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Translator: Deathblade
Editor: Chesire Phoenix
The depths of the Halls of Heaven were filled with hidden spell formations. In fact, even the dust motes in the air had them. Someone who inhaled such a dust mote would be inhaling a deadly trap. Even an expert with a psychic scale of a hundred billion who did so would end up dead through and through.
If it weren’t for how deadly the Halls of Heaven were, it would have already been looted clean by experts from the three dynasties. There wasn’t anyone who didn’t drool over the idea of getting what the halls had to offer.
Sadly, from ancient times until now, any hero who got too close to them ended up dead. And those who didn’t die from the initial contact were cursed horribly, ending up with such bad luck that they would eventually die.
Not a single expert had ever entered this place.
Thankfully, Yang Qi had the God Legion Seal. That said, he still wouldn’t underestimate the place. He knew that there were spell formations everywhere, and that even inhaling a mote of dust could prove deadly.
About half of the deadly formations could simply be dismantled by the God Legion Seal. The other half required Yang Qi to use special means to avoid. As long as he did that, and didn’t touch anything, he wouldn’t have any trouble traveling about, as he had the blood of the King of Godmammoths.
But doing any sort of looting was going to be difficult.
He could sense that even the blades of grass had been put in place according to a special design. Everything conformed to the dao of heaven and earth, and the quintessence of the universe. Even the floor tiles seemed uncharacteristically rare and special.
Yang Qi wasn’t going to take any sort of action blithely, as he knew that disturbing the structure of the Halls of Heaven would provoke a deadly attack.
He could only go about his search slowly and carefully.
Thus, he followed the guidance of the Mahātmā Jade, flying along with immense caution.
As he proceeded along the roads in the Halls of Heaven, he passed pagodas, kiosks, palaces, wide avenues, enormous public squares, and every one was as beautiful as could be imagined.
He saw a flower garden filled with fresh blooming flowers, and he recognized many of them: flowers of illusion, flowers of karma, flowers of good and evil, flowers of time, flowers of the five phases, and others. All of them were vying with each other in terms of glamor and beauty, and some of them had even borne fruit.
Yang Qi could create things like these with primal-chaos explosions. And he didn't dare attempt to pick any of these flowers or fruits. Instead, he remained completely focused on finding the piece of the Mahātmā Jade.
After all, the jade wasn’t fundamentally part of the Halls of Heaven, so taking it wouldn’t provoke a reaction. Once he got the jade, and his psychic scale increased, the God Legion Seal would give him a deeper connection to and understanding of the Halls of Heaven, and then getting such treasures would be much easier.
He still hadn’t reached the ultimate limit of what the God Legion Seal had to offer.
The interior of the Halls of Heaven had countless pathways that twisted and turned. There were bridges that spanned streams, twisting corridors, and numerous sights to see. But he didn’t waste time on sightseeing.
Several hours later, he stepped out into a wide public square, covered with bronze floor tiles. And a bronze temple sat at the other end, pulsing with the energy of the Mahātmā Jade.
‘Hmm. This is a treasure storehouse alright. There are a lot of places like this throughout the Halls of Heaven. Too many to count. But why does this one seem to be in disrepair?’
The main gate was halfway collapsed, and it bore the aura of ancient devils, as well as the musty smell of age.
It seemed this was a place in the Halls of Heaven that had suffered an attack by the True Devil. Either that, or when the Mahātmā Jade exploded, one of the pieces landed here and caused the destruction.
Yang Qi immediately headed toward the entrance, which was mostly in ruins. However, his heart pounded as he knew that the Mahātmā Jade was here, and that he was about to get it.
He stepped inside, to find that it was pitch black. However, he could still see, and at the far end, embedded deeply in the wall, was a piece of jade that was the exact shape of one of the missing pieces in his collection.
“Excellent,” he murmured, his heart pounding in his chest. Once he got this piece, all he needed was the piece from the Central Dynasty.
That said, he wasn’t about to let his guard down now.
Walking further inside, he opened his Lord's Eye to scan the area for danger.
The vital energy here was in chaos, and was thoroughly intermingled with the aura of devils.
The place was completely empty, as though it had been wiped clean by a single destructive blast. Obviously, when the Mahātmā Jade had hit this place, the force released had destroyed the other magical treasures that existed there, transforming them into nothing but ash.
Approaching the bronze wall, he reached out toward the depression, whereupon the Mahātmā Jade started trembling. Then, cracking sounds rang out as sections of the wall crumbled and fell off.
Finally, the jade shot out into his hand.
‘Alright,’ he thought, although he kept his heart calm and at ease.
However, even as he prepared to assimilate the piece of the jade, he sensed something being him, a beam of sword light stabbing toward him with unexpected speed.
“That’s....”
There was no time to contemplate what dao of the sword this was, or where it came from. It wasn’t King Life-Killer’s sword, nor was it that of Star Swordlife.
King Life-Killer’s dao of the sword was about pure killing.
Star Swordlife’s dao of the sword was about pure life.
As for this dao of the sword, it was about the pure sword.
This was a true dao of the sword, something that could truly be called a sword technique. As it stabbed toward him, Yang Qi suddenly came to understand the true meaning of the dao of the sword. He finally understood its ultimate meaning.
Swords weren’t life. Nor were they destruction. Swords were swords. There was nothing really complicated about them. They were a weapon, and they were a concept.
“Dammit....” he murmured as the sword seemed ready to eradicate every aspect of his life force. All of a sudden, his eternally indestructible soul seemed like a mere candle flickering in the wind.
Of course, Yang Qi wasn’t an ordinary person. At this moment in which he faced sudden death, in which catastrophe loomed, the Mahātmā Jade suddenly vanished from his palm.
It became a stream of thought that shot into his mind, whereupon his entire person vanished, replaced by the fluctuations of kalpas and tribulations, completely lacking in fear.
“Your sword; my will,” a voice spoke.
Yang Qi's thoughts expelled the sword energy, and then his body formed again, and his psychic scale was climbing. He had devoured the Mahātmā Jade!
Creak. Crack....
His psychic scale instantly jumped from sixty billion to seventy billion! It was an increase of ten billion! And it had occurred as easily as if he had just taken a drink of water.
Looking off into the distance, Yang Qi murmured, “Lord of the Sword Dao. Who would’ve guessed that you’re not actually dead? You’re here in the Halls of Heaven. You have my admiration. That sword alone would have killed anyone other than me, even someone with a psychic scale of a hundred billion. Sadly for you, I was already fusing with the Mahātmā Jade. In order to destroy me, you would have had to destroy the jade. In other words, without destroying the jade, you can’t destroy me.”
“I’m truly shocked that the world has changed in this way in the past hundreds of millions of years....” As the voice drifted into the room, a tall, burly man walked in, holding a sword in his hand.
He looked like a lonely wanderer, the type that wouldn't have a home or friends to return to. It was as if he didn’t even belong in the world of ordinary men, nor in this universe. He was desolate, lonesome, and the type of nomad no one could ever understand. He didn't carry a vat of alcohol, as he didn’t rely on alcohol to dispel his melancholy. He only relied on his sword.
He almost didn’t look like the enigmatic master killer that the Sovereign Lord had employed, the famous Lord of the Sword Dao, top member of the God-Lords. He looked more like a down-and-out assassin from the impure lands.
However, within his eyes was a darkness like that of the resplendent chill of nightfall.
This was definitely the most powerful expert Yang Qi had ever encountered, someone whose experiences surpassed even that of Proud Heaven.
This was a true swordsman. Compared to him, Star Swordlife’s sword of life was like absolutely nothing.