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The sword in Wang Yangming's hand surged, and flesh and blood flew everywhere in the crowd.
He's been dead for a long time.
The sword in his hand was extremely damaged, and dirty blood covered the once dazzling golden sword body.
Nearly ten thousand of the remaining forty thousand Saint Sons and Saint Weapons had died under his sword. The corpses were piled up into small hills, and fresh blood flowed out of the Sword Mausoleum like a stream.
"Wilde." King Ksitigarbha narrowed his eyes as he looked at the figure fighting among the purple monsters. He spat out two words.
The sturdy man behind him hesitated when he heard this. He glanced at King Ksitigarbha and did not act immediately.
"It's fine. I can't die. Go kill him. He's... tired too." King Ksitigarbha whispered, his usually ice-cold tone filled with a strangely complicated respect.
Indeed, the fact that a sword spirit could conceal itself from the world and prop up the entire Southern Desolate Sword Mausoleum on its own was something worthy of respect.
Apparently, the man called Wilde did not have so many thoughts. After hearing his words, the burly man revealed a sinister smile. He grinned and said, "Alright!"
As a result, his body quickly moved forward. Every time his feet touched the ground, the earth trembled as if it could not withstand his strength, and his speed immediately increased by a point.
In the blink of an eye, his speed had been raised to the limit.
The Saint Weapon Saint Son who was standing in front of him was brutally knocked away by him. His body jumped high and charged towards Wang Yangming, who had just cut off the heads of the three Saint Weapons, with an overwhelming might.
Wang Yangming was shocked and subconsciously wanted to draw his sword back.
However, he was truly too tired. The speed of his return was much slower than usual, and when experts fought, they were always a thousand li away from him.
Ling Lie's fist smashed into Wang Yangming's chest fiercely with a power that was enough to split a mountain and break a stone.
Boom!
A muffled sound exploded.
At that moment, Wang Yangming's body retreated.
At that time, the golden sword began to spread out like a poisonous snake.
Intense pain spread throughout Wang Yangming's body. He smelled death. He didn't feel any pain. Instead, some of the doubts that had puzzled him for a thousand years were suddenly resolved at that moment.
...
A thousand years ago.
Unwilling to accept the decline of the royal power, the old king of Dali Dynasty led two hundred thousand remnants of the army towards the Sword Mausoleum.
They wanted to retrieve the fierce sword and reorganize the rivers and mountains of the Dali Dynasty.
One side carried the hatred of the country's enemies, while the other followed the contract that had been made since ancient times. So some things are inevitable...
On that day, the Sword Qi outside the Mausoleum of the Sword spread out, and the sword light was as dazzling as stars.
On that day, 200,000 corpses covered the wilderness outside the Mausoleum of the Sword. It was vast and boundless like an endless purgatory of bones.
Finally, the old man knelt on the ground after removing the head of the Sovereign of Destruction with a single sword strike.
A boy's phantom suddenly appeared in front of the old man. He lowered his head and looked at the old man whose aura was gradually weakening. He asked with a complicated expression, "Are you going to die?"
The old man raised his head and looked at the boy's eyes, which were the same as his when he was young, with a difficult smile on his face. He nodded and replied, "Yes."
The boy frowned and pondered for a long time, but he didn't know how to deal with this kind of separation, so he could only ask after thinking for a long time, "Then what should I do?"
Hearing this, the old man struggled to stand up from the ground. The boy was very sensible and extended his hand to help the old man up. One old man and one young man slowly passed through the sandstorm in the Southern Wilderness and the corpse of the tears outside the Sword Mausoleum and entered the Sword Mausoleum.
The old man sat down, then extended his hand and pointed at Jian Lingyan, "The sword intent in the mausoleum is abundant. Are you nourished by the sword intent here? Even without me, you can still live well."
The boy was a little confused. He looked at the swords lying quietly under the yellow sand in the Mausoleum of Swords and asked, "Just like them?"
The old man frowned. He realized something, but in the end, he could only say truthfully, "Yes, just like them."
After saying that, the old man seemed to be afraid of being questioned by the boy again, so he said, "I've got two decent disciples from Mount Li and Linglong Pavilion. They're probably already on their way here. You have to teach them well in the future."
"As a Sword Spirit, explaining your comprehension of the Dao of the Sword to them will be beneficial to them in the future."
"I..." The old man suddenly stretched out his hand and gently leaned against the boy's shoulder. "I'm a little tired. Sleep for a while."
"In the future, I'll have to trouble you, old man."
That day, the boy sat in the Mausoleum of the Sword for an entire night, and the old man slept beside him for an entire night. The old man never woke up from his sleep.
The 36,000 Sword Mausoleum Burial Swords meant that there were 36,000 Sword Spirits in the Mausoleum.
But these 36,000 sword spirits were different from the boys.
Yes, he was the one destined to be different.
Wei Changming took his sword and melted it into money. Copper coins spread out across the world, and the tiny copper coin almost circulated in the world.
It could be a beggar's life force, a reward given by the Dragon Beauty Grand Joy, a toy or a gourd that a child's eyes or mouth were greedy for, or a bunch of gourds. It can be a lot of things. He witnessed the despair, joy, hope, and anger of the human world.
His sword had endured all of this, and he could feel it as well.
Therefore, compared to ordinary sword spirits, he had seen more, thought more, and felt more.
So after burying the old man's corpse, he walked to the swords buried in the Mausoleum of the Swords one by one. He talked to them and said his confusion, "What exactly is a person?"
He once traversed the world with the old man. When they were young, they traveled far with their swords in hand. When they encountered injustice, they unsheathed their swords, and when they encountered fellow daoists, they drank wine loudly.
Although there were thousands of mountains and rivers under the heavens, they all traveled together.
He liked that kind of day. He walked step by step. Looking at it from place to place, it seemed that there was nothing troubling in this world. If there was anything, then he could just draw his sword.
But as the days passed, the once spirited youth finally arrived at the Immortal Realm as he wished. He became stronger, but he also became old. His body began to stoop, and white frost appeared on his temples. He no longer led him around the world. Instead, he stayed on the Mount Li all day long, sighing and drinking to ease his worries.
To be honest, boys don't like that kind of day.
So he often flew in front of him, opened his hand and handed himself, and said, "Well, let's go to the world again."
The old man shook his head and touched his head, "I can't walk anymore."
After that, the old man put down everything and chatted with the old man who had picked him up, he arrived at the Sword Spirit himself.
The Sword Mausoleum was lonely, but the boy didn't feel anything. As long as he was by his side, it would be enough for the Sword Spirit. However, the old man did not become happy because of this. He often sat alone outside the Mausoleum of the Sword and looked at the north. There were his sects, his homeland, and many others like him.
The boy was very puzzled. Since he was unhappy, why did he still stay in the Sword Spirit? He clearly remembered that when the old man was still a teenager, he had told him that in this lifetime, in just a few dozen years, a person would have to live a carefree and happy life. What kind of people live under the heavens, what kind of sect inheritance is his mother's bullshit. In this lifetime, having a sword and wine is enough. Who cares about the thousands of miles behind me!
But why did the old man forget all that he had said when he was young?
Not only did he forget his carefree happiness, he also died here for the sword mausoleum. At that time, he was extremely old and miserable. The boy could no longer find the shadow of the youth from back then from his body.
He was very confused. He had asked all the swords in the Mausoleum of the Sword, but none of them could give him an answer.
Therefore, he turned into an old man and survived as an old man. He had seen the descendants of the Sword Mausoleum from generation to generation. He taught them how to cultivate swords and led them to guard the Sword Mausoleum. Generation after generation, the people who came to the Mausoleum of the Sword were unhappy, but they all wrote the words "guard the Mausoleum of the Sword" in their hearts. He watched them change from youth to middle age, from middle age to old man, and he watched them come and send them to their deaths.
He was puzzled by their persistence and didn't understand their persistence.
What kind of person was he? Such a question had puzzled him for a thousand years. Until this moment, death had finally arrived on his body, and he had gained some enlightenment.
The cracks on the sword's body were dense, and what he saw and saw in the thousand years that he had transformed into copper coins also entered Wang Yangming's mind at that moment.
The sorrow of the world and the sorrow of the world came at that time.
People were really stupid things. They knew that they were going to die, but they still had to work hard to live. He clearly knew that when they were together, they would eventually turn into life and death, but he still had to risk his life to meet each other...
However, he might be able to work hard and die peacefully. Only then could he truly live a life like this.
Wang Yangming suddenly realized something. He understood the old man's life and what kind of person he was.
"What a beautiful world." He muttered. He suddenly felt that this thousand years of protection was no longer as difficult as he had imagined. To be able to protect such a world was actually a blessing for him. At least in the end he understood the question, and an indescribable sense of comfort spread through his body, filling him with warmth as if he had been enlightened.
Morning News said, dying on the eve of death.
Thinking of this, he suddenly laughed.
At that time, his body, which was flying backwards, landed on the ground with a loud explosion and smashed fiercely onto the ground.
"Dead?" Wilde, who was more than nine feet tall, shook his head in displeasure when he saw the old man who couldn't stand up, as if he hadn't had enough fun yet.
But very quickly, he turned his gaze to Xu Han and Meng Liang, who were not far away and were closing their eyes and crossing their knees, surrounded by sword intent. He stuck out his tongue and licked his lips. He smiled sinisterly and said, "It's your turn."
After saying those words, he took a step forward. At that time, the remaining 30,000 purple monsters beside him also swarmed towards the place where Xu Han and the others were under the control of the skinny cultivator.
Xuan'er stood up, her dark hair standing up like a sharp needle. Aowu let out a long howl, and his figure became huge again. He could not help but let out a low roar. At that time, Qin Keqing also stopped in front of Xu Han and Meng Liang. Her clothes fluttered, and some kind of black light surged out. Her killing intent was cold.
But even though they had put on airs and showed enough determination, Wilde obviously didn't put them in his eyes. At that time, he extended his hand and smiled sinisterly, wanting to go to Qin Keqing, who was standing in front of the team.
He could twist this woman up properly and watch her struggle in his hands. Gradually, she lost her breath and finally died.
He enjoyed the feeling so much that a fanatical expression surged between his eyebrows.
But in the next moment, this fanatical expression suddenly froze at that moment.
A golden sword light flashed past, flashing at an astonishing speed. Then, a bloody scar appeared on the arm that he stretched out from where the white light flashed. The bloody scar spread and wrapped around his arm
Then, with a soft sound, his arm fell off his shoulder with an extremely flat cut.
Wilde was stunned. He stared blankly at his empty shoulder, then at the arm that landed on the ground. Then, he turned his head and stared blankly not far away.
Standing there was the owner of the sword light-an old man. His clothes were white and his hair was meticulous. His eyebrows shone with divine light like stars. He held a sword in his hand. The golden light of the sword shone brightly like the dazzling sun.
He was Wang Yangming!
Wilde was stunned. He didn't understand why the shabby-looking old man suddenly had his essence energy. His entire body seemed to have never experienced the great battle just now. It was as if he had been carefully taken care of and was about to participate in a grand ceremony. His sword, which was supposed to be shattered, had also become flawless at this moment, unable to find the slightest bit of damage.
'"You" Wilde said, but when he said that, he suddenly stopped.
Nobody did anything to interrupt him, but the scene in front of him made it impossible for him to utter a single word.
It was a truly soul-stirring scenery.
The old man's entire body emitted a golden light, and boundless sword intent surged out from his body. They surrounded the old man in a mighty manner, constantly circling around and singing happily, like the birds of the phoenix or the stars of the moon.
Then, the vast sword intent gathered more and more around the old man's body, and finally, it almost condensed into substance.
However, this was only the beginning of this phenomenon.
Suddenly, the gathered sword intent seemed as if it could no longer suppress the violent power within their bodies.
Clang!
With a loud sword cry, the sword intent lingering around the old man suddenly soared into the sky. The sword intent gathered together and transformed into a golden pillar of light. They tore apart the dense darkness of the Southern Wilderness like a bull pulled out from a dry land, and then transformed into a golden dragon that soared into the nine heavens.
"This is" The Ksitigarbha King's eyebrows suddenly gushed with a wisp of horror that he had never felt before. His mouth opened slightly, wanting to say something, but he did not say it out loud.
He looked at the sword spirit named Wang Yangming and his face bathed in the golden ocean. He was surprised to discover that something was happening to his face.
The wrinkles began to dissipate, and the deep sockets of his eyes began to bulge. A head of white hair spread out from the roots, and his bent body gradually straightened up.
His white robes also began to spread out from the inside out.
Suddenly, it was hard for him to tell whether the person standing in front of him was a sword spirit that had lived for a thousand years or a god!
Thinking of this, King Ksitigarbha's body suddenly trembled. His open mouth finally spat out a sound, but it roared in a hoarse and frightened manner.
"He's going to become an immortal!"
The skinny cultivator who drove the tens of thousands of monsters frowned. Wilde, who was nine feet tall, had a gloomy expression on his face.
They didn't quite understand what King Ksitigarbha was talking about, but they could feel the aura emanating from Wang Yangming's body. The aura wasn't too violent, but it carried a majesty that could suppress the heavens and the earth. It was like a king looking down on his subjects, like a god looking down at a creature.
After breaking through the layers of mist, the golden dragon finally arrived at the dome.
However, it seemed to have encountered some obstacles, unable to penetrate this last layer of shackles. The dragon began to roar, roar, and continuously hit the dome with its body, as if it was about to break through the cage of a trapped beast.
He tried again and again, but to no avail.
That was the last barrier that the immortals in the sky had set up to prevent mortals from ascending to the Immortal Realm. For many years, they had been defeated by this barrier. Only by lowering their heads to the immortals in the sky and waiting for his permission would they be able to take this final step.
It seemed that Wang Yangming had also encountered this kind of trouble...
"Mora!" "Mora!" "Mora!"
But at this moment, pious shouts suddenly sounded from the Southern Wilderness. Those were the barbarians scattered in the Southern Wilderness. They saw the golden dragon soaring into the sky in the night. They felt that it was a miracle from Mora. So they all knelt down and shouted at Mora, offering their highest and most sincere respect.
Such cries were pulled to the Southern Wilderness by some sort of hidden will. Golden things flowed out of the barbarians' bodies and finally gathered the golden ocean into the golden dragon.
The Golden Dragon's possession of this item was like a fish in water, like a tiger in the wind.
As a result, the True Dragon rose from the clouds and its sword intent rose to the ground.
At that time, the golden dragon that was several times larger let out a long howl as it raised its head towards the sky. The enormous dragon's roar spread out from the mausoleum of the sword like a giant yellow bell, resounding throughout the southern wilderness.
Afterwards, its body paused and it charged straight up to the dome again.
Boom!
Within the golden light that filled the sky, the invisible but real barrier on the dome broke open, and the shackles of the immortals in the sky that had existed for tens of thousands of years collapsed at that moment.
There seemed to be a sound from the heavens and earth, like rain hitting the eaves, like the wind passing through the mountains, and like the eastward flow of the great river. You couldn't tell what that sound was, but you could feel the mystery in it. This kind of mystery was almost indescribable.
Then, waves of power that implied the principles of heaven and earth rushed over from the heavens and earth, quickly pouring into Wang Yangming's body.
Wang Yangming, who had already turned into a teenager, slowly opened his eyes. His pair of incomparably clear eyes seemed to have stars flickering in them, as if they were rotating between the sun and the moon.
"He … he succeeded …" King Ksitigarbha's voice trembled as he spoke.
He was surprised that it wasn't a fuss. How many monstrous geniuses had chased after this path for thousands of years, yet they ended up depressed? There were countless corpses buried in this path to the heavens. Even a character like Wei Changming was defeated by the layers of obstructions set up by the True Immortals.
And today, right in front of his eyes, a sword spirit broke through the shackles of heaven and earth, using his own strength to prove the Immortal Dao.
As if to respond to his thoughts, a gentle white light shone down from the dome, illuminating Wang Yangming's head at this moment.
A figure bathed in white light landed in front of Wang Yangming. He looked at Wang Yangming with a smile, as if an elder was looking at a junior.
He stretched out his hand towards Wang Yangming and said softly.
"Thou hast cultivated bitterly for a thousand years, and obtained this great dao."
"Thousand Years Watch, you have obtained this merit."
"Your dao is awesome, your heart is clear. If I teach you the dao today, can you be a True Immortal?"