Chapter 636: God-Demon Eye, Do You Recognize It?

"For the sword-wielder, there are no gods in the chest, no Buddhas in the heart...""The sword reigns supreme; those who defy are slain, those who rebel are slain...""Where the Dao lies, the heart yearns; the body is one with the sword, higher than the heavens..."Gou Wuyue suddenly staggered a few steps, watching Eight Revered One's figure slowly depart. In his mind, a scene from years ago surfaced: their first meeting on the eve of the Ten Revered Seats' campaign.

At that time, Sword Immortal Wuyue was famous throughout the land. The title of Eight Sword Immortal had also earned a magnificent reputation in the Central Region. The two admired each other. When Gou Wuyue asked what a sword truly was, Eight Revered One gave his answer in just a few words.

Indeed, with no gods or Buddhas in their hearts, the sword-wielder inherently becomes supreme. Swordsmen striving for the peak never possess conventional beliefs; perhaps their only faith lies solely in the sword, and in themselves. Once something hangs above their head, the path of the sword becomes inexplicably obstructed. Gou Wuyue understood this principle, and it was the same truth Eight Revered One had spoken back then.

Now, after decades apart, they had gone their separate ways. One had become the leader of the Saint Servants, the other the Dominant Enforcer of the Holy Divine Palace. It appeared each had their own ambitions, pursuing different paths. Yet, upon closer reflection, Eight Revered One remained the same Eight Revered One from all those years ago—the Eight Revered One who towered over the heavens, the Eight Revered One, leader of the Saint Servants. Throughout his journey, even after his defeat under Hua Changdeng's sword, nothing could ever hang above his head. But what about himself?

The golden Buddha light dissipated, leaving only hundreds of floating corpses on the field, blood flowing like a river. Gou Wuyue looked up at the sky, seeing the heavens already shattered by Eight Revered One's single sword strike. But beyond that shattered sky, a towering holy mountain hung over his own head—the Gui Zhe Holy Mountain!

Nothing hung above Eight Revered One's head. For himself, however, there was far more than just one person above him.

"Bowing in sincere trepidation? My Dao deems the heavens too low..." Gou Wuyue murmured, his gaze somewhat unfocused. He suddenly understood why Eight Revered One had repeatedly shaken his head, always responding to his questions with a noncommittal attitude. Upon Eight Revered One's slightly bent back rested an entire expanse of sky, the suppression of the Great Dao, and the watchful gaze of the saints. Even so, he still dared to utter the phrase, "Bowing in sincere trepidation? My Dao deems the heavens too low."

This implied that even when Hua Changdeng's three sword strikes broke two of his fingers and severed his head years ago, Eight Revered One still didn't take it to heart. Furthermore, despite the suppression of the Martial Ban for so many years and the threats and encirclement from all sides, the Saint Servants, led by Eight Revered One, had completely disregarded it, even displaying a carefree attitude of disdain and indifference. He wasn't afraid! But what about himself?

Gou Wuyue lowered his gaze and saw the renowned sword "Slave Arashi's Voice" on the ground. "Perhaps, he is right?" As this question echoed in his heart, Gou Wuyue suddenly became clear-headed.

With a wave of his hand, the renowned sword clanged into his grasp. He then shouted loudly at the receding figure, "Eight Revered One, do you know the ultimate consequences of opposing those people?!"

Tap. Eight Revered One stopped, without turning his head. "How could I not know?" The withered branch was broken. Under the Great Buddha Slash, how much power could a mere decaying branch withstand? His hand was now empty.

Eight Revered One rubbed the ridged scar on his thumb and smiled casually. "But what of it?" he said. "The opposition... it began after those three sword strikes. Even if they don't come for me, one day, I will go for them. By then, if you still haven't awakened, my sword will claim another life—yours."

Silence. Gou Wuyue returned dejected; his question was like a stone sinking into the sea, yielding only a ripple of predictable, slight surprise. Indeed. If that person's ambition still remained, if his soul truly hadn't been killed by Hua Changdeng's three sword strikes, then shouldn't this response be the only logical one?

Or perhaps, this entire incident was truly just a signal. After all, while the commotion was great, Eight Revered One had only used a withered branch picked casually from the ground. And what he was preparing for—something that even the former Eight Sword Immortal needed decades to accumulate power for—with his sword hidden for years, how dazzling would its true radiance be when it finally emerged?

Gou Wuyue watched Eight Revered One slowly walk away, then suddenly recall something and float into the air, and for a moment, he let out a wry laugh. He sometimes envied such people. But trapped within the game, one was not truly free. Even Sword Immortals and Grand Void cultivators could only gaze enviously at the scenery outside their cages. "Who doesn't yearn for freedom?"

He murmured softly, turning to look at the corpses scattered everywhere. Even Gou Wuyue couldn't help but twitch his mouth. To capture a single Sang Qiye, seven hundred White-Clad Cultivators died. This was only because of the demonic energy from Ai Cang's arrow, which Eight Revered One couldn't resolve. Otherwise, this battle might truly have yielded nothing. Recalling the fleeting holy power that flashed at the very end, Gou Wuyue felt helpless.

"Seal the sword until old age, and in old age, I become a saint." "I wonder how long it will take to break through to Xiantian midway, and then return to true simplicity..." With a flick of his sleeve, a figure appeared.

As Yu Zhiwen landed, she was startled by the headless corpses scattered across the ground. "This!?" she exclaimed. "Don't ask," Gou Wuyue replied. "Huh?" Yu Zhiwen questioned. "Just as you see it." "Let's go, it's time to change locations." Gou Wuyue seemed to age decades in an instant, giving a self-deprecating smile. "This time, should I be rewarded, or punished... hmm, rewarded..." He lowered his head, lost in thought. Yu Zhiwen quickly followed.

Gou Wuyue suddenly stopped, turned around, and said, "After we return, tell me everything you know about that little stone... Xu Xiaoshou." Yu Zhiwen paused. After a long moment, her eyes rolled, and her star-like pupils blinked. "Okay," she replied.

Within the spatial rift. "This, is the Great Buddha Slash?" Xu Xiaoshou, crouching behind the red-robed Storyteller, suddenly poked his head out.

After being thrown by Elder Sang, Xu Xiaoshou was rescued by the Storyteller; the two should have left at the same time. But as the situation changed and Eight Revered One appeared, the Storyteller could no longer ignore it. He held the same idea as Haitang'er: if a true crisis arose, they would risk their lives to ensure Eight Revered One's safety. But who would have thought that the scene of hundreds of Buddha phantoms ascending to the heavens, then being cut down by a single sword, would end the grief in everyone's hearts? Eight Revered One was still Eight Revered One. The Eighth Sword Immortal had never changed.

"This is too strong..." the Storyteller murmured, not even hearing Xu Xiaoshou's question. His eyes were filled with sparkling stars, and love practically overflowed from them.

"This way," Xu Xiaoshou said, pointing at the mirror surface before them. In the image, Eight Revered One, flying through the air, began to tremble after leaving Gou Wuyue's sight, his limbs visibly weak and unsteady. Immediately after several violent coughs, blood mixed with fragments of internal organs, and he almost coughed out his lungs.

"Brother!" The Storyteller immediately thought of his brother's post-combat side effects. But before he could even move, a Haitang flower bloomed beneath Eight Revered One's feet. Under its envelopment, he vanished.

"Tsk tsk," Xu Xiaoshou said, tilting his head with a teasing tone. "You were a step too slow; your brother was snatched away."

The Storyteller gave him an annoyed glare, then wasted no more words. With a wave of his hand, the two instantly shifted positions within the spatial rift at light speed. The whistling blades of void turbulence quickly disappeared.

Xu Xiaoshou felt that within a few breaths, they were back on solid ground, sensing the familiar aura of the Great Dao. "What exactly is your ability?" he asked, curious. If it was spatial ability, it didn't seem like it. After all, Xu Xiaoshou had witnessed Ye Xiaotian's spatial power before. But if it wasn't spatial in nature... When Xu Xiaoshou thought of the red-robed man's ancient book space, and its ability to completely replicate Great Daos and scenes, it simply didn't make sense.

"Mirror World," the Storyteller replied. He seemed to truly regard Xu Xiaoshou as one of his own and explained without hesitation: "My ability, to put it simply, is merely mirror replication. But with the cooperation of the 'Yin-Yang Life-and-Death' and even treasures, it can manifest power similar to spatial abilities. Understand?" Xu Xiaoshou nodded.

Now he understood. So the ancient book space was the power of "Yin-Yang Life-and-Death," but the mirror worlds within it, like the Spirit Melting Marsh and Departing Sword Grassland, were replicated by the Storyteller himself. Thinking about it this way, even if it wasn't spatial, such an ability was truly terrifying!

"Mirror replication..." Xu Xiaoshou felt that no one among the Saint Servants was simple. The abilities and treasures they possessed allowed each of them to stand alone. To put it more bluntly, perhaps it was precisely because of such outstanding abilities that they were chosen by the Eighth Sword Immortal to become one of the Nine Seats of the Saint Servants.

As he was thinking, the ground suddenly rippled. Then, a Haitang flower bloomed, and Haitang'er appeared, carrying Eight Revered One's weak, bloodless figure on her back.

"Where's Elder Sang? What's the word?" Xu Xiaoshou didn't waste a moment, stepping forward quickly to ask. Although he had been observing, he clearly saw that Cen Qiaofu had been brought out by Eight Revered One, but Elder Sang was still with Gou Wuyue.

"Second Brother is out of the picture," Haitang'er said. Eight Revered One seemed unable to speak even half a sentence; his lips moved a few times, and Haitang'er spoke for him. "Ai Cang's 'Evil Sin Bow' is one of the nine supreme artifacts from the dawn of chaos. In terms of ranking, it is as famous as the 'Four Swords of Existence'. And with Ai Cang shooting that arrow with semi-saint power, it's a miracle Second Brother isn't dead. Not to mention the demonic energy—no one can resolve it!"

"Not even him?" Xu Xiaoshou asked, pointing at the wilting Eight Revered One. "He really can't," Haitang'er stated solemnly. "Cough, cough, cough... *Pfft*!" Eight Revered One seemed to struggle to refute her, but after a violent fit of coughing, a mouthful of blood sprayed directly behind Haitang'er's ear.

"Cursed, Passive Value, 1." The few people fell silent for a few moments, seeming to understand something.

"Let's leave first!" The Storyteller was the first to wave his hand, indicating that this was not a good place for conversation. The few people nodded simultaneously, and the Haitang flower bloomed again, making their figures disappear.

The battle finally concluded. It left behind a sky filled with sorrowful space, and scars crisscrossing the land. Even the heavens and earth were shattered. At this moment, amidst the blood-red setting sun and the withering west wind, there was nothing else but quiet.

*Crackling sounds...* Under the moonlight, inside a cave. Bonfires were piled high, and firewood crackled.

Xu Xiaoshou controlled white flames with one hand, providing warmth and grilling food for everyone, while secretly observing the people sitting around him with his "Perception" ability.

Eight Revered One, Haitang'er, the Storyteller... two Grand Peak Dao Slicers, plus Eight Revered One, who could cut down seven hundred White-Clad Cultivators with a single sword and defeat Sword Immortal Wuyue. Not once had Xu Xiaoshou ever dared to fantasize about sitting with such powerful figures. He didn't even dare to dream of it.

"The world is truly unpredictable; perhaps this is the only time."

Before him sat three great giants. Beside him were the now-awakened Lei Shuangxing, Luo Leilei, and his junior sister, Mu Zixi. These few people were much more interesting.

Luo Leilei made no attempt to hide it, staring intently at Xu Xiaoshou with wide eyes. Her gaze was filled with amusement, teasing, and a mischievous glint that suggested she wanted to make fun of him. But with her seniors present, she dared not speak carelessly.

As for Lei Shuangxing, this fellow had vanished without a trace after being kicked to death by Xin Gugu's blood-soaked Minotaur form. Clearly, the Storyteller had saved his life. After a short rest, he was now effectively "half-resurrected." His mottled and blurred face shimmered in the bonfire light, and his head was turned directly towards Mu Zixi.

Mu Zixi cautiously glanced at his ugly face, then dared not look again, shrinking closer to Xu Xiaoshou's side. She had also been rescued by the Storyteller after being thrown into the spatial fragments by Elder Sang. Now, sitting directly opposite Lei Shuangxing, she felt as if she were sitting on pins and needles.

"Xu Xiaoshou, why does he keep looking at me?" Mu Zixi whispered cautiously, then simply shifted her bottom, using Xu Xiaoshou as a shield. Xu Xiaoshou, focused on the wild game in his hand and displaying his "Culinary Mastery" skill by using spirit herbs as seasoning, didn't think much of it. Upon hearing her, he blurted out, "Why do you keep looking at my junior sister?"

As these words came out, everyone turned their heads. Clearly, Mu Zixi had used voice transmission, but Xu Xiaoshou had been quite open about it. Or, to put it another way, he was not yet familiar with the spirit skill of voice transmission.

Lei Shuangxing seemed to freeze for a moment, then parted his lips. "I'm blind," he said. Xu Xiaoshou's hand stiffened, his brow furrowed. He immediately turned his head in annoyance and gave Mu Zixi a firm tap on the head. "He's... uh, how could he be looking at you? Besides, so what if he was? Do you have a problem with it?"

Mu Zixi, holding her head, was about to speak, but everyone looked at her at the same time. Her mouth puckered, and with teary eyes, she couldn't say anything. "Cursed, Passive Value, 1, 1, 1, 1..."

The scene grew quiet once more. Xu Xiaoshou watched as they sat for so long without any of the big figures speaking, so he simply turned his head to look at Lei Shuangxing.

Ever since their encounter at the Heavenly Sang Spirit Palace, he had been very curious about this fellow. Later, when Mu Zixi opened her eyes, her black and white pupils were exactly like the move Lei Shuangxing used to immobilize Ye Xiaotian that day. In other words, perhaps these two were connected somehow? Could Mu Zixi's secret perhaps be unraveled through this person?

"Your eyes..." The moment Xu Xiaoshou opened his mouth, he saw surprised gazes from everyone, clearly indicating that such a topic, akin to revealing someone's wound, was not suitable for a direct question. But he didn't care. After a moment's hesitation, he still asked, "Is there a story behind them?" "Mm," Lei Shuangxing replied with a hum, not even lifting his head.

The scene grew quiet again. Xu Xiaoshou was stunned. That's it? He glanced back at Mu Zixi, then got straight to the point: "Do you know anything about the Divine Demonic Eyes?"