise, while Yin Gui Zong Li You was even more surprised. Dai Xiu, completely unaware, focused only on the present.

"Yes, it's all fake!"

"These are merely the second world, just his petty tricks!"

The Ban Sheng rank was invoked, and holy power blossomed grandly.

Even though he was covered in blood, Dai Xiu went forward without hesitation, thrusting his spear straight at the fake Bazun An, whose aura seemed to have weakened slightly after that one move!

"Buzz..."

Just then, the surrounding scene shattered.

The Ten Divine Seats turned into dust and vanished.

Dai Xiu found himself back in Fusang City, his holy thoughts sweeping over the other Three Sages around him.

Ban Sheng Qing Gui screamed strangely, clutching his head and scrambling away, utterly disheveled, unaware of what he had experienced.

Ban Sheng Cheng Caizhi felt as if he had fallen into an ice cellar, his hands and feet trembling, his eyes unfocused, unaware of what he had experienced.

Ban Sheng Luo Hui's thighs were tightly pressed together, her lower lip pursed, her face flushed, also unaware of what she had experienced.

"They all couldn't break free, so why could I?"

"Or rather, was my escape, this one time, fake?"

His thoughts swayed like a drifting boat. When this thought flashed, his confidence drained, and Dai Xiu suddenly realized something was amiss.

As expected, the predicament of the Ten Divine Seats once again swept over him like a nightmare.

Dai Xiu stopped in his tracks again.

What he saw was Bazun An moving forward again after one sword strike.

With the same calm and leisurely pace, he made the choice for himself, pointing a finger, and a sword light came from the east.

At that moment, the flying snow vanished, and between heaven and earth, golden light shone brightly, accompanied by an ethereal chant:

"There is a great Buddha hidden in the world..."

"Why am I here?"

The pressure was too great!

Truly too great!

This "one poem, one sword, one sword, one song"—if one hadn't personally fought it, hadn't participated in the Ten Divine Seats battle, only heard legends, perhaps it could be accepted.

Dai Xiu was not!

When the chanting sounded again, in an instant, his mind replayed his brief and inglorious life.

Compared to the renown of the Eighth Sword Immortal, he was not even dust.

Dai Xiu suddenly realized that he was not the protagonist of this battle; Cheng Caizhi was!

He was merely invited, merely a minor test. Why should he fight for Cheng Caizhi to this extent, actually wanting to test the sharpness of the Eighth Sword Immortal—whether he was or not.

"I'm insane!"

Once the thought of retreat arose, it was like a dam breaking, uncontrollable.

Dai Xiu even gave up the desire to fight, put away his Cheli Spear, offered a drop of holy blood, and chose without hesitation...

"Blood Escape!"

"Blood Escape: Retreat to Heaven's Path!"

"Blood Escape: Snow Falling Back!"

"Forbidden Art: Nine Ghosts Moving Gods!"

Cheng Caizhi was startled awake from his nightmare by several consecutive sounds.

His face was dazed, and his holy sense swept around, only to see the Three Sages in front and behind him, each having gone through something unknown, their faces ashen.

One by one, either spitting essence blood or offering holy blood, Ban Sheng Qing Gui even abandoned his physical body...

They were actually fleeing!

"Three of you!?"

Cheng Caizhi's eyes nearly popped out.

He had just endured torment in the pear orchard, had just broken free, and was thinking of uniting with the Three Sages to attack back.

Who would have thought that these Three Sages were terrified, and facing a mere fake Bazun An, they actually chose to retreat.

If you retreat, leaving me alone, how am I supposed to fight?

That's Bazun An!

No, that's not Bazun An...

No, if he isn't Bazun An, how could he scare these Three Sages to such a degree...

"Buzz!"

Fusang vanished, and the dream returned.

Cheng Caizhi once again returned to that desolate mountain wilderness, but this time he was not an outside observer.

He was not beside that scholar.

He was the focus of all attention, bearing all the pressure that the Four Sages should have shared, and alone, he faced the Eighth Sword Immortal of "one poem, one sword, one sword, one song"!

"There is a great Buddha hidden in the world, and a great Buddha stands in my heart."

"One sword comes from the Eastern Heaven, and all goes to the Western Heaven."

As the dazzling Buddha light shone, the Eighth Sword Immortal had already made his choice, pointing a finger and summoning... Qingju!

Heaven is one zhang eight chi high, Bazun An. Who dares to face half a Qingju?

This time, what he faced was not just half, but the Eighth Sword Immortal at his peak, the entire Qingju!

"Great Buddha... Slash!"

When that sword light struck, Cheng Caizhi's heart trembled.

He wanted to stand up, but his legs were weak;

He tried to resist, but his whole body was powerless.

The Great Buddha in his heart was not just one—the Ten Divine Seats could be like great mountains, more than half of the Saints in the Five Regions could not defeat them, let alone the various remarks from Saint Emperors and Ancestral Gods that had frequently appeared in recent months.

He watched helplessly as the sword light infinitely magnified, he himself infinitely shrunk, Bazun An infinitely magnified, he himself infinitely shrunk, the world infinitely magnified, and he himself continued to infinitely shrink...

He raised his hands high in front of his face, trying to shield himself from the dazzling golden light, like a child facing the collapse of the sky, the only resistance he could make was no resistance at all.

"No—"

Fusang City.

The pear trees vanished.

Bazun An retracted his twin needles into his sleeves, joined two fingers, and lightly slashed through the air.

"Great Buddha Slash?!"

Lu Shiyu had seen this signature move of Bazun An!

Li You had initially been certain that this person was not Bazun An, but this time, her heart wavered again.

Gou Wuyue stared at this sword, slightly lost in thought...

What the people in the tavern were looking at, however, was not the reactions of the Saints, but the only Ban Sheng still standing in the center of the battlefield, apart from the fleeing ones!

Ban Sheng, Cheng Caizhi!

But he was not a brave man.

He seemed unable to escape, his eyes tightly shut. After the golden light illuminated Fusang, ten thousand great mountains appeared on his back.

Even though the mountains were mere illusions, they still pressed Cheng Caizhi to the ground.

"Swish!"

The Great Buddha Slash, sword light flashed.

The ten thousand great mountains on Cheng Caizhi's back all collapsed.

He himself was instantly emptied, utterly annihilated. After a violent tremor, his protective spirit beads shattered with crackling sounds, and he fell to the ground with a thud.

"Dead?"

The tavern spectators jumped up in fright.

One sword, slaying a Saint?

"No, not dead yet, just..."

Cheng Caizhi was indeed still alive, but he was taking in more breath than he was expelling, lying on the ground completely unable to get up, eventually even foaming at the mouth.

This was more agonizing than death!

A dignified Ban Sheng, by one sword, reduced to lying on the ground, spitting foam?

"He, he must be the Eighth Sword Immortal..."

The Great Buddha Slash was the Eighth Sword Immortal's signature move, a famous technique from the Battle of the Ten Divine Seats, an unrepeatable glory.

Everyone looked at Bazun An on the other side.

That slovenly, unkempt fellow's expression was as indifferent as if he had crushed an ant, gracefully bending down to pick up his tattered sack again.

He looked at the crowd, a barely perceptible curve of his lips, which he quickly suppressed.

He looked back at Cheng Caizhi, who was like an old dog spitting foam, seemingly at his last gasp. He stared for a long time, then let out a laugh, and began to speak:

"My sword slays the gods and Buddhas in your heart. May you... uh."

He suddenly seemed to choke on his own saliva, his gaze drifting to the other side, then somewhat evasive.

Someone noticed and followed his gaze.

They saw Gou Wuyue's face as black as charcoal, so gloomy that it seemed to be dripping ink.

"Cough."

Bazun An cleared his throat, forced a smile that didn't reach his eyes, slowly walked past Cheng Caizhi, put one hand behind his back, and calmly changed his words:

"To fully fathom my name, seven parts of effort are still needed."

"Gentlemen, let's strive together."