Chapter 615: Eight Zun An's Refusal, Gou Wuyue's Achievement

"Stop!"

At that moment, within the Imperial Shield of Heaven, Gou Wuyue's belated shout finally reached them. Yet, how could any of the Holy Slaves endure the humiliation of their spiritual leader having his head exploded by a single palm strike? The battle, however, was far from over!

With another "boom," Yu Lingdi's body, which had disintegrated into fragments of flesh in mid-air, was mercilessly pulverized by a colossal, phantom ancient book, hundreds of feet in size. It was then violently ground into the immense purple begonia blooming on the ground, all under the storyteller's grim expression.

"Whoa."

The strange purple begonia petals trembled. With a soft sound, they closed like a carnivorous plant, swallowing everything.

"Gulp."

The flower branches bulged and writhed downwards, like intestines.

"Gulp."

Xu Xiaoshou's throat also bobbed, his face turning pale at the sight.

"I knew it, I knew it..."

"I knew these people in the White Cave were just testing the waters..."

This is insane! Several powerful Cut-Way cultivators and Grand-Void practitioners, as if playing a game, unleashed a combo that utterly annihilated Yu Lingdi, the master of the supreme profound truth said to be capable of silencing the Grand-Void.

"Spit him out!"

A furious voice echoed from the horizon. At this moment, Number Thirty-Three, having fully repaired his body, was rushing over at high speed.

But he was, in the end, more than just a step too late. As he reached the battlefield, the purple begonia, which had covered the entire ground, trembled slightly, as if letting out a satisfied burp, and its petals reopened to full bloom.

Number Thirty-Three's eyes were bloodshot. Yu Lingdi was his partner. Over the years, they had witnessed each other's growth. Just one misstep, and his former partner... gone?

"Shatter!"

Number Thirty-Three roared, raising his fist, from which a surge of white Grand-Void power erupted. He launched a punch towards the begonia on the ground.

"Whoosh."

His fist struck the begonia. The begonia trembled and scattered into flying petals. But as the saying goes, fallen petals are not heartless; they nourish silently. As one begonia died, thousands upon thousands more bloomed from that very spot. Suddenly, the world spun, the order of the Heavenly Dao collapsed, and a sea of flowers replaced everything in the scene.

"Crunch!"

Number Thirty-Three's fist clenched with a cracking sound. This familiar scene... "Fragrant Hometown of Flowers?"

The last time he escaped this terrifying predicament, it was after Yu Lingdi's myriad attempts, finally sensing the water element from the flowers' scent. It was through connecting with the Great Dao of the Ten Thousand Worlds that he had broken through this domain. But now, having re-entered the "Fragrant Hometown of Flowers," Yu Lingdi was nowhere to be found.

This wretched place, without Haitang'er's guidance before, was simply adrift in spatial turbulence. Number Thirty-Three had attempted attacks a thousand times, all to no avail. How could he possibly break through it now? It was a replica domain of the Seven Broken Taboos!

"What's going on?"

"Where is this? Oh my god, it's so beautiful, even more breathtaking than the immortal realm I just saw..."

"Hmm, wait, no?"

"Another illusion!!"

The white-robed cultivators, who had finally awakened from the Immortal Court predicament after the purple begonia vanished, stared blankly at the boundless, beautiful sea of flowers before them, each lost in thought once more. Within moments, a spiritual array master realized something was wrong.

The previous predicament was so realistic it could bewilder one's will, making it difficult for them to even consider that the Immortal Court predicament was an illusion. But in this current flower sea entrapment array, they could still see their comrades! And some people were still lucid enough to realize that this was an illusion?

"Therefore, it's not an illusion!"

Among the panicked white-robed cultivators, a spiritual array master with experience manipulating large-scale spiritual arrays like the Imperial Shield of Heaven finally determined this by touching array nodes and feeling array patterns. This was not an illusion. Because at this moment, they couldn't sense any array nodes or patterns. This damn thing definitely wasn't an illusion.

"This is a domain!"

Finally, someone revealed the truth. Yet, among those present, including many Throne and Cut-Way cultivators, their successive attacks on this domain frequently proved ineffective. Not to mention breaking through the domain. Each spiritual technique striking the ubiquitous flower buds merely cleared a small space. But fallen petals nourish. Instead, other flower buds received more fertile energy and bloomed even more enchantingly. That was all. There were no other effects!

The intoxicating fragrance of the flowers filled the air, and everyone began to feel somewhat disoriented, some even losing their minds. "This is a domain?"

"This domain's power is too strong, isn't it?"

"I'm a Cut-Way cultivator, damn it! How could I get lost in a mere domain?"

The dissenting voices gradually faded. The white-robed cultivators of Throne cultivation fell unconscious one by one, while those of Cut-Way cultivation could still hold on. But having their initiative seized by the entrapping domain, they had lost all advantages of timing, terrain, and harmony. Simply defending themselves was already incredibly difficult.

"Fragrant Hometown of Flowers..."

Gou Wuyue stepped forward, gazing intently, a look of surprise on his face: "Haitang'er?"

Whoosh.

Number Thirty-Three flashed behind Gou Wuyue. "Greetings, Senior Wuyue."

Without Yu Lingdi's thoughts. This "Fragrant Hometown of Flowers" was a domain of the Seven Broken Taboos, also reputed to possess the ability to bewilder the Grand-Void... As an unintelligent Heavenly Secret puppet, he wasn't afraid of direct combat, but he dreaded such bizarre methods. It was said that it could divide and conquer, gradually breaking down opponents. Even as a Heavenly Secret puppet, he could fall to the continuous miraculous techniques of these Holy Slaves. After all, at the very beginning, that axe-wielding old man had demonstrated extraordinary Grand-Void power—Spirit Siphoning, a terrifying technique capable of threatening Heavenly Secret puppets!

"Senior Wuyue, do you know me?"

Haitang'er, holding a flower, was somewhat surprised. He had never met Gou Wuyue. And Gou Wuyue was not responsible for the northern combat sector.

"Fragrant Hometown of Flowers, I've long heard of its reputation." Gou Wuyue's expression was grave. Like Number Thirty-Three, those at their level weren't afraid of brute force. Because no matter how strong, one couldn't surpass a Sword Immortal. But these sorts of unorthodox, devious paths... those who played with flowers and could truly create tricks, those were the most lethal. One careless mistake, and you wouldn't even know how you died!

Haitang'er's face broke into a smile, and he said, "Senior Wuyue, would you like to try to break my 'Fragrant Hometown of Flowers'? To be honest, I'm quite curious if the upper limit of my domain can withstand a Sword Immortal's attack."

Gou Wuyue stared intently at him for a long time, then suddenly smiled. "Cut-Way?"

Haitang'er raised an eyebrow but gave no response, yet Gou Wuyue understood everything.

"No need to try."

He shook his head, refusing, "You are not my opponent." With that, he turned and cast his gaze upon the masked man.

"The mask, take it off."

It was an order!

The masked man raised an eyebrow, unfazed: "What else do you wish to prove?"

"I said... the mask, take it off!"

Gou Wuyue's voice was very cold.

"Hmm."

The masked man hesitated for a moment, then slowly nodded, "Alright." With that, he actually began to act, slowly lifting the mask from bottom to top, revealing a face covered in caked blood and grime. His unruly hair was pressed flat against his scalp, his stubble was crooked and uneven, and his eyes were completely lifeless, showing no trace of his former swordsman's demeanor...

Gou Wuyue's heart trembled. But this, this was Ba Zun'an's face! Even if outsiders imitated it, no matter how well they tried, a true person was true, and a counterfeit was a counterfeit. Even though his aura was entirely different from decades ago, some things, some essence, could not be erased by time. What Gou Wuyue saw on this face was not slovenliness. Rather, it was a face whose edges had been smoothed by time, whose destiny had been crushed by the Heavenly Dao, and who had been forcibly suppressed and killed by Hua Changdeng—a face slightly deteriorated but still showing a third of its former glory.

"Submission..."

A word flashed through Gou Wuyue's mind, and suddenly his pores slightly opened, and the hairs on his skin stood on end. What an absurd word that was! The word itself wasn't absurd. But when applied to the Eighth Sword Immortal, who once looked down upon the world with unyielding arrogance... Submission? It was as if two parallel lines had intersected at a certain point. That dirty face truly startled Gou Wuyue.

"You've changed," he murmured.

"Is that enough?"

The masked man chuckled, then added, "If not, there's more." He removed his gloves, both of them, then tore open the black robe that covered his neck, ripping it down to his chest. His eight fingers, having lost their thumbs... And where those eight fingers moved, a horrifying, shocking scar on his neck was exposed to the air...

Gou Wuyue clutched the Slave's Whisper in his palm tightly. He took a deep breath, his voice trembling slightly.

"Tell me, what is your name!"

It wasn't a question, but an exclamation.

"I've already told you, there's no point in saying more," the masked man replied with a smile.

"Your name!"

Gou Wuyue roared.

The masked man's expression froze for a moment. He could see burning fighting intent in Gou Wuyue's eyes, a sign of respect for a former adversary. At this moment, his blood surged, feeling a surge of excitement. Even if he couldn't fly...

"Whoosh!"

A tremendous force suddenly came from beneath his feet; a blooming begonia pushed him upwards. Then, the space beneath his feet solidified completely, stable enough to support a person's standing. The masked man turned his head to look. Haitang'er was smiling, and the storyteller's eyes were full of encouragement. Everyone knew that so-called ancient sword cultivators possessed their own arrogance. When they declared their names, it was a sword ceremony, and the moment of battle.

"I cannot fly, but my comrades can still raise me to my former height..."

The masked man's eight fingers tightened, and the old color faded from his face. He felt that his previous declaration of war had been insufficient. To formally declare war, he had to be as open as Gou Wuyue was forcing him to be, without the slightest concealment. Open and above board... that was the path the Holy Slaves should follow from now on!

"Ba... Zun... An!"

The masked man's eyes blazed with sword intent, and his golden words rang out, resonant and powerful.

At this moment, the Four Swords in Xu Xiaoshou's hand trembled wildly, flying from his grasp and soaring into the sky. The Slave's Whisper in Gou Wuyue's hand also vibrated violently, almost tearing his tiger's mouth apart. The masked man... no, the masked man was no longer masked. He had a new name.

"My name is Ba Zun'an!"

"The world may imitate me, but until I reappear, no one can surpass me... I am Ba Zun'an!"

As Ba Zun'an spoke, he casually waved his hand, and the Four Swords, which were about to strike directly, were commanded back into Xu Xiaoshou's hand. Xu Xiaoshou looked at the two great swordsmen standing high in the air, feeling his blood boil at that moment. He gripped the Four Swords tightly. "Don't be silly, he doesn't want you anymore. Ba Zun'an, he wields no sword but is better than having one!"

"Wooooo—"

Surprisingly, the Four Swords didn't resist but let out a sob, seemingly believing it and genuinely heartbroken.

"Hahahaha!"

"What a line: 'Until I reappear, no one can surpass me, Ba Zun'an.'"

Gou Wuyue threw his head back and laughed.

After laughing, he released his grip. The Slave's Whisper suddenly found itself unbound, hovering in mid-air with a hum, not flying away, but seemingly unsure of what to do. "The promise of old still holds true. You merely stayed with me temporarily." Gou Wuyue waved his sleeve and said, "Now, your true master has arrived. Go!" His words to Ba Zun'an were full of hostility. Yet, when speaking to the famous sword before him, his tone was entirely gentle. His gaze, which softened with his words, held a hint of resolve and a faint reluctance. But when it was time to let go, he let go. Release, that was all.

"Wooooo—"

The Slave's Whisper trembled even more violently. Its sobbing sound was not as dull as the Four Swords' but rather a high-pitched, eerie wail.

Everyone watching was stunned. Even the seven hundred Holy Divine Guards hidden in the blind spots of the Eight Palaces outside the arena were speechless. No one had expected the situation to take such a dramatic turn, with a great battle imminent. Nor had anyone expected the Holy Slaves to go berserk after Yu Lingdi's palm strike, annihilating him on the spot. Even less did they expect Gou Wuyue to personally arrive and confirm the emergence of the Eighth Sword Immortal!

"Things are about to change!"

Dozens of people in the arena, and seven or eight hundred outside, felt both excitement and dread. But everyone knew that once the name "Ba Zun'an" was officially recognized, the heavens themselves would be altered!

The battle's momentum shifted. With Gou Wuyue's arrival, the protagonists of the world could only be these two swordsmen. Ba Zun'an looked at the hesitant famous sword, the Slave's Whisper, and waved his hand.

"No need to return."

His face was filled with relief. He ran his four-fingered hands through his hair, smoothing the messy strands back, then spat, fixing his hairstyle. "When I discarded you in the past, you and I were no longer on the same path."

"And now..."

Ba Zun'an looked at his hands, which only had four fingers remaining, and murmured, "They're dirty, and old... These hands of mine can no longer properly grip a sword."

He placed his hand to his left side. No one knew what he intended to do. Cen Qiaofu, however, sighed and pulled another wine gourd from his ring, tossing it over.

"I knew you had more..."

Ba Zun'an shook his head with a faint smile, then his expression became serious, and he tilted his head back, gulping down the contents.

"Gulp, gulp."

Everyone was startled. Even Gou Wuyue was taken aback by this unrestrained demeanor. The Eighth Sword Immortal, who was once said to be a teetotaler, saving chaos with his drunken swordplay...

"You've truly changed," Gou Wuyue murmured.

"How can a person remain unchanged forever?"

Ba Zun'an drank the last drop, casually tossed the wine gourd aside, and a hint of mockery entered his eyes, "You've changed too, but that fearless, battle-hungry look of yours hasn't changed a bit."

Gou Wuyue didn't speak, but turned his head to look at the Slave's Whisper.

"Hum."

The famous sword, the Slave's Whisper, let out a low tremble, seemingly completely despondent. It fell silent.

"Then come back!"

A thunderous shout awakened the dormant sword. Vast sword intent illuminated the void, reflecting across the endless sea of flowers. Everyone felt Gou Wuyue's aura change; it was as if he no longer hid his edge, but was a true sharp sword drawn from its sheath.

"If others don't want you, I, Gou Wuyue, do!"