Chapter 140: Wielding a Sword to Cut Down a Five-Hundred-Year-Old Tree [Please Vote]

Blood Guanyin was a Dao Fruit An Le acquired after observing the years of gilded splendor emanating from Master Su Zhu of Ganye Temple.

It was an exceptionally special Dao Fruit, granting An Le a double blessing.

The first blessing allowed him, while in a land of the dead, to borrow the momentum of the souls there and strengthen his battle prowess.

The second summoned Blood Guanyin. All beings would be buried—an effect that was somewhat akin to indiscriminate self-detonation.

An Le did not truly know how powerful “all beings would be buried” was. Yet faced with the menacing Ninth-Realm cultivator Tong Diao Temple Eunuch, and the greedy, exhilarated cultivators from the Nether Prison filling the demonic ghost boats around him, this was the only trump card he could bring out.

The Heroic Spirit Invocation had fallen silent, and the Sword Intent Golden Core had been utterly exhausted.

The only thing that might allow him to fight across realms was perhaps this Dao Fruit, Blood Guanyin, which he had barely used since obtaining it.

Thus, An Le crushed the Blood Guanyin Dao Fruit without hesitation.

Boom!

A colossal crimson Guanyin statue expanded in an instant. Like a mountain being shifted through space, it slammed heavily into the Canglang River. The waves it raised were dyed the color of blood, becoming an utterly scarlet tide.

Almost at once, all twenty boats belonging to the Western Liang navy’s “Demonic Ghosts” were swallowed by crimson light, their forms completely obscured.

Tong Diao Temple Eunuch naturally reacted first. Yet precisely because he did, terror rose in his heart. Only by facing it directly could one understand the horror of this Blood Guanyin that had appeared without warning.

What other means did this An Le possess?

He recalled how An Le had stood at the bow of the boat, his expression still tranquil even when Tong Diao Temple Eunuch approached. That calmness now returned to him, sending a faint chill through his heart.

Did it mean that An Le had always been certain of victory—even that he had anticipated Tong Diao Temple Eunuch’s arrival?

The spread of the crimson light was impossible to resist. Even An Le and Zhao Huangting, who were within the boat, were enveloped by the Blood Bodhisattva, as though they had been completely drawn inside its body.

A tide of blood mist surged along the riverbank.

Within the boat, Zhao Huangting was likewise enveloped. His face was filled with astonishment as he recalled An Le’s earlier words—that he would use Buddhism to break the evil and ghost cultivators of the Nether Prison.

Could this be Buddhism?

The crimson Guanyin was also a Buddha.

Zhao Huangting gazed deeply at An Le. He realized that he truly could no longer see through the young man. It seemed An Le possessed depths that he could never fathom.

When they had first met, An Le had been merely a youth who had just set foot upon the path of cultivation. Yet because the boy possessed the character never to bow his head or bend his waist, Zhao Huangting had felt the impulse to have him inherit Green Mountain.

Sometimes, fate arrived without any reason at all.

Perhaps it took no more than a glance, a brush of shoulders, or a smile exchanged between two people for it to wind itself naturally around them.

Whether it was the heroic spirit that had drawn him into battle, or this Blood Guanyin, which merely by being released could cause a chill to rise in the heart—

Neither was something Zhao Huangting could understand about An Le.

An Le had left the bamboo sword Green Mountain with Zhao Huangting. When Blood Guanyin had fully spread, Zhao Huangting felt Green Mountain tremble faintly. Sword qi intertwined and filled the air, enveloping and protecting him.

Although he had entrusted Green Mountain to An Le, he had wielded it for five hundred years. Their bond could not be severed so easily.

When faced with true danger, Green Mountain still released sword qi of its own accord to shelter him.

A rare smile appeared on Zhao Huangting’s face.

An Le stood upon the deck. Having crushed the Blood Guanyin Dao Fruit, he had summoned the mountain-sized Blood Guanyin to descend upon the Canglang River.

Amid the spreading blood mist, a corrosive force seemed faintly to emerge, one that could shake the mind and spirit. An Le seemed to see a blood-soaked Guanyin gazing at him, laughing softly.

That corrosive force did not affect An Le. As the holder of the Dao Fruit, he naturally remained untouched.

Yet this Dao Fruit could indeed be called indiscriminate.

Apart from An Le, everyone—including Zhao Huangting—would suffer Blood Guanyin’s unrestrained assault.

All beings would be buried. As the words implied, all would die.

That was why An Le had deliberately left the bamboo sword Green Mountain beside Zhao Huangting. With Green Mountain protecting him, and with Zhao Huangting possessing little cultivation left but still retaining the will of a Ninth-Realm cultivator, Blood Guanyin’s influence was not especially severe.

The river remained utterly still. It seemed that the appearance of Blood Guanyin had suppressed its very momentum, leaving it afraid to form even the slightest ripple.

Tong Diao Temple Eunuch stood upon the river. After the initial shock, he forcefully tapped the surface with his toes, attempting to retreat beyond the strange crimson Guanyin’s range.

His expression changed.

No matter how far he retreated, he seemed unable to escape the blood mist.

Nor was he alone. The Eighth-Realm ghost cultivator of the Nether Prison found himself in the same predicament. The two of them continually retreated at tremendous speed, racing across the river for an unknown distance. They could feel the blood and vital essence within their bodies, as well as their mental strength, being stripped away and devoured by the great evil beneath the river, yet they still could not break free of the blood mist.

The Nether Prison’s ghost constable wore the ugliest expression of all. As a ghost cultivator of the Nether Prison, he had actually been frightened into retreat by such a bizarre technique.

“That An Le… Wasn’t it said that he stirred the Literary Academy’s Literary Star Ranking and drew the Vast Righteousness into his body? How can he possess such a bizarre technique?”

“All the evil and ghost cultivators beneath heaven belong to the Nether Prison, yet we have never seen such a strange method!”

“Talismans? Or perhaps a Primordial Spirit formation?”

Could such a gigantic Bodhisattva image be a technique of one of Buddhism’s three great temples?

If it was Guanyin, then it naturally had the deepest connection with Ganye Temple. It was said that An Le had been led onto the path of cultivation by Flower Jie Bing, the Jade Guanyin of the Lin Residence. Flower Jie Bing was a disciple of Master Su Zhu of Ganye Temple.

Could this be a trump card Master Su Zhu had left for An Le?

Yet something did not seem right. This Guanyin was wrong. The crimson Guanyin radiated an eerie, demonic quality, utterly incompatible with Ganye Temple’s righteous Art of the Heart Sword. That intense sense of distortion filled the ghost constable with tremendous fear.

Suddenly, every person enveloped by Blood Guanyin trembled.

Before their eyes, the blood mist began to twist. Another Blood Guanyin emerged within it.

Every person was facing a Blood Guanyin of their own.

The sense of danger in Tong Diao Temple Eunuch’s heart had spread to its utmost limit. He continuously released the blood and vital energy within his body. His brow split open, revealing the Immortal Platform upon which his Primordial Spirit sat.

Yet when he saw the Blood Guanyin smiling through its tears, Tong Diao Temple Eunuch suddenly felt an urge to weep as well, as though he had developed empathy with the Blood Guanyin.

The realization filled him with horror.

He was a Ninth-Realm cultivator, one who had opened an Immortal Platform and seated his Primordial Spirit upon it, waiting to ignite the fire of nirvana.

His mind and spirit were incomparably resilient. It was absolutely impossible for him to develop empathy so easily.

The appearance of that empathy meant that he had been affected. He had been corrupted.

A savage expression emerged upon Tong Diao Temple Eunuch’s pale, hairless face.

The Primordial Spirit seated upon the Immortal Platform opened its eyes. It transformed into something resembling a cat’s paw and reached out to tear apart the Blood Guanyin before him.

Yet the moment he brought that claw down, Tong Diao Temple Eunuch’s entire body shook violently. He felt as though his body itself were splitting apart. His Immortal Platform collapsed inch by inch, while his mind and spirit began to wither toward extinction.

The blood mist around him gradually dispersed.

He saw cultivators of the Nether Prison kneeling upon the ground, tears streaming down their faces. Smiling as they wept, they raised their hands—or seized the weapons in their grasp—and resolutely struck at themselves.

Some had their heads severed. Some smashed their own skulls into a pulp with a single palm. Some slowly reached into their chests and tore out their own hearts.

In an instant, more than half of the Nether Prison cultivators had died, all by their own hands.

When they died, their eyes even held expressions of relief and satisfaction.

It was as if they believed they had slain Blood Guanyin and felt immense pleasure at the deed. They did not realize that the one they had killed was none other than themselves.

The Eighth-Realm ghost constable suffered an even more miserable fate. Pale green ghostfire erupted across his entire body. Those flames were evil objects he had refined himself, yet at that moment he was forced to endure the torment they brought.

Tong Guan suddenly understood.

At the instant they empathized with Blood Guanyin, any attack they launched against it, any harm they inflicted upon it, ultimately fell upon themselves.

Tong Guan had attacked with a Primordial Spirit technique. In the end, it was his own mind and spirit that had been wounded, causing his Immortal Platform to collapse inch by inch and leaving him utterly weakened.

Yet Tong Guan was, after all, a Ninth-Realm cultivator. Though his Immortal Platform had shattered, he still did not die. Blood continued to seep from his mouth and nose. His condition was terrible, and his eyes were veined with crimson.

But he remained alive.

The blood mist before him grew denser and denser.

Then the fog slowly writhed, and he saw a blood-stained youth in white walking toward him step by step, a broad sword in his hand.

Tong Guan saw An Le. An expression of disbelief flashed through his eyes.

This boy… dared to come and kill him?

His Immortal Platform had collapsed, but he was still a Ninth-Realm cultivator. How could he possibly be killed by a Fifth-Realm cultivator?

Between the Ninth and Fifth Realms lay the entire breadth of the Canglang River.

“Seeking death.”

Tong Guan’s face twisted savagely as he stared at An Le approaching with his sword. He spat out two words.

An Le seemed not to hear his icy voice.

He simply began to run, sword in hand, charging toward him.

Tong Guan watched An Le draw closer. Enduring the pain of his collapsing Immortal Platform, he unleashed the blood and vital energy of his body. Innate spiritual energy surged like waves across a boundless sea.

“Die!”

Tong Guan glared furiously.

Then he saw the approaching An Le transform into a Blood Guanyin with blood tears glistening at the corners of its eyes.

Pfft!

Tong Guan’s body nearly split apart. His blood and vital energy burst from his entire body like steam. Never before had he looked so wretched. His purple robes had long since been torn to shreds by the force of his own power.

After his initial bewilderment came terror.

An illusion… That was not An Le at all. It was Blood Guanyin!

This Blood Guanyin was too strange.

Suddenly, the dense fog rolled once more.

Within it, An Le appeared again, his white clothes stained with blood. Holding Returning Swallow to Its Nest, he walked step by step across the rippling surface of the river.

…

…

Starshine poured down, carrying Li You’an’s body as it descended upon the surface of the Canglang River.

His aura rose steadily, distorting even the surrounding space.

When he saw Tong Guan colluding with the Nether Prison’s ghost constables and evil cultivators, driving demonic ghost boats rapidly toward An Le, his fury continued to climb.

He knew very well who was behind Tong Guan’s appearance here. He also knew that Tong Guan’s alliance with the Nether Prison cultivators could only have been made with that person’s silent approval.

That was precisely why he was enraged.

His Flying Tiger Army had spent years fighting the demonized armies of Western Liang, as well as the evil and ghost cultivators of the Nether Prison.

And this was what they received in return?

Was it worth it?

At that moment, Li You’an’s heart truly turned cold. He no longer held even the slightest expectation for the Great Zhao Dynasty.

He yearned more and more for the spark that was An Le to ignite into a heaven-scorching blaze and burn away every trace of darkness.

He crashed onto the river. The great evil beneath it seemed like a demonic ghost opening its fanged maw, drawing away his blood and mental strength.

But Li You’an paid it no heed. He raised his head and gazed, astonished, at the enormous Blood Guanyin that had abruptly appeared upon the Canglang River.

The Guanyin seemed to have been formed from crimson mist. It was vast beyond measure, and the blood mist enveloped everyone—Tong Guan, An Le, and the cultivators of the Nether Prison alike.

Li You’an furrowed his brows. His mind and spirit surged forth like a storm, attempting to investigate what was occurring within Blood Guanyin.

Yet the moment his mental power approached, he sensed a threat. After a moment’s thought, he dispersed it like a gentle breeze.

This Blood Guanyin…

It should have been created by An Le. Li You’an had personally seen a palm-sized crimson Guanyin statue appear in An Le’s hand before An Le crushed it.

Only after it had been crushed did the great mist transform into the Guanyin statue.

“An Le’s trump card… Just how many trump cards does he have?”

Li You’an could not help murmuring.

Yet for some reason, he suddenly felt less worried. He sensed that An Le might not be in danger after all. It was intuition.

However, he had not yet dispersed the starlight and remained in an extremely powerful state.

Tong Guan was, after all, a Ninth-Realm cultivator. Though An Le had employed a strange technique, he might not be able to kill Tong Guan. Once the blood mist dispersed, Li You’an would still have to decide whether to intervene.

The appearance of Blood Guanyin upon the Canglang River immediately drew the attention of powerful figures watching the situation from every direction.

Ye Longsheng, Di Zang, Zhong Shiji, and other peerless generals all revealed astonishment in their eyes. They were being held at bay and could not assist An Le, yet they had never expected him to possess another trump card.

“Guanyin? Was this trump card given to him by Ganye Temple?”

High in the air, the left chancellor of the Yuanmeng Empire, Boyan, dressed in a feathered fan and silk headdress, frowned as he stared down.

He who had always calculated every possibility had not anticipated that An Le possessed such a trump card.

The powerful cultivators of the Yuanmeng Empire who had pursued An Le here were likewise filled with lingering fear, even with a measure of dread.

The Blood Guanyin was vast beyond measure. Merely gazing at it from afar caused an eerie chill to creep through their minds and spirits.

Perhaps if they had been drawn inside, they too would have suffered greatly.

The Sixth Mountain Master lowered both hands. As his ten fingers moved, three thousand swords hidden in the air intertwined, forming an enormous sword formation.

He looked toward the Canglang River and the colossal Blood Guanyin. A trace of surprise appeared in his eyes.

Yet although An Le still had a trump card, no one believed that Tong Guan would die within it.

A Ninth-Realm cultivator was not so easy to kill.

Besides, how could a Fifth-Realm cultivator like An Le kill someone of the Ninth Realm?

…

…

“What is that?”

On the southern bank of the Canglang River, the Second Prince, Zhao Pei, drew a deep breath. His eyes were filled with astonishment. He truly could not see through An Le’s trump card.

Yet seeing Tong Guan force An Le to reveal it, he felt a small thrill of excitement. This meant that An Le had one fewer trump card remaining.

“This should be his final trump card… It is a strange technique, but it is also indiscriminate.”

“Therefore, unless absolutely necessary, An Le would never use it lightly. Yet he has used it now. In other words, he was forced to reveal his final trump card.”

King Jiangling said this solemnly as he held up his umbrella.

“A trump card is one fewer trump card after each use. But even so, I must admit that An Le truly exceeds all expectations.”

Even the proud Second Prince Zhao Pei had no choice but to acknowledge An Le’s uniqueness.

“It is simply unclear what is happening within that enormous Blood Guanyin.”

“By all appearances, An Le should no longer be in danger. This Blood Guanyin is truly bizarre, but it is only natural that it could stop Tong Guan.”

“Li You’an has fallen onto the river and rushed over. Tong Guan will probably not be able to take advantage of the situation.”

King Jiangling held his umbrella. His refined face wore a cheerful smile, and his eyes narrowed into slits.

…

…

Tong Guan’s entire body was stained with blood. His meridians were severed, and his condition was abysmal.

His own Immortal Platform had shattered, and his own physical body had suffered grievous injuries.

He was a Ninth-Realm cultivator, yet on this day he had been humiliated beyond measure. He should have been the one forcing An Le into a desperate situation. He had never expected a Blood Guanyin that had sprung from nowhere to reverse the entire situation.

Tong Guan was filled with anguish. Beyond the regret of failing his mission, he felt the humiliation of having been toyed with by Blood Guanyin as though he were a puppet in its palm.

Having missed this opportunity, it would be extremely difficult for him to kill An Le again.

Once Li You’an, Ye Longsheng, and the others learned what had happened, they would certainly break away from their battles and rush to provide aid.

Against top-tier experts such as Li You’an and Ye Longsheng, Tong Guan was still inferior. He had no confidence that he could seize An Le’s life from them.

He stared coldly at An Le as the young man emerged from the rolling, dense fog.

An illusion?

Could he possibly fall into the same trap twice?

His Immortal Platform had been wounded, and his Primordial Spirit had suffered severe injuries. At that moment, it was difficult for him to discern whether the An Le approaching with his sword was real or false.

Yet Tong Guan felt certain that it was an illusory phantom.

If he attacked again, he might cause his already grievous injuries to worsen, ultimately bringing about his own death.

The deaths of the Nether Prison’s cultivators around him were the clearest examples.

That Eighth-Realm ghost constable, so greedy that he had wanted to refine An Le into a corpse puppet, had already been reduced to ashes. Not even his bones remained. He had died most miserably by his own hand.

Thus, when Tong Guan saw An Le approaching with his sword, the familiar scene caused him to sneer inwardly.

If this was an illusion, then he needed to do nothing. It would soon vanish, finally transforming into that weeping Blood Guanyin.

Perhaps then he could break the illusion and escape the strange Blood Guanyin.

An Le walked toward Tong Guan.

At thirty feet, nothing happened.

At fifteen feet, Tong Guan continued to watch coldly.

When An Le came within three feet, he raised Returning Swallow to Its Nest and swung it down with all his strength.

When the razor-sharp blade struck Tong Guan’s neck, the pain of his skin being sliced open instantly brought Tong Guan back to his senses.

His body reacted instinctively. The physical might of a Ninth-Realm body-refining cultivator manifested, and the muscles in his neck clamped around Returning Swallow to Its Nest, stopping the descending blade.

“Not an illusion?”

Tong Guan froze for a moment, then delight appeared in his eyes.

This was the real An Le?

At such close range…

Did that mean he still had a chance to kill An Le?

“How can a Fifth-Realm cultivator kill a Ninth-Realm one? Arrogant!”

Killing intent surged through Tong Guan’s eyes.

A dying camel was still larger than a horse. Moreover… he was not dead yet.

His Immortal Platform had shattered.

His physical body had been grievously wounded by his own power. His meridians were ruptured, his blood and vital energy flowing backward.

His condition had fallen to an unprecedented low.

But he was still a Ninth-Realm cultivator!

Suddenly, Tong Guan froze.

The An Le gripping Returning Swallow to Its Nest was staring at him with eyes blazing like the radiant sun, as though he were looking at a precious pill of immense nourishment.

Behind An Le, Tong Guan seemed to see countless souls climbing over one another.

Yin and yang emerged behind him.

The dead intertwined and formed a mighty force.

An invincible aura arose in his heart. The white python transformed into a celestial dragon.

Innate blood and vital energy interwove around An Le’s body. Radiance surged from his Primordial Spirit. His seven-colored Heart Sword shone with dazzling brilliance as it tore forcefully from his brow and plunged into Tong Guan’s muddled Numinous Palace, where his Immortal Platform had collapsed.

Tong Guan’s entire body shook violently.

An Le gripped the hilt of Returning Swallow to Its Nest with both hands. His expression was cold and severe as he drew the sword free. The sound of its edge scraping against taut flesh lingered endlessly in the air, but in the end, the blade came free with ease.

Then he swung it down again.

He wrenched it free and struck once more.

Again.

Again.

Again.

It was as though he were hacking at a five-hundred-year-old tree.

The head of the disheveled temple eunuch was severed by brute force and fell away.

“A Fifth-Realm cultivator killing a Ninth-Realm one…”

“And killing you like this.”

P.S. Please support me with monthly passes and recommendation tickets!

End of Chapter