“It seems one war corpse isn’t enough—I’ll have to summon another. They can’t be taken out anyway, so using them to stall Xue Tu will do.”
Watching Zhang Ruochen speed toward the snow-covered mountain, Luo Yi summoned a second war corpse.
In the secret area, he’d only found two Great Saint corpses, and now both were deployed—surely enough to delay Xue Tu for a while.
The second Great Saint war corpse was gaunt and elderly in appearance, wielding two longswords with razor-sharp precision.
“Two mere Great Saint war corpses dare to obstruct me? Turn to ashes!” Xue Tu roared, his body radiating thick bloodthirsty energy that morphed into roaring flames, merging with the Inferno Purgatory Tower.
His mastery over the tower stemmed from his command of purgatory fire—a fearsome flame rivaling the Pure Extinguishing Divine Fire, mastered by few.
A deluge of purgatory fire erupted from the tower, engulfing the two war corpses and reducing them to ash, swords included.
“Boom.”
A fireball of purgatory flame shot out, crashing into the secret area where Luo Yi had stood.
The mountain peak collapsed, but Luo Yi was already gone.
Xue Tu didn’t bother searching, instead driving the Inferno Tower to pursue Zhang Ruochen and his group.
Deep within the secret area, Luo Yi reappeared, murmuring, “Zhang Ruochen, I trust you won’t die so easily.”
Meanwhile, just as Xue Tu closed in, Zhang Ruochen and his companions reached the base of the snow mountain.
“Why’d you stop running?” Xue Tu sneered down at them, his face alight with a cruel grin.
To him, their halt signaled despair—nowhere left to flee.
Zhang Ruochen looked up, his voice ringing clear, “Because next, it’ll be you who flees.”
As he spoke, the Sky-Soaring Sword appeared in his hand, countless sword path rules converging toward him.
“Please, ancestral masters, aid me against this great foe,” Zhang Ruochen called, rising into the air, invoking the lineage of the Sky-Soaring Sword’s past masters.
At that moment, every sword on the ground pointed toward him, trembling slightly as if paying homage.
This was the mark of a Sword Saint—ten thousand swords bowing in respect.
From between the layered clouds came an aged voice, “The Undying Blood Clan dares trespass into the sword tomb—kill without mercy.”
Instantly, powerful auras emerged, forming sixteen humanoid shadows—the holy souls of the Sky-Soaring Sword lineage’s sixteen ancestral masters.
“Holy Soul Possession.”
The sixteen souls surged toward Zhang Ruochen, merging into a thousand-zhang-tall holy figure radiating majestic authority.
Zhang Ruochen hovered at the figure’s brow, enveloped in waves of potent holy energy, his body brimming with power.
When he first came to the sword tomb as a First-Rank Half-Saint, he could only borrow one ancestral soul. Now, he could harness all sixteen.
Once, Ling Feiyu had borrowed the holy souls of the Heaven-Burying Sword lineage to battle the Blue Sky Blood Emperor, sacrificing herself to thwart the Undying Blood Clan’s attempt to free Pluto.
Now, it was his turn to bear this duty—the mission of a Sword Bearer.
“Hmm?” Xue Tu’s eyes flickered with surprise.
He could sense Zhang Ruochen’s aura surging, now rivaling an Immortal Great Saint after merging with the sixteen souls.
“Spirits belong in their graves. Dare to obstruct me? Then vanish from this world forever,” Xue Tu said disdainfully, his killing intent erupting.
Even with Zhang Ruochen bolstered to Immortal Great Saint level by the souls, Xue Tu didn’t see him as a threat.
He’d defeated true Immortal Great Saints—what was this borrowed power?
“Step back—I may not be able to protect you next,” Zhang Ruochen said gravely.
They all understood that intervening now would only hinder him, not help.
Without hesitation, they retreated, clearing a vast battlefield for him.
The sixteen ancestral souls channeled the spiritual energy of heaven and earth, funneling it into Zhang Ruochen. His power swelled, transforming into a multicolored chaotic mist.
With his current realm, his Five Elements Chaos Body had grown immensely, capable of bearing vast holy power.
“Whoosh.”
The sword spirit awoke.
The Sky-Soaring Sword blazed with blinding light, drawing myriad sword path rules.
In an instant, the area around Zhang Ruochen became a sea of swords, ten thousand blades soaring as he stood like an emperor of the sword path, supreme and unmatched.
“Is this the power of a Great Saint?” Zhang Ruochen murmured, a surge of boldness rising within him.
This was his absolute domain—he wouldn’t let Xue Tu pass.
Raising the Sky-Soaring Sword, a mighty sword domain expanded outward.
“Sword Nine.”
He swung the sword, unleashing Sword Nine.
Though he hadn’t fully grasped its final mysteries, its power was still formidable.
The countless ancient swords around him shot forth, guided by his sword intent into a torrential river of blades.
This Sword Nine, amplified by ancestral power and the sword tomb’s rules, far surpassed his usual execution.
Xue Tu stood atop the Inferno Tower, summoning a flood of purgatory fire and striking with a fist.
“Boom.”
The fiery fist clashed with the sword torrent, unleashing apocalyptic force.
The fist disintegrated, and the sword torrent vanished.
In moments, both attacks dissipated, neither gaining the upper hand.
“Purgatory Fire God Fist,” Zhang Ruochen muttered, locking eyes with Xue Tu.
This fist technique, learned through the Inferno Tower, was tyrannical—few peers could withstand a single blow.
“True One Thunder-Fire Sword Technique.”
Zhang Ruochen pressed on, striking again.
With ancestral power, he wielded their lineage’s *True One Thunder-Fire Sword Technique*—its might maximized.
The ancestral masters had all mastered this technique to profound levels, their sword intents resonating.
Xue Tu countered with the Purgatory Fire God Fist, its unpredictable variations carrying earth-shaking, soul-rending power.
The two clashed fiercely, their terrifying forces rippling outward.
Yet the sword tomb’s unique nature contained the destruction—otherwise, their first exchange might have sunk it.
“Xue Tu is indeed formidable, retaining such strength even in the sword tomb,” Bao Lie said solemnly.
Ji Fanxin’s eyes glinted, “He’s strong, no doubt, but his current power owes much to the Inferno Tower. It’s a complete supreme sacred artifact with a powerful spirit, greatly offsetting the tomb’s suppression.”
“His Highness is a sword cultivator, wielding the ancestral power of the Sky-Soaring Sword lineage—he’ll surely defeat Xue Tu.”
Murong Yue spoke with unwavering faith in Zhang Ruochen.
Since following him, she’d seen him overcome every foe, no matter how daunting.
“Pity the Metal Demon Crown lacks a spirit, or I’d crush that punk,” Xiang Chunan fretted, helpless.
He’d always used supreme artifacts to dominate foes—now, he was the one being overpowered.
The difference between a supreme artifact with a spirit and one without was vast.
In the hands of a top powerhouse, a spirited artifact could slay gods—like the God-Slaying Cross Shield, which had once pinned a deity.
Divine artifacts were rare in the universe; even gods mostly wielded supreme sacred artifacts.
Yet for some reason, the supreme artifacts passed down in Kunlun Realm had lost their spirits, limiting their power.
“If Zhang Ruochen can’t defeat Xue Tu, we may have to abandon the sword tomb,” Ji Fanxin said gravely.
If they couldn’t win, they wouldn’t stay to die.
As the saying goes, “As long as the green hills remain, there’s no fear of lacking firewood.”
Shi Qiankun’s face darkened, fists clenched, eyes fixed on Zhang Ruochen.
As clan leader, surrendering the sword tomb to the Undying Blood Clan would leave him no face to meet his ancestors.
He lamented the clan’s decline—no supreme powerhouse remained to guard it.
Atop a peak, Xia Wenzin, the Nine-Eyed Heavenly King, and others appeared, observing the battle from afar.
The Undying Blood Clan army had regrouped, ready to strike once the fight concluded.
“The sword tomb’s waters run deep. Good thing we didn’t charge in first, or we’d have been in trouble,” the Nine-Eyed Heavenly King mused, brow furrowed.
Zhang Ruochen, fused with ancestral souls, was overwhelmingly powerful—beyond his ability to counter.
Xia Wenzin smiled faintly, “The sword tomb has six Sword Bearers, each wielding immense power within it. Zhang Ruochen is just one.”
“The six swords they hold are keys to freeing Lord Pluto. Long ago, our ten great tribes in Kunlun Realm expended great effort to seize five, leaving only Zhang Ruochen’s Sky-Soaring Sword unclaimed.”
“If all six were present, guarding the tomb together, that’d be the real challenge.”
Before the assault, he’d thoroughly studied the tomb, knowing even Xue Tu couldn’t easily conquer it.
Since Xue Tu was so eager to lead, Xia Wenzin was content to let him take the brunt—unconcerned about losing credit.
“Zhang Ruochen, you can’t stop me.”
Xue Tu growled, hurling the Inferno Tower forward.
Unable to kill Zhang Ruochen quickly, he’d lost patience, unwilling to drag this out.
Even a true Immortal Great Saint would fall to the tower—let alone Zhang Ruochen’s borrowed power.
All who stood in his way would die.
