Chapter 1867: Half Step

He is not Xiao Kongtong!

He is Ba Zun’an!

Hua Changdeng suddenly awoke. Xiao Kongtong's sword qi was not merely a forced breakthrough to the third realm, but rather an invitation to Ba Zun’an.

"Similar to Xiang Yaoyao's great summoning technique..."

As this thought shifted, the aura emanating from the opposite side also changed.

In truth, Ba Zun’an had not concealed himself at all, but human mental inertia made it difficult to grasp the change immediately. These ten sections of sword qi, seemingly emitted by Xiao Kongtong, felt different in essence. The sword concept, while appearing to be something Xiao Kongtong also possessed, was actually on a much higher level.

"He appeared so clearly, and yet I didn't recognize him at first glance..."

A flash of cold light burst forth, as if Lingyu Mountain’s wind and snow were being swept away. Ba Zun’an joined his fingers, almost exhausting the very limit of the dot-strike technique within three thousand sword dao, focusing absolute power onto his fingertips to break through a surface with a single point. And that surface was Hua Changdeng!

"Excellent!"

Hua Changdeng was not surprised, but delighted. As the cold light of the sword qi approached his face, his upper body tilted slightly backward. Following this motion, the Hunting Ghost sword at his waist was drawn, held steadily before him.

*Clang!*

A resonant sword cry echoed through the high mountain, stirring the hearts of all who heard it. In the nick of time, that ethereal blue-green sword light shone, momentarily transforming the night into day, allowing the spectators to see even more clearly.

The Hunting Ghost sword had two sides. One side reflected the piercing sharpness of the ten-section sword qi. It was also like a demon-reflecting mirror, making everyone realize that the one who could unleash such an extraordinary strike could never be a weakened Xiao Kongtong...

"The Eighth Sword Immortal has arrived!"

Someone shouted, and Lingyu Mountain erupted in a clamor. The crowd awoke as if from a dream, blood rushing to their heads, making them boil with excitement.

On the other side of Hunting Ghost, Hua Changdeng responded calmly. The faint blue glow emanating from the sword’s blade seemed to cast a chilling, ethereal light over his face, making his stern gaze even more terrifying:

"By my command: Hundred Ghost Altar!"

A few brief words, like a divine decree. At his command, the faint light of the ten-section sword qi and Hunting Ghost, already mere inches apart, miraculously transformed from a mustard seed into a vast world.

Countless worlds seemed to be forcefully inserted between them. Layer upon layer of Fengdu anomalies and scenes of purgatory bloomed like ephemera in this intervening space—ice and fire, tongue-pulling, steaming cages, iron trees... the number of tormented souls was countless.

Such scenes were too horrific to examine closely; the internal spectacle was unbearable. Finally, at the core, a six-sided altar constructed high from skulls emerged, with resentful, wailing souls trapped in its crevices.

The Hundred Ghost Altar appeared! From small to immense, it instantly rose to heaven-reaching heights! It stood between Hunting Ghost and the piercing edge of the ten-section sword qi, forming an absolute defense, capable of blocking any attack in the world.

"It's suspended..."

The Eighth Sword Immortal was powerful, but he was using Xiao Kongtong's body. Hua Changdeng, however, was present in his true form. What he used now was no longer the spiritual clone or treasure incarnation that had been struck down by Shou Ye near the Zhongyuanjie Stele.

The items he wielded this time were all genuine supreme treasures of Fengdu! No matter how fierce the ten-section sword qi, could it breach the defense of this Hundred Ghost Altar, which soared above the clouds and was more formidable than a bronze wall and iron bastion? No matter how strong the sword concept, could it overcome the eighteen layers of varied hells, then break through Fengdu, reach Hua Changdeng's true self, and wound his foundation?

"Absolutely impossible!"

Many ancient sword cultivators on Lingyu Mountain clenched their fists. Compared to the Ghost Sword Immortal's lesser-known reputation, the name of the Eighth Sword Immortal of the Eastern Domain was far more renowned. Moreover, while the Holy Servant was "wicked," he was also seeking freedom for those in high positions. And setting everything else aside, Ba Zun’an's personal charisma alone captivated the world. In this battle, at least seventy percent of Lingyu Mountain sided with the Holy Servant. And if one were to disregard affiliations, approximately ninety-nine percent of the people wished to see Ba Zun’an win.

However...

The Holy Emperor stood before them! How difficult would victory be?

"Dot-strike... until it stops..."

The battlefield changed in an instant, everything happening in a flash. Not until this moment did the two words "until it stops" uttered by Xiao Kongtong finally quell the storm on Lingyu Mountain.

And precisely with this sound! Everyone witnessed that the fierce light of the one-fingered strike from Ba Zun’an, which had been advancing with devastating force, abruptly halted just before colliding with Hunting Ghost, before entering the Fengdu anomalies, and before hitting the unyielding Hundred Ghost Altar.

*Swish!*

The wind and snow on Lingyu Mountain also paused. This halt almost clutched the hearts of all spectators, making them hold their breath, their minds alert:

"Such a powerful and fierce strike, stopping just like that?"

"Can it really stop? If it were me, it would explode immediately upon stopping!"

"Orderly weight, controlled rhythm, effortless mastery, consummate skill... Heavens! What level of control is this? Was it planned in advance, or was it spontaneous?"

If it was the former, it would be terrifying; saying that Ba Zun’an was more cunning than Dao Qiongcang would not be an exaggeration. If it was the latter, it would be even more terrifying; responding to attacks in the heat of battle sounds easy, but it demands immense foundational skills and combat awareness.

True skill is revealed in the subtleties. This single strike—younger generation ancient sword cultivators on Lingyu Mountain, such as Xiao Wanfeng and Gu Qing, could ponder it deeply for more than half a year.

"If it's about responding to attacks, with the Hundred Ghost Altar present, how does Ba Zun’an plan to counter it?"

This was the key! As this thought flashed through the spectators' minds, and even Hua Changdeng felt suspicion at the sudden halt, Ba Zun’an had already given a timely response.

Dot-strike: until it stops, truly meant what he said—it stopped. It trembled gently in front of Hunting Ghost, then with a "pop," it rippled outwards like water, spreading into the void. Effortless, pleasing to the eye.

*Whoosh!*

Everyone was moved by the sword concept's fluctuations that swept through the wind and snow without disturbing them in the slightest. In a fleeting instant, they seemed to be transported to another world. It was still Lingyu Mountain, but it had lost the night and the strange scenes of Fengdu. The faint light of dawn, warm and gentle, streamed through the clouds from the east, but for those accustomed to the night, it felt quite dazzling.

"Ah! It's swords!"

Someone exclaimed. The light, gently exploring, entering the eyes, penetrating the mind, and piercing the soul, actually revealed its true form: countless fragmented light swords. When light sprinkled the heavens, swords were endless. Countless light swords descended, like a rain of swords, crashing down and fiercely pinning Hua Changdeng, who was still defending against the ten-section sword qi.

"Ten Thousand Swords Technique! Is this the Ten Thousand Swords Technique, the Ten Thousand Swords Technique within Illusion Sword Technique?"

"If it's Illusion Sword Technique, should we defend or not?"

"If it's Ten Thousand Swords Technique and we don't defend, we'll be pierced, turned into porcupines!"

Hua Changdeng was not a hesitant or wavering spectator from the sidelines. He reacted with extreme speed. After turning his head, he pointed his fingers towards the dawn:

"By my command: Fengdu opens, this world falls into night!"

With a resounding boom, a gigantic gate to Fengdu unfolded again in the void. The double gates swung open, absorbing the endless sword light. When they finally closed, they took the dawn with them, restoring night to the eastern side of Lingyu Mountain.

He stabilized! The spectators' fists tightened again, unsure whether it was from excitement or tension. The battle of immortals was calm, but the crowds surrounding the mountain were boiling with anticipation.

"There's more!"

Someone suddenly turned to the west, pointing to the distant high sky. Night in the east and lingering sunset in the west – the Ghost Buddha Realm was vast indeed. Under Ba Zun’an's infiltration, it seemed Hua Changdeng could not maintain Fengdu's influence over the entire region. He protected the east, but unexpectedly, the night in the west was also breached. The setting sun slanted down, filling the sky with a drunken red.

"Light!"

"Still light!"

The light of the setting sun streamed down. This time, it wasn't dazzling, but it was heart-piercing. The light struck faces, reflected in hearts, vaguely outlining the form of an angel, yet not holy. Instead, it was a sunset angel, wielding a fierce sword, with twelve blood-red wings that seemed to drip blood.

"Ten Thousand Swords Technique!"

The same Ten Thousand Swords Technique, but this time it followed the script, performing the most standard second realm of Ten Thousand Swords Technique: the Wrath of the Great Red God.

"Twelve wings..."

Gu Qing of the Sword Tomb of Buried Swords murmured in a lost voice. How terrifying was this power! He also specialized in the Ten Thousand Swords Technique, so he knew better than outsiders how much mental effort and qi it took to condense even one wing in the second realm of this technique. Not to mention, some people could condense one wing but couldn't even stabilize its power, let alone unleash an attack.

But in the sky... but Ba Zun’an, a mere foot above the heavens... In an instant, he had constructed a twelve-winged sunset angel, pushing the Ten Thousand Swords Technique to the extreme of its second realm.

"How long has it been since I've seen such a grand spectacle?"

Feng Tingchen took a deep breath, but did not compare himself to Ba Zun’an, which reduced some of his troubles. He was old. He gritted his teeth; with effort and some qi and blood, he could achieve this too. But he knew that he specialized in the Ten Thousand Swords Technique, while for Ba Zun’an, it was merely one of many "areas of expertise."

*Boom, boom, boom, boom...*

The sunset angel pressed its hands downward, forcing the swords, and its twelve wings curled slightly. The void solidified, and then a storm swept through. Terrifying blood swords shot from outside the world towards Lingyu Mountain, like a swarm of locusts, obscuring the sky and sun, unstoppable.

"By my command: Hundred Ghosts..."

Hua Changdeng's first reaction was to summon the Hundred Ghost Altar; this would easily defend against Ba Zun’an's sword. But he suddenly woke up again. Ba Zun’an's specialty was Illusion Sword Technique. What if even the Wrath of the Great Red God was merely a feint? The sword was here, but the intent was not. The only thought was whether he wanted him to actively withdraw the Hundred Ghost Altar's defense in front of the ten-section sword qi?

"A fleeting illusion, nothing more."

Hua Changdeng scoffed and completely relaxed. Of course, he could unleash the Three Swords of the Ghost Sword; then, let alone the Wrath of the Great Red God in its second realm, with just Ba Zun’an's second-generation Divine Sense, he wouldn't even be able to write the word "win." He would need to reach the third realm just to barely contend with him! But the current situation was... the opponent merely pointed at him casually, yet forced out the Three Swords of the Ghost Sword. Wouldn't that be a huge joke if it got out?

Hua Changdeng, in a grand manner, faced the sunset angel, receiving the sword with his body, without defense. With a booming sound, the sword light tore his clothes, pierced his skin, passed through his body, leaving a trail of blood. Stabbed by countless swords, Hua Changdeng was shot into a bloody mess. In the end, only a skeletal frame remained standing, without a single speck of flesh attached to the bones.

"Dead... dead?"

Such a grand entrance, such an easy demise—this was too much like child's play. After the spectators' vision blurred, the world cracked with a sound, like a shattered mirror...

Hua Changdeng was dead?

Hua Changdeng was clearly still standing in place! On Lingyu Mountain, the Ghost Sword Immortal stood straight as a sword, Hunting Ghost still suspended before him, glowing with a chilling blue-green light that made people feel bone-chillingly cold.

"It really was Illusion Sword Technique! Sword Immortal Hua gambled correctly!"

"No, you can't say 'gambled.' If you don't cultivate your will, even the Wrath of the Great Red God under Illusion Sword Technique can kill your consciousness."

"The Ghost Sword Immortal's complete lack of defense, meeting the sword with his body, I can only say... powerful!"

Hua Changdeng took a sword strike and was perfectly fine. From this sword, he had already seen through Ba Zun’an's realm, and couldn't help but chuckle softly:

"Thirty years unseen, your Illusion Sword Technique remains at this level. I think perhaps I took this battle too seriously..."

Before his words settled, another anomaly appeared. After Lingyu Mountain returned from the Illusion Sword Technique to its true form, a building had appeared at some unknown point. Everyone could see it!

The wooden, three-story pavilion carried the ancient, weathered气息 of time. A window was open on the first floor, and a person leaned by the window.

"The Eighth Sword Immortal!"

Someone recognized the profile and shrieked. Ba Zun’an, standing by the window, was no longer as young as he once was; time had carved its marks upon his face. His gaze extended out the window, filled with a profound melancholy.

"Snow..."

He murmured softly, extending his hand out the window. The snowflakes falling on Lingyu Mountain gently landed on his palm, neither dissipating nor melting, as if time stood still.

"So quiet..."

Amidst the great battle, everyone inexplicably felt a sense of peace. Following the gaze of the Eighth Sword Immortal, who leaned by the window and gazed into the distance, from this wooden pavilion bearing the plaque "Ancient and Modern Worry-Free Pavilion," the crowd saw that, at some unknown point, the wind on Lingyu Mountain had ceased.

The snow fell silently, landing on the ground with a soft *shhh* sound. And in the vast expanse of white, suddenly, not far away, a vibrant, nameless red flower bloomed, defying the bitter cold.

The flower was red and brilliant. At that moment, everyone's attention was captivated. Consequently, the expanse of white snow on Lingyu Mountain became utterly unimportant, and the green hues of the Lingyu and Fusang trees on the mountain also faded, becoming insignificant.

Quiet, and beautiful. This beauty, however, was shattered by a sudden, jarring sound.

Hua Changdeng sneered, "Many years unseen, your Illusion Sword Technique hasn't improved, but your knack for theatrics hasn't fallen behind..."

Before his words settled, Ba Zun’an in the pavilion suddenly turned his head, as if disturbed. His eyes blazed with a murderous glint, reflecting blood-red flowers, and his sword concept shifted from silver-white to crimson.

*Sizzle!* Everyone's hair stood on end. Even Hua Changdeng realized something was amiss: everything before was just embellishment; was this the true power of Ba Zun’an's next sword strike?

*Rumble...*

A storm outside the pavilion rose high.

*Hiss...*

Red flowers bloomed all over the mountain.

Suddenly, a faint singing voice seemed to descend from the night sky, its lingering melody profound and meaningful:

"Snow falls, wind ceases, flowers bloom, plants lighten."

"At third watch, dogs bark; at midnight, a malevolent star shines."

Who was speaking?! The spectators felt an overwhelming pressure, almost suffocating them.

"Up there, it's up there!"

Someone struggled to lift their head against the pressure, seeing that the night sky had been torn open by starlight at some point, revealing a brilliant, blood-red sword concept. Hua Changdeng also looked up, gazing into the azure sky. And there, within that speck of starlight, another Ba Zun’an reappeared!

Unlike the forlorn Ba Zun’an within the Ancient and Modern Worry-Free Pavilion, who showed signs of aging, this one was dressed in white, pure as snow, uninhibited and unrestrained. He was clearly still the youth he once was, still the Eighth Sword Immortal!

The young Ba Zun’an walked step by step, singing, dashing like a star. He pointed his fingers together and aimed them at the ground, accompanied by a long laugh:

"Hua Changdeng, this strike of mine began thirty years ago and ends thirty years later. Be prepared."

Clearly, this was no longer "dot-strike: until it stops," but "dot-strike: ceaseless."

A single finger, piercing through. The brilliant blood-red instantly tore through the boundless night, shattered the endless void, and transformed into a sweeping torrent, encircling a primary silver light in the center. Its target was still Hua Changdeng's glabella! The location of his Intent Ghost!

"It's not sword concept..."

Hua Changdeng's pores opened wide, realizing that for thirty years Ba Zun’an had not cultivated Illusion Sword Technique, but had instead developed something comparable to his own Ghost Sword in the realm of sword concept. What was it? Was it his younger self?

There was no time to think. Although Ba Zun’an's younger self had defeated him once before, that victory was unearned. This time, he still dared not be careless, nor did he dare to move the Hundred Ghost Altar for defense—it was possibly still Illusion Sword Technique!

Hua Changdeng, however, dared not truly take a strike from this young Ba Zun’an with his true body. He focused all his attention on this strange youth, this strange sword qi. When the sword light neared his face and he felt a renewed sense of unease, he fiercely unleashed his Intent Ghost from his glabella!

*Snap.*

There was no major disturbance. It was like a light slap to the face, a small sound echoing across the suddenly silent Lingyu Mountain. The spectators' vision blurred again, and then... no young Ba Zun’an, no blood-red malevolent star outside the pavilion, no thirty-year-old strike...

None of it!

Hua Changdeng had launched his Intent Ghost high, holding it above his head, facing empty air. But in the instant his mind was diverted, the Hundred Ghost Altar, which had lost control before him, was easily reduced to nothing by the opponent's swordless flow, like plants after a red flower blooms. Xiao Kongtong's ten-section sword qi, as if frozen in the river of time, after its ripple dispersed, one point of it effortlessly passed through the Fengdu anomalies, the scenes of purgatory, and the Hundred Ghost Altar.

Dot-strike: until it stops. That point of light did not unleash a terrifying sword concept. It simply struck the Hunting Ghost sword, suspended before Hua Changdeng, neither heavily nor lightly.

*Smack!*

The sound of a slap came from this. Hunting Ghost, receiving the impact, gave a *splat*, hitting its master Hua Changdeng's high nose bridge. It didn't cause much damage, but it left a red mark on his nose.

*Gulp!*

Everyone swallowed hard, gazing at the legendary Holy Emperor Ghost Sword Immortal. The Ghost Sword Immortal's nose tingled, and warm tears welled up in his eyes. His Intent Ghost was formidable above his head, its sword momentum terrifying, yet he seemed unable to bear the Intent Ghost's power, his body swaying slightly. As he almost fell, he instinctively took a step back with his right foot, regaining his balance.

"Heh heh."

Xiao Kongtong's lips curled into a smile as he stared at Hua Changdeng's foot. Holy Emperor Hua had taken half a step back.