novelsky Chapter 860: Please Call the Execution Platform
Chapter 860: Please Call the Execution Platform
One step.Just one step, and he crossed the boundary between life and death, stepping out of that lethal thunder prison.
But he didn't go far.
He stood outside the encirclement, his back to the thirty-six Thunder Generals whose expressions were panicked, suffering from the backlash of their formation.
The wind lifted the tattered hem of his garment.
Chen Huaian slowly turned around.
That look in his eyes had changed.
No longer the drunkenness of a wild scholar, but rather—the indifference of a farmer looking at weeds.
"Since you've come."
The sword in his hand slowly leveled before him.
"Then all of you can stay."
Above the Nine Heavens, immortal music wildly clamored.
"Are we truly..."
The sword's edge was pushed forward horizontally.
No sword light was seen, no sound of a sword's cry was heard.
This sword was as plain and unadorned as an autumn breeze sweeping across a desolate plain.
But in the eyes of those thirty-six Thunder Generals, this sword transformed into the entire world.
Everything between heaven and earth vanished, leaving only that one continuously expanding, bleakly pale autumn wind.
Before that autumn wind, their proudly worn violet-gold heavy armor, their lofty Divine Positions, even their immortal bodies cultivated for ten thousand years...
All became as lowly and fragile as weeds by the roadside.
"... mere weeds and thatch!"
Whoosh—
The wind passed.
The sword stopped.
Clack—!
Chen Huaian sheathed his sword, standing behind the thirty-six Thunder Generals.
Between heaven and earth, there was a deathly silence.
It felt like a very long time had passed, yet also as if only an instant had gone by.
Crack.
The first crisp sound came.
A violet-gold protective forehead guard on one Thunder General's brow split open with a fine crack.
Immediately after.
Plop, plop, plop…
An unbroken series of soft sounds, like ripe fruit falling from a branch.
Thirty-six heads, at the same moment, with the most humble posture of their lives, rolled into the dust.
No blood gushed forth.
Because the "intent" of that sword had long ago, even before the heads hit the ground, swept away the life force within their bodies as cleanly as an autumn wind sweeping away fallen leaves.
Corpses lay strewn across the field, only one man remained.
Chen Huaian stood atop the pile of corpses, not even glancing at the bodies.
As if what he had just slain was truly nothing more than a clump of insignificant weeds and thatch.
Thirty-six Thunder Generals, annihilated.
Boom—
Chen Huaian took a deep breath, circulating the Heavenly Demon Art.
Thirty-six streams of pure Thunder Ministry Immortal Power surged into his body like a hundred rivers returning to the sea.
His aura once again swelled explosively, that recently condensed True Immortal Golden Body grew even more dazzling, even faintly exuding a pressure belonging to a "Celestial Immortal."
"This... this is impossible?!"
Not far away, the Four Heavenly Kings who had been overseeing from the rear and hadn't had time to intervene, now each had faces as pale as death, looking utterly bereaved.
Those were the elite of the Thunder Ministry!
When arrayed in formation, even a Great Luo Golden Immortal would have to avoid their sharp edge.
Yet before this "mortal Sword Cultivator" who had just ascended, they were actually slaughtered to the last man in less time than it takes to drink a cup of tea, as easily as cutting melons and chopping vegetables?!
"Virūḍhaka! What are you still standing there for?!"
Vaiśravaṇa, Mo Li Hong, roared, the Primordial Chaos Pearl Umbrella in his hand opening wide, blotting out the sky, "This brat is demonic and evil! Fighting alone is no match! Join forces to suppress him!"
"Fine!"
Virūḍhaka, Mo Li Qing, gritted his teeth, the Azure Cloud Sword in his hand was offered up, transforming into a myriad rain of swords.
Dhṛtarāṣṭra, Mo Li Hai, strummed the jasper lute, earth, water, fire, and wind surged forth together.
Virūpākṣa, Mo Li Shou, released the Purple-Gold Flower-Fox Marten, transforming into a heaven-devouring giant beast.
The Four Heavenly Kings moved together, their treasures fully displaying their Divine Abilities.
For a time, outside the South Heaven Gate, wind and clouds changed color, all manner of destructive torrents of Laws surged toward Chen Huaian, threatening to drown him.
However.
Chen Huaian still did not move.
He merely watched quietly as those overwhelming attacks came, the wildness in his eyes gradually receding, replaced by an extreme coldness.
"All flash, no substance."
He slowly raised the thunder sword in his hand.
This time, he did not recite poetry.
Because this sword did not need poetry.
It only needed... to shatter.
—Immortal-Slaying Sword-Drawing Art · Third Realm · Shatter the Dao Fruit.
Zheng—!!!
A sword light impossible to describe lit up.
It had no brilliant colors, only a purity to the extreme of "annihilation" intent.
Where the sword light passed.
The Azure Cloud sword rain shattered.
Earth, water, fire, and wind dissipated.
The Flower-Fox Marten shrieked once, cleaved into two halves.
The Primordial Chaos Pearl Umbrella was torn open with a huge gash, all its spiritual nature lost.
"Pfft—!!"
The Four Heavenly Kings simultaneously sprayed out a mouthful of golden blood, their expressions withered. Their treasures damaged and the backlash instantly inflicted severe injuries upon them.
"This... what kind of sword technique is this?!"
A hundred cycles of reincarnation, and he had never heard of such a terrifying sword technique.
In those hundred cycles of reincarnation, there were not a few Sword Cultivators like the one before him who had killed their way up to the heavens, but those were all within their control—they allowed them to kill their way up, and those people could kill their way up; they wanted them to fall back down, and those people would instantly plummet into the dust of the mortal realm.
Only this one man and his sword before them had completely jumped out of their control.
Mo Li Qing clutched his chest, his eyes filled with terror.
This sword did not only slash their treasures, but also the Dao Fruits within their bodies!
Their cultivation was madly draining away!
Chen Huaian stood atop that mountain-like pile of corpses.
One foot stepped on a Thunder General's helmet, his long sword in hand pointing diagonally at the Lingxiao Treasure Hall, the sword tip still dripping with golden blood.
Those half-demon, half-immortal eyes pierced through the layers of immortal clouds, looking at those four trembling Heavenly Kings.
"Any other tricks?"
Chen Huaian's voice was very light, yet it made the Four Heavenly Kings feel as if they had fallen into an icy cavern.
"If not..."
He took one step forward, killing intent surging forth like a tide.
"Then This Venerable One will send you on your way."
"Wait."
Vaiśravaṇa, Mo Li Hong's voice suddenly turned sharp, like a beast driven into a corner.
That kind of desperation carried a hint of all-or-nothing madness.
A pitch-black command arrow was offered up by him.
The arrow had no luster, only the cold blood-qi sedimented over ten thousand years. The moment it appeared, even the surrounding light was devoured.
He hurled it fiercely into the void.
"Request... the Immortal-Slaying Platform!!"
Boom—
The firmament split open a massive wound.
A nauseating smell of rust assaulted their senses—that was blood, the dried blood of Divine Immortals from ten thousand years.
Wind and clouds changed abruptly, a bloody rain filled the sky.
A majestic, dark red execution platform of unknown height, tens of thousands of zhang tall, slowly squeezed out from the wound in the void.
It was too heavy.
So heavy it bent the rules, so heavy it made the ruins of the South Heaven Gate wail in sorrow.
The platform body was mottled, the dark red divine iron bore no extra decoration, only countless slashes and axe marks of varying depths.
Every mark represented a once arrogant and unrivaled True Immortal who had perished here.
Immortal souls roared, killing intent flowed.
This was not a dead object.
This was the [Torture Instrument] used by the Celestial Court to awe all realms and maintain ten thousand years of rule.
It was the "rules" hanging over the heads of all cultivators.
Facing this terrifying pressure sufficient to shatter a Dao Heart, Chen Huaian remained motionless.
His clothes flapped wildly, rustled by the bloody wind.
He narrowed his eyes slightly, examining this behemoth.
His expression wasn't like looking at a murderous weapon that could reduce him to ashes, but more like a fastidious blacksmith who had finally found a suitable anvil.
He extended his tongue, licking away the bloodstain at the corner of his mouth.
Bloody, and sweet.
The divine sword in his hand seemed to sense the aura of its kin, emitting an excited dragon's roar.
"What a fine Immortal-Slaying Platform."
Chen Huaian laughed.
He laughed lightly, coldly, carrying a wild arrogance that seemed to tread the heavens underfoot.
"Just as well."
"This Venerable One's sword..."
He raised his sword, pointing at that pitch-black Immortal-Slaying Platform.
"... still lacks this whetstone!"