Chapter 269 Withstanding Ancient Sword Qi

Just for a moment.

Outside the ruins, where tensions had been high, the air seemed to have been sucked out instantly.

Old Ding felt his heart clench suddenly, and an indescribable sharpness shot up his spine to the top of his head. At that moment, the pseudo-spiritual root on his back emitted an extremely piercing overload beep, and the dark red warning light flashed wildly, a shriek emitted by biological instinct when faced with an absolute dead end.

Wang Chong, who was less than five meters away from him, was even more deathly pale.

As a legitimate sword cultivator, his perception of sword intent was far more acute than that of a hunter like Lao Ding who had only recently entered the profession. The moment the rusty sword vibrated, he clearly felt that the natal sword energy he had painstakingly cultivated for many years was like a mouse seeing a cat, lying dormant deep within his dantian, its circulation becoming extremely sluggish.

Clang!

Clang!

The flying swords that the two cultivators behind Wang Chong were holding tightly suddenly slipped from their grasp and fell uncontrollably, crashing onto the rubble. The swords trembled violently and emitted a humming sound that sounded like a mournful cry.

Ten thousand swords bowed their heads!

This is not some ordinary obsession left by the dead, but the lingering power of the ancient sword path that still suppresses contemporary sword cultivators even after countless years!

"Retreat! Everyone, retreat ten steps away from the quiet room!"

Wang Chong's eyes were bloodshot, and he roared at the top of his lungs, then suddenly pushed off with his legs and desperately lunged backward.

But it was too late.

Inside the quiet room, the skeleton with its eyes closed did not stand up, nor did it make any unnecessary movements. The rusty ancient sword simply floated up from the skeleton's knees with an extremely casual air, its tip slightly angled, aimed at the group of intruders outside the door who were emanating various mixed energies.

There were no dazzling magical lights or shadows, nor any complicated sword techniques to begin.

Only a single, extremely pure, almost transparent gray sword aura slowly peeled away from the rusted sword's edge, sweeping out of the stone gate like a gentle breeze.

Minimalist.

Extremely ancient.

Extremely sharp.

This wisp of sword energy appeared slow, yet it seemed completely unaffected by distance. As soon as it appeared, it locked onto a hunter from the yellow zone who was retreating the slowest and a cultivator from the Wang family.

"Stop it!"

The Wang family cultivator was horrified and frantically channeled his remaining spiritual power, erecting three thick, azure spiritual energy shields in front of him. This orthodox defensive spell was powerful enough to withstand a full-force attack from a second-tier demonic beast.

The hunter in the yellow zone let out a beast-like roar, and the hydraulic pump on his leg exoskeleton instantly output maximum power, propelling him diagonally forward like a cannonball, while simultaneously holding the heavy blast shield mixed with tungsten steel firmly to his side.

laugh--

A very soft, very faint sound, like the sound of a hot knife cutting through butter.

The wisp of gray sword energy encountered no obstruction.

The three-layered azure spiritual energy shield that the Wang family cultivators were so proud of shattered without even a ripple the moment it came into contact with the sword energy, collapsing silently like a bubble. The sword energy pierced through his body, and the cultivator froze on the spot, a line of blood slowly splitting open between his brows before collapsing powerlessly to the ground, his life extinguished.

On the other side, the Yellow Zone hunter who tried to use the explosive power of his exoskeleton to dodge also failed to escape. The gray sword energy, like a malignant tumor, easily sliced ​​through the tungsten steel riot shield in his hand, which could even stop armor-piercing bullets, and severed his right arm at the shoulder.

One sword strike, cleaving through the spirit shield and shattering the alloy!

Whether it's the orthodox cultivation system that emphasizes the flow of spiritual energy, or the cyber wasteland route that is forcibly stitched together with machinery and demon blood, both appear crude and fragile in the face of this wisp of ancient sword energy.

"This sword energy... it almost completely ignores physical defenses and the material of the weapon?!"

Wang Chong stared intently at the gray sword aura still wandering among the ruins, his eyes twitching violently. He finally understood why the murals described the annihilation of 100,000 disciples of Mount Shu. This level of swordsmanship wasn't meant for ordinary cultivators and demonic beasts, but for slaying the terrifying beings within the "Heavenly Demonic Tribulation"!

"Brother Ding! This damn thing has locked us in!"

The remaining two hunters from the yellow zone were covered in cold sweat. They were horrified to discover that the gray sword energy that had severed their companion's arm had not dissipated. Instead, it twisted very lightly in mid-air, and the sword tip turned around again, aiming at Old Ding, who had the most vigorous blood and energy and whose pseudo-spiritual root shone the brightest.

The instinctive defense mechanism of the ancient sword technique is extremely simple.

Whoever possesses the most complex and violent energy poses the greatest threat.

Old Ding's body, which had fused with the blood and qi of a second-tier demon beast, stood before this quiet room filled with pure sword intent, like a blatant target of heresy.

"Grass!"

Old Ding cursed angrily, his eyes instantly turning bloodshot.

He didn't instinctively retreat like Wang Chong. Because he knew better than anyone that facing this ancient sword intent that could lock onto one's aura, exposing one's back was tantamount to wishing for a quick death.

"Suppressive firepower!!!"

As Old Ding roared, he advanced instead of retreating, stomping his feet on the ground and crushing a heavy bluestone slab. He then charged forward towards the deadly gray sword energy!

"Da da da da!"

Although the two hunters in the yellow zone were pale, they instinctively pulled the triggers. A dense barrage of psionic armor-piercing rounds slammed into the gray sword aura.

At the same time, Wang Chong bit his tongue, risking damage to his meridians, and forcibly condensed a strand of his natal true energy, transforming it into a semi-transparent sword shield to block in front of him.

Under the absolute threat of death, the two factions, the old and the new, who originally wanted to smash each other's brains out, surprisingly agreed to a brief ceasefire to deal with the truly deadly thing first.

Bang bang bang!

The armor-piercing bullet struck the gray sword energy, exploding into a shower of sparks. Although it failed to shatter the energy, it still managed to deflect its originally straight trajectory by a fraction of a millimeter.

After slaying two people, the gray sword energy was no longer as stable as it had been when it first left the gate, and its luster had noticeably dimmed.

It was this extremely slight decrease that gave Lao Ding a chance to fight for his life.

"Smash it for me!"

Old Ding rushed to the sword energy, and the dark red mutated scales on his left arm had all exploded.

He did not use his sword to block.

Because he knew that the knife couldn't block that level of sword intent.

He did something crazy that made Wang Chong's scalp tingle.

The next instant, Old Ding completely released all the instinctive defenses of his left arm, allowing the power of his pseudo-spiritual root to flow recklessly into his entire arm. In an instant, his left fist, which was already covered with demonic scales, suddenly swelled up, its veins bulging, its blood vessels dilating, and its skin membrane stretching so hard it creaked, as if it would explode on the spot at any moment.

He gripped his overloaded fist, his ferocity boiling with demonic blood, and with extreme brutality and irrationality, he fiercely attacked that wisp of gray sword energy!

Swoosh—Boom!

At the moment the fist and sword clashed, there was no earth-shattering sound, only the chilling sound of flesh being torn apart.

The gray sword energy sliced ​​through the tungsten steel armor on Old Ding's left fist as easily as cutting through a piece of rotten wood, shattering the hard scales and deeply piercing his finger bones and palm.

"Aaaaaaah!"

Old Ding let out a shrill, inhuman scream.

He could clearly feel that extremely sharp power was flowing along the meridians of his arm, frantically destroying his flesh, vitality, and the pseudo-spiritual root circuit within his body that maintained balance.

A large amount of blood gushed out from the pseudo-spiritual root interface.

Scalding blood splattered together with broken scales.

Old Ding's left arm was almost crippled on the spot by this sword. His fist was a bloody mess, half of his metacarpal bone was cut off, and his entire arm hung limply with only a few strands of muscle still barely holding it together.

It hurts so much.

It wasn't the usual pain of skin being torn open; it was a piercing pain that went straight to the bone marrow, almost drilling into the brain along the meridians, as if the entire arm had been stuffed into a millstone and crushed inch by inch.

For an ordinary person, this single blow would be enough to cause them to collapse on the spot.

But Lao Ding didn't quit.

His eyes were bloodshot, the veins on his face were bulging, and his teeth were clenched so tightly that they were grinding together. He stubbornly endured the excruciating pain that seemed to tear his soul apart, refusing to budge an inch.

"Damn it..."

Old Ding let out a low, beast-like growl, his mouth full of blood.

"Have you chopped enough?!"

Old Ding's eyes were completely bloodshot, his teeth were clenched so tightly they were grinding, and blood mixed with foam was even spilling from the corner of his mouth. He stared intently at the quiet room in front of him, then took a sudden half-step forward with his right leg, slamming his entire weight down on his nearly useless left arm!

Click.

That's the sound of bones breaking completely.

But at that very moment, the gray sword energy that had been unstoppable actually emitted a very faint buzzing sound under the forceful clash of the almost self-destructive consumption of flesh and blood, the demonic brute force, and the violent impact of the pseudo-spiritual root.

finally--

Less than three inches from Lao Ding's throat, it completely exhausted its last bit of strength and shattered into specks of gray light.

It's blocked.

With a half-crippled body, with the extreme overdraft of his pseudo-spiritual root, and with the most foolish, most painful, and most reckless hard-hitting, this Yellow Zone Hunter, who did not follow the orthodox path, managed to withstand a genuine ancient sword technique.

"madman……"

Wang Chong looked at Lao Ding, who was kneeling on the ground with his left arm almost entirely connected by skin and flesh, and his Adam's apple bobbed with difficulty.

He has always looked down on Huang Qu's "pseudo-Tao" which was forged with demon blood.

But just now, he knew better than anyone else that if he were the one standing in that position, there would be no other outcome than being cut in half by a sword.

"Cough...cough cough..."

Old Ding coughed up blood, swaying as he used his right hand to prop himself up with his sword, forcing himself not to fall.

He slowly raised his head, his gaze passing over the rubble on the ground, past Wang Chong's pale face, and fixed on the interior of the wide-open stone door of the quiet room.

Because of that reckless charge, he had become the person closest to the quiet room in the entire room.

In the dim light from inside the door, he finally saw the skeleton more clearly than anyone else.

Beneath the rusty hilt of the ancient sword, the skeletal finger, almost as white as jade, was quietly pressing down on a half-rolled ancient scroll made of some unknown material. The scroll's surface shimmered with a faint blue light, and its edges bore intricate and ancient patterns.

That was definitely not an ordinary jade slip.

Old Ding couldn't understand those array patterns, nor could he tell whether this thing was a sword manual, a sword technique, or some other weird thing.

But he knew at a glance that this thing was definitely no less valuable than the ancient pills and broken swords outside.

Even higher.

Most importantly, the two blurred ancient seal characters on the edge of the scroll were faintly visible in the dim light:

[...Sword Embryo].

Sword embryo.

Old Ding's breathing stopped for a moment.

He didn't understand the convoluted terminology of the ancient cultivation world, but after so many years in the black market, he knew at least one thing—anything with the word "fetus" attached to it was never cheap.

This thing, although it is not the ultimate Dao lineage that Shushan openly proclaims.

But it is definitely heavy enough.

"What is that...?"

Wang Chong obviously saw it from behind.

After a brief moment of fear, the greed that belonged to the direct descendants of powerful clans, to orthodox cultivators, and to the idea that "good things should rightfully fall into my hands" almost instantly reignited.

He stared intently at the half-rolled ancient scroll, his breathing becoming rapid.

"This kind of thing..."

Wang Chong slowly raised his hand. Even though his face was pale and his flying swords had all fallen, the light in his eyes became even more ruthless.

"It's none of your business to touch it."

Old Ding did not turn around.

He simply and very slowly, supporting himself with the knife, straightened his body little by little.

His almost completely useless left arm hung limply at his side, and the pseudo-spiritual root in his body had also dimmed. The dark red blood energy flickered on and off, as if it would be completely extinguished at any moment.

But the fierce glint in his eyes was brighter than ever before.

He had already stepped on the blood of his comrades, endured the first fierce blow of the ancient sword technique, and stood firmly in the position closest to this door.

"This time..."

Old Ding licked the blood from the corner of his mouth, his voice hoarse as if it had been ground on gravel.

He gripped the hilt of the knife tightly and slowly took a step forward with his right foot.

"I won't back down anymore..."