Chapter 1933: Sword Bone

In the surging waters of the River Lethe, a massive "mountain" of flesh, deep blue to nearly black, emerged. Its peak was out of sight, overshadowing the sky and blotting out the sun.

The "mountain" had mottled skin, with each spot nearly half the size of the Middle Yuan Realm. Its folds were as deep as impassable abysses found beneath the ocean.

Attached to the mountain of flesh were enormous shells, algae, and corals—all deep-sea creatures. Compared to the colossal entity itself, they seemed utterly insignificant.

But for human beings, it was simply too vast!

It was so immense that Bazun An, standing before it, was no more than a drop in the ocean. Even with the power of a Saint Emperor, the power of a Void Ancestor, or an Ancestral God...

Against such a gargantuan size, one couldn't help but wonder if any amount of damage could truly be inflicted.

The "mountain" didn't seem to have emerged from the River Lethe.

If the River Lethe, which cut across the heavens and earth, served as a curtain, then the "mountain" appeared to have come from an alternate dimension.

As the melodious cry of a Kun reverberated, something rapidly burst forth, its full form still unseen. After a long time, only "less than half" of its head had emerged.

"Is that...a Kun Peng?!"

The cultivators of the Five Domains were almost simultaneously gripped by megalophobia. Crucially, many had caught a glimpse of this colossal creature half a year ago; it bore a seventy percent resemblance to the Kun Peng that had become a Saint Emperor in the Southern Netherworld and ascended the Heavenly Stairway.

"A Saint Emperor's pressure, the form of a Kun Peng..."

"Could this be the Kun Peng Divine Emissary, Elder Yu, Yu Kun Peng?!"

The massive phantom figure that had rushed into the Heavenly Stairway and straight to the Saint Emperor's Secret Realm half a year ago had left an indelible impression on many.

Since then, there had been no news.

Now, it reappeared as a Saint Emperor's Yin Soul puppet, summoned by Hua Zu's Soul Manipulation Guile Sword.

Doesn't this mean that after ascending the Heavenly Stairway, the Kun Peng Divine Emissary was slain by Hua Changdeng's sword, and even its spirit was captured and enslaved?

Half a year ago, Hua Changdeng was only a Saint Emperor...

A Saint Emperor fighting a Saint Emperor... Elder Yu's fate ended up so tragically?

A screech—

As the Five Domains reeled in shock, the soul-stirring cry of the Kun suddenly morphed into a piercing shriek, tearing through space in all directions and almost overturning the entire Ghost Buddha Realm.

"Ah!"

Immediately, people were thrown about, screaming incessantly.

Mountain torrents roared everywhere, and the earth trembled, shaking the heavens.

Bazun An, standing before the colossal Kun beast, had only initially hesitated. How could a mere human body withstand the frontal assault of a Saint Emperor Kun Peng's true form?

He retreated, then retreated again, still needing to stabilize his Grand Dream of a Thousand Autumns and unable to make any other moves. Under the tearing force of the changing sonic waves, his body was instantly blasted away.

In mid-air, his muscles tore, his eyeballs ruptured, and the surface of his Undying Sword Body instantly fractured into countless cracks.

"Pfft!"

Blood splattered everywhere.

Fragmented sword intent, mixed with chaotic energies of various kinds, diffused from his cracked skin.

Bazun An's condition instantly plummeted to rock bottom.

The Kun beast hadn't stopped its attack!

As it extended its entire colossal head from the curtain of the River Lethe, hard feathers rapidly emerged from its "mountain-like" skin, each one as massive as a great sword capable of slicing through land and severing oceans.

A fierce gale swept up, pushing straight into the clouds.

The River Lethe curtain shattered as the Peng spread its wings.

As its black-gold wings swept across the sky above the Ghost Buddha Realm, the mountains, rocks, trees, and people that had been rooted to the ground...

In an instant, they became insignificant, all flung into the air.

The world seemed to be in chaos, with only "disaster" remaining in view.

People scattered across the Ghost Buddha Realm were disoriented in mid-air, with severed limbs and mangled bodies visible everywhere, and blood staining the snowy river.

The screen displays of various factions were thrown into disarray, completely losing control. How could their masters continue to preach when they could barely protect themselves?

If one were to look from the highest point in the Southern Domain, they would see the Peng's dark shadow, shrouding the Central Domain, spreading its wings from above the Ghost Buddha Realm and soaring into the nine heavens.

The storm stirred by the Peng emerging from the sea was no less powerful than the world-destroying tornado of Qingfeng Tianjie, and it even directly affected the entire Central Domain.

"The Kun Peng..."

Bazun An naturally recognized who this figure was.

Although the current Kun Peng was a Yin Soul puppet under the Soul Manipulation Guile, its power was even greater.

It not only perfectly preserved the physical body and combat strength of a high-level Saint Emperor in its normal state, which neared that of a Void Ancestor when exerting power.

Evidently, it had also been refined by Hua Changdeng for a long time, imbued with immense and pure power of the God of Death, with which Hua Changdeng was spiritually connected, controlling it as easily as his own arm.

Hua Changdeng must have prepared extensively for this ultimate Yin Soul puppet!

One could even say that the Saint Emperor Kun Peng attacking the Wurao Secret Realm, the Saint Emperor status it brought, the impact on various factions, and the post-war distribution of spoils were all secondary concerns.

The puppet refined from the Kun Peng's true form was the most precious treasure.

In this era, a puppet body that could rival it under normal circumstances was probably only the divine exuviae left by Hua Changdeng when he became a God-Ancestor!

"Bazun An, I have given you a chance."

Within the Grand Dream of a Thousand Autumns, Hua Changdeng adopted an offensive strategy as defense, achieving perfect results.

The Kun Peng, refined in his capacity as the Lord of Fengdu, had long replaced the Ghost Ancestor's former Fengdu generals, becoming the new generation's strongest Yin Soul puppet.

Otherwise, he wouldn't have needed, nor dared, to send various generals under the Ghost Ancestor's command one by one to their deaths in such a crude and simple manner to remove the God of Death's power imprint.

Now that the Kun Peng had attacked by surprise, it was enough to inflict fatal damage on at least two of Bazun An's three aspects: body, spirit, and intent.

Of course, Bazun An could defend.

He should still have the strength to barely survive under the Kun Peng's power, protecting his body and spirit to some extent.

But if he retreated and his concentration faltered, the Grand Dream of a Thousand Autumns would surely break.

If even the sword that opened profundity shattered, would Bazun An have any chance of turning the tables, even if he managed to protect himself?

"No chance!"

"You chose not to walk the path to heaven, but instead barged into hell..."

Hua Changdeng's release of the Kun Peng was meant to be a killing blow; after this surprise attack, it was impossible for Bazun An to unleash a second sword strike.

This time, Hua Zu was enraged.

He wanted Bazun An to die without a burial place.

"By my command: Kun Peng Kill!"

A sky-shattering storm tore through, pushing the clouds upward.

At Hua Changdeng's command, the Kun spread its wings, and the Peng retracted its claws.

The Kun Peng's innate bloodline technique activated, forming a vertical, dazzling array of profound mysteries in the grand world.

In that instant, the heavens and earth lost their brilliance.

Outsiders sweeping their divine sense across the scene could only perceive a terrifying, golden sphere of energy beneath the Peng's claws, building up to an extreme, heart-pounding intensity.

The Peng's claws crossed and tore.

The golden sphere immediately shattered, unleashing a beam of Kun Peng Kill golden light, which slammed into Bazun An without preamble.

"Little Ba..."

Not only did Yue Gongnu's heart clench, but all discerning observers saw Bazun An's current predicament, caught between a rock and a hard place.

Even Wuji stretched its neck, focusing intently.

It could barely spare attention for Yu Zhiwen's condition; its entire focus was on Bazun An, making it clear what its priorities were.

"Is it time to act?"

"No!!"

In the starry sky outside the time-space rift, more frantic than even the Saint Servants themselves were the Ancestors of Medicine and Demonic Arts.

Hua Changdeng had gone mad.

He had completely derailed from the plan, thinking only of himself.

Bazun An, this "pig," hadn't yet been fattened to its fullest; the radiance he was meant to emit hadn't yet been released. He hadn't even become a God-Ancestor or achieved Dao-integration.

To be slain at this point wasn't even "having one's Dao seized" but rather being stillborn.

For the two Ancestors, this held no utilitarian or reference value whatsoever.

The Ancestors of Demonic Arts and Medicine even felt like killing Hua Changdeng!

"Is this what you meant by 'leaving it to you to resolve'?" The Demonic Ancestor raged, almost bursting out of his coffin.

The Medicine Ancestor remained silent. The phantom of the Grand World Pagoda Tree, protecting the River Lethe on the Holy Divine Continent, continuously scattered life seeds.

The seeds absorbed the River Lethe's energy, growing frantically into great trees, blooming, bearing fruit, and dropping new seeds, perpetually cycling.

The waters of the River Lethe were visibly thinning.

Bei Huai had also arrived.

Like a mad dog, he transformed into a flood dragon crossing the river and breaking through the water, relentlessly burrowing towards the Holy Divine Continent.

But it was all too slow!

"Boom!"

Golden light blazed.

The Kun Peng Kill struck Bazun An.

The Dao chains, thunder tribulations, sword intent, and other powers beneath his mangled body lasted for less than half a breath.

"Snap."

Bazun An's physical body was instantly crushed and exploded!

The Undying Sword Body's sword intent connections, like lotus root fibers, disintegrated amidst the whistling golden light under such immense Ancestral God power.

What was broken was broken, what was extinguished was extinguished.

Not even the tiniest speck of dust remained.

The golden light swept through, tearing open the sky from the Central Domain's Ghost Buddha Realm, shooting above the Southern Netherworld, piercing through the clouds, and finally vanishing at the edge of the heavens.

The Five Domains fell silent.

Everyone stared blankly at the golden light that pierced through the clouds, with lingering shock in their eyes.

"Bazun An... is dead...?"

Yue Gongnu suddenly stepped forward, but her knees buckled, and she nearly collapsed to the ground.

Yu Zhiwen was no better off, watching the Kun Peng reappear, only to shred the Saint Servant leader in a single blow. She felt a bewildering sense that the sky had fallen.

"Caw-caw."

Wuji mumbled, its belly twitching as if about to vomit something, then its cross-eyes suddenly darted towards the Grand Dream of a Thousand Autumns world.

It quickly extended its wings, stopping Yu and Yue, who might have acted impulsively.

It seems it's not over yet?

Within the Grand Dream of a Thousand Autumns, as Bazun An's body perished, the various sword cultivator figures around rapidly dimmed.

Even figures like Gu Louying and Feng Wuchen rapidly lost their brilliance, as if their forms would wither away with a single gust of wind.

The Grand Dream of a Thousand Autumns could be broken!

Hua Changdeng's brows furrowed, sensing something was amiss.

"No sense of obstruction..."

He was spiritually connected to the Kun Peng, so how could he not perceive that although the Kun Peng Kill had indeed gained the upper hand, with Bazun An's high battle awareness, how could he have offered no resistance at all?

The reality was, he hadn't resisted at all...

Hua Changdeng's pupils constricted; he realized something.

Just as he himself, after being struck by the Grand Dream of a Thousand Autumns, hadn't thought to resist but instead launched an attack.

Bazun An was also an ancient sword cultivator.

How could he not know that using a weak body to resist a powerful attack, like facing a torrential storm, would inevitably leave no chance for a comeback?

If that were the case, why not counterattack, an eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth?

That is to say...

His thoughts had just settled when he saw the world of the Grand Dream of a Thousand Autumns suddenly dim, as golden daisy-shaped crescent petals drifted and converged from all directions.

"Chrysanthemums?"

No, that wasn't chrysanthemums!

It was spirit, it was intent, it was the familiar aura of sword intent.

As the figures of ancient sword cultivators from various dynasties slowly faded, he, like one walking against the current, gracefully solidified, finally forming an ethereal, illusory figure—Bazun An!

Hua Changdeng's expression turned grim, somewhat disbelieving. "You actually willingly abandoned your physical body?"

To cultivate the Undying Sword Body over thirty years.

And then, when faced with the ultimate choice, abandon it without hesitation.

Only to recover all spirit and intent, and then pour them into the Thousand Autumns Grand Dream to stabilize this third-realm sword strike of Illusion Sword Arts...

What courage and resolve was this?

One must remember, this was merely a dream!

When the dream ended, even if Bazun An won, the Grand Dream of a Thousand Autumns world would still dissipate and disappear.

At that time, where would he go?

Would he simply perish?

This choice offered no retreat; Bazun An was effectively committing suicide!

And with his spirit and intent all gathered in this world, staking everything, his target must be himself—this fellow had truly burned his bridges, even more decisively than himself. He was truly mad!

Hua Changdeng's divine mind trembled.

At such a critical juncture of Dao-integration, how could any mistake be made?

How could he possibly take another sword strike from Bazun An, even if it were a weaker first or second-realm sword?

After becoming alert, he immediately realized that he, exposed within the Grand Dream of a Thousand Autumns world, was now completely vulnerable, his defenses wide open, in the most perilous state.

"Spirit Ghost, return!"

In the real world, Bazun An had already conceded.

Given his vengeful nature, it was impossible for him to let things go. If the Spirit Ghost's reinforcement was late, it could spell serious trouble.

Not only the Spirit Ghost, but Hua Changdeng even summoned the Saint Emperor Kun Peng, solely for defense.

—He couldn't attack anymore!

The Grand Dream of a Thousand Autumns was Bazun An's home ground.

It could be used for offense, and its only drawback was Bazun An's weak physical body in the real world—a drawback he had now voluntarily abandoned.

Bazun An's move was a gamble on his next sword strike, forcing Hua Changdeng to counter with a shield against a spear.

Fortunately!

Although the Divine Court's Underworld had shattered, its residual power could still be gathered.

The three Sword Ghosts combined, their defense unyielding.

And Bazun An, having lost his body and only retaining spirit and intent, what miraculous sword could he possibly unleash now, even in the home ground of the Grand Dream of a Thousand Autumns?

Without becoming an Ancestral God, everything was futile!

Unless... no, there was no "unless." How could he possibly have any remaining strength to unleash a profound sword strike again?

Just as he pondered this, he saw Bazun An take a step forward, his lips parting slightly!

"Lone!..."

Hearing this single word, Hua Changdeng's pupils trembled, and his scalp prickled slightly as if from a shock response.

One step, one sword, one word, one song...

This scene, how similar was it to the young Bazun An during the War of the Ten Venerables? How similar to his previous act of opening profundity with a sword, unleashing the Grand Dream of a Thousand Autumns?

He hadn't managed to become the Illusion Ancestor, his ascension process forcefully severed by himself. Did he still want to unleash another sword strike now?

"Impossible!"

Hua Changdeng refused to believe it.

Illusion Sword Arts was Bazun An's specialty, and unleashing profundity with a sword was understandable.

Among the Nine Great Sword Arts, even Sword God Gu Louying could only open one profound gate of Emotion Sword Arts. Could Bazun An open a second gate?

"Pipe dream!"

Shut up...

Stop chanting...

Die, by this Ancestor's command!

His disordered mental state from Dao-integration, coupled with the tumultuous thoughts after hearing that word, indeed made Hua Changdeng himself notice his abnormality; he was somewhat losing control.

Panicking and with no clear path, he immediately stretched out a hand and summoned:

"By my command: Fengdu!"

With a loud boom, Fengdu descended within the dream world.

The shattered Divine Court's Fengdu, its interior blurred and still reshaping, Hua Changdeng simultaneously wanted Fengdu to protect him and to ram into the enemy.

If possible, he wanted to violently smash Bazun An's spirit and intent, and shatter his unceasingly talking mouth.

"I... hesitated..."

A sudden calmness made Hua Changdeng's mind slightly chill; he had actually missed the optimal moment due to hesitation, remaining rooted to the spot without attacking.

To outsiders, it looked as if he had been scared by a single word from Bazun An.

Subconsciously, he used Fengdu to protect himself, like multiple layers of flower petals enveloping him, wishing to seal himself off with the Divine Court.

On the other side, Bazun An had clearly lost his body, his spirit and intent were weakened, and in his hand was merely an illusory Qingju, a figment of the dream.

Despite this, he still dared to step forward!

One step...

Another step...

Completely undefended, defenses wide open, yet daring to walk towards him with a sword?!

"Lone tower frost moonlight night..."

Shut up!

Hua Changdeng's eyes turned crimson; two versions of himself appeared in his mind.

One, his ancient sword cultivator self, told him that using the 'Lone Tower' as an image, it would at most reach the Sword Ancestor level. With the Sword Ancestor reincarnated and himself newly ascended, Bazun An's sword would at most reach the second realm, unable to open the profound gate or break through his defenses; he could afford to confront it.

The other, his black-robed self embodying the Dao of Souls, told him that the Grand Dream of a Thousand Autumns hadn't broken, and Bazun An's sword momentum was at its peak. Since he had chosen defense, he shouldn't act rashly lest a flaw be exposed. It was impossible to perish from Bazun An's second sword, but perishing within his Grand Dream of a Thousand Autumns was something that had to be guarded against, especially with "Illusion" Sword Arts!

As if doused with ice water, Hua Changdeng startled awake again.

He also realized that because of hesitation and indecision, he had once again chosen to "stop."

"Sword Ghost!"

He had already missed two chances.

He might as well choose to defend to the death.

Hua Changdeng summoned the three Sword Ghosts, commanding them to guard his surroundings, and raised the Altar of Hundred Ghosts.

He wanted to see just how powerful Bazun An's second sword strike would be!

"Ten Thousand Swords Boiling Chrysanthemum Autumn..."

The entire world suddenly fell silent.

As the first two lines of the sword incantation were uttered, Hua Changdeng realized something was wrong.

He saw the countless ancient sword cultivators from past and present, who should have vanished, suddenly stop their movements.

They weren't dead.

After Bazun An's voice settled, they transformed into golden chrysanthemum petals, flying in tender yellow streaks, and surged into Bazun An's body.

Power surged as well!

In the Grand Dream of a Thousand Autumns, there were no other sights.

A lone tower formed beneath the silver moon, then was dyed golden by the bleak autumn colors. In the end, only an autumn chrysanthemum, blooming with murderous intent, remained, opening at Bazun An's feet.

On each petal, Dao patterns were carved, and an ancient sword cultivator stood erect.

There were Sword God Gu Louying, Divine Sword Feng Wuchen, the Nine Great Sword Saints, and figures like the Straw-Cloaked Wanderer, Supreme Master Taiyi, and Lingzang...

Swords and sword-wielders famous throughout history from various dynasties were there. They collectively stood at Bazun An's feet, supporting "his" lone sword Dao tower.

Golden autumn chrysanthemums soon bloomed at the feet of each ancient sword cultivator, radiating murderous aura, their myriad petals fluttering down.

Hua Changdeng's vision darkened, unsure if he had lost himself in a corner of the Ghost Ancestor's memories or if he was simply stunned by the current imagery.

He had once been an ancient sword cultivator.

How could he not see it?

Entering the Dao with ten thousand swords, laying out a killing formation with murderous intent, the imagery extended beyond just the Sword God. Built upon the Grand Dream of a Thousand Autumns, borrowing the combined power of countless ancient sword cultivators from past and present, to command a single sword strike...

If this wasn't the Ten Thousand Swords Art, what was it?

And a sword strike that could only be unleashed when built upon the foundation of the Third Realm: Grand Dream of a Thousand Autumns—this sword strike...

Could it be Absolute Imperial Decree?

Or the Wrath of the Crimson God?

Neither of those entered the Dao with autumn chrysanthemum murderous intent, nor did they need to borrow the "names" of countless ancient sword cultivators from past and present!

"Lone tower frost moonlight night, ten thousand swords boiling chrysanthemum autumn."

"Half-chi Qingju bone, millennium of ceaseless pride."

A poem, a sword; a sword, a song.

Bazun An pressed forward step by step, treading upon the imagery of Sword God Gu Louying, initiating a killing formation named after countless ancient sword cultivators throughout history.

What he displayed was not personal arrogance; what he ignited was the unyielding pride of ancient sword cultivators from countless eras.

Just like the illusory broken sword Qingju in his hand, though broken and ephemeral, it still pressed forward relentlessly!

The sword was thus.

I am thus.

We, countless ancient sword cultivators, have always been thus.

"Ten Thousand Swords Art: Third Realm: World-Toppling Sword Bone!"