Chapter 777: The Sword Demon

Golden light condensed into a thread, the sword's killing intent icy and sharp.

The old demonic cultivator's expression changed drastically; he immediately transformed into a beast, clamping his jointed limbs together to shield his body, while retreating rapidly to evade this sword strike.

But this sword strike was extremely fast.

Before he could retreat even a few steps, the golden sword light, brimming with lethal intent, had already drawn near his eyes.

The old demonic cultivator clenched his teeth, using his hardened limbs to block his vital points.

Then the sword pattern flashed, golden light burst forth, the spiritual sword shattered, like twin golden lotuses blooming—brilliant and perilous.

In an instant, sword qi surged in all directions, and blood mist exploded.

The old demonic cultivator made a decision, glanced slowly at Mo Hua, then at Ouyang Mu beside him, and said in a hoarse voice:

"Young brother, are you and this Ouyang boy from the same sect?"

The old demonic cultivator's heart turned cold.

Mo Hua, in his spiritual form, was still a child before Foundation Establishment.

The severed jointed limbs scattered in all directions; the flesh and blood torn apart by the shattered sword exploded across the ground.

Jin Dan?!

"No," the old demonic cultivator shook his head, thinking, "impossible for Jin Dan—his spiritual energy hasn't crystallized; he's still at the Foundation Establishment level."

This damned brat, where did he learn such a bizarre body technique?

Yet he did not give up; his peripheral vision caught Mo Hua's form, and he swung his limbs again, slashing toward Mo Hua.

Spiritual sense locked on!

A demonic wind surged abruptly, bloodlight flared violently.

The bone sword demon's sneer froze on his face.

With each step he retreated, a circle of formation exploded, wrapping the old demonic cultivator layer by layer until he was completely engulfed.

But in his heart, there was not a trace of mercy.

The bone sword seemed infused with a "soul," or fused with "flesh and blood"—it seeped blood, sprouted bone, grew white flesh, slowly swelling and growing… until it became a two-armed, six-clawed, grotesque and cold-blooded "Bone Centipede Sword Demon."

Mo Hua raised his eyebrows slightly, his eyes cold.

The black cloth wrapped around, as if severing all connection.

The demonic sword's blood mist instantly enveloped the entire chamber.

Now that he had been pierced by a sword, he was like a bird startled by an arrow; with full concentration, his perception became far sharper.

Mo Hua smiled amiably, saying nothing.

Mo Hua smiled faintly and said:

"Old fraud, you forged a bone sword to form a Jin Dan; now the arrow is on the string, success or failure hangs by a thread—how could you possibly stop?"

In the center of the blood pool lay a grotesque bone sword.

The old demonic cultivator's gaze turned cold. "Then do you know how I forged my bone sword, how I formed my Jin Dan?"

Mo Hua frowned slightly, still puzzled, when suddenly a shocking transformation erupted.

"Young brother, no need for subtlety—I don't know how you got in, but you must understand this is the Ten Thousand Demons Prison; if discovered, even if your sword art is peerless, hundreds or thousands of demonic cultivators will tear you apart and swallow you alive."

As Mo Hua spoke, he observed the old demonic cultivator's spiritual sense.

It was precisely the bone sword the old demonic cultivator had forged from his own "spinal bone."

Ouyang Mu had not finished speaking.

The old demonic cultivator's expression twisted into a monstrous snarl.

He was already at his last breath.

Mo Hua's body flowed like water, evading the old demonic cultivator's attack.

It feared no one, no evil, no demon or monster.

The old demonic cultivator's heart filled with confusion and dread; he looked around wildly and said hoarsely:

This sword-controlling brat—once he gets close, he's no match for me!

If that terrifying sword technique strikes again, I will surely die!

At this moment, the demonic bone sword glowed with golden light, its blood flowing like lava, slowly evaporating the old demonic cultivator's remaining flesh and body.

Golden light and firelight spread directly outward.

The old demonic cultivator's heart startled.

Firelight and earthlight flickered and interwove.

But he could not evade it, nor could he block it at all.

His voice was clear and melodious, like pearls falling on a jade plate.

Clearly, this severe injury and molt had drained his last bit of primordial energy, bringing him one step closer to his own expiration.

This was a spiritual sense he had never sensed before.

As long as I close in and bind him, preventing him from controlling his sword, no matter how peerless his sword art, he's just fish on my chopping block!

Victory or defeat hinges on this one move; life or death hinges on this one move!

Right now, if I strike first, the advantage is mine!

In the old demonic cultivator's eyes, demonic energy surged violently; his body began to re-feralize—even if time was insufficient, his demonic power not fully restored, and he could only partially transform into a half-human, half-centipede grotesque monster, it was enough.

After dodging dozens of rounds, Mo Hua was somewhat disheveled; seizing an opening, he said:

"Old fraud, give it up—I have better body technique, you can't kill me."

This strange brat's sword art is indeed exceptional, but his flesh is weak, his spiritual energy feeble—he must fear close combat!

Mo Shi Xiong!

Ouyang Mu jolted awake and immediately obeyed, wrapping the black cloth Mo Hua had given him around his forehead.

So each time he saw it, his heart was shaken once more.

When had he set up this array?

"Fate is strange—I just set up a massive array too. I don't want to waste time with you."

He felt a cold, obscure, eerie, yet mysteriously majestic spiritual sense quietly descend upon him.

Mo Hua dodged them all.

The old demonic cultivator immediately infused more demonic energy into a wicked sword.

Spiritual energy and demonic energy intertwined and tore at each other.

Previously, his attention had been entirely focused on killing Ouyang Mu, so he barely noticed this strange and hidden spiritual sense.

In panic, the old demonic cultivator seized upon a sudden idea—he flicked his sleeve, and five or six foot-long wicked short swords, coated in centipede demonic poison, shot swiftly toward Ouyang Mu beside him.

"That's why he dares not show himself, only hiding in the shadows, controlling swords to strike covertly…"

The old demonic cultivator's pupils shuddered violently.

The dust dispersed, and the figure that had fallen from the ceiling gradually became clear.

And the surroundings were sealed by array patterns.

His face grew even older.

This kind of sword control…

The old demonic cultivator waved his hand; the serpent-patterned wicked sword blazed with crimson light, like a venomous snake lunging out straight toward the ceiling.

Indeed, as he attacked Ouyang Mu with the wicked sword, the sense of danger from the spiritual sense locking onto him faded.

What matters is this boy who controls swords.

How is this possible?!

An intense death omen enveloped his entire body.

He had sustained minor injuries.

He could even see the "panic" on Mo Hua's face, and his helpless demeanor.

The Bone Sword Demon moved his bone sword a few times, only to find it gripped tightly by Mo Hua—no matter how hard he strained, it did not budge.

The old demonic cultivator's expression turned terrified.

It was precisely the old demonic cultivator.

The old demonic cultivator launched a sudden attack, moving with astonishing speed.

"Don't think I don't know—you've already forged your sword bone. As for forming a Jin Dan, it's nothing more than using Master Mu as a Yan Yinzi, employing heretical methods to forge a Jin Dan."

He had already drawn out a second spiritual sword.

The old demonic cultivator released his spiritual sense—walls were empty, still nothing sensed—but he knew someone must be lurking in the shadows.

It is now a demonic specter, a Sword Demon!

Ouyang Mu's heart tightened; he immediately turned to look at the old demonic cultivator still clad in flesh, and saw that between the flesh, a faint golden-red bloodlight had ignited, no one knew when.

Although he had seen Mo Hua's sword control before, this level of sword control was utterly unbelievable—the swordlight was beautiful, the sword aura perilous, far surpassing ordinary peers of the same realm.

Ouyang Mu's expression was anxious.

When he opened his eyes, he found himself inside a pool of blood.

Within his own life bone sword, nourished by the blood pool, he felt his demonic thoughts had never been stronger.

And now, this terrifying sword cultivator was hiding in the shadows, watching him.

"Brat, who are you?"

Inside the demonic artifact chamber, silence suddenly fell.

The old demonic cultivator's gaze was monstrous.

"But apart from sword control, he probably knows nothing at all."

"Why not reveal yourself and show yourself?"

But that didn't make sense either.

Slim figure, pale skin.

Mo Hua was unsure whether his guess was right or wrong.

But his heart meridian was protected by the heart mirror Mo Hua had given him, so he was not seriously injured.

He was at the peak of Foundation Establishment.

It would tear this brat apart limb by limb, then swallow him bite by bite—as a gift for its transformation into a demonic specter!

The bone sword descended, cold and grim.

But before he could finish speaking, Mo Hua shook his head.

At that moment, a flash of golden light appeared in the air.

The old demonic cultivator's eyelid twitched slightly, thinking: It's truly just a young brat.

If he doesn't close in and cut Mo Hua down, once Mo Hua creates distance and controls swords with spiritual sense, it will be his death.

"Finally…"

The old demonic cultivator thought.

"Of course," Mo Hua said, "who doesn't want to form a Jin Dan?"

Mo Hua shook his head. "Old fraud, don't try to fool me—even if I wanted to stop, you wouldn't let it go."

But in the next instant, a shimmer of waterlight appeared, and Mo Hua's figure vanished.

The old demonic cultivator's expression shifted slightly; he speculated inwardly:

"This brat… perhaps had some extraordinary encounter. Though his talent is poor, his sword talent is extremely high—thus, at such a young age, he has mastered such fierce sword control."

The flesh vaporized by the sword aura's demonic fire emitted a thin veil of blood mist, along with a nauseating stench of human flesh.

Just as he was at a loss, a voice came from afar:

"Black cloth, wrap around your forehead!"

Its expression suddenly turned fierce; one arm transformed into a bone sword, slashing out a ghastly pale light toward Mo Hua.

A bloody, sinister spiritual aura surged from all around, flooding into the bone sword.

The old demonic cultivator looked solemn and asked in a low voice:

Mo Hua regarded it coldly. "You want to eat me?"

Mo Hua's posture was light as water, skimming along the sharp limbs, barely dodging each strike.

That boy Ouyang Mu can forge swords well, but in actual combat, he's useless—no concern.

Mo Hua, small and pale-skinned, dwarfed by the towering, monstrous bone sword demon, reached out a tiny hand and effortlessly gripped the seemingly sharp and sinister bone sword.

The spiritual fluctuations of Earth Fire and Earth Kill continuously interwove and clashed.

"Enough," said the old demonic cultivator, now transformed into the towering, grotesque Bone Sword Demon, cackling wildly:

"Smaller, softer… perfect for an appetizer…"

"A… child?!"

The old demonic cultivator glanced, his pupils contracting, momentarily stunned.

Mo Hua naturally didn't waste words with him.

There was no echo, no movement around.

The old demonic cultivator's face twisted; he strained every ounce of his strength, trying to break free from the array.

Moments later, a pile of flesh quivered in the center of the field.

"Good."

And his face and aura were faintly recognizable.

Moreover, his sword control was long-range.

A powerful spiritual fluctuation spread out, accompanied by fine sword qi and fragments of broken blades.

Then, a sudden chill surged into his heart.

Upon hearing this, the old demonic cultivator's expression flickered with surprise.

Ouyang Mu exhaled deeply, staring at the pile of flesh that had been the old demonic cultivator, remembering he had once been a swordsmith of the Tai'e Sect's Ouyang clan—his emotions were complicated.

Only the sinister furnace fire still hissed softly.

Ouyang Mu's face turned pale.

Mo Hua was only at Foundation Establishment mid-stage; though he relied on the Broken Gold Array and spiritual awareness sword control to pose a grave threat to Foundation Establishment late-stage, killing this Foundation Establishment peak old demonic cultivator outright was still unrealistic.

The one who ambushed me with that razor-sharp Broken Gold sword… is this… this child who looks so innocent?!

No, impossible!

"Sort of."

The old demonic cultivator froze.

Even, strangely complex—nothing like a human's spiritual awareness.

Finally, as the array's fluctuations faded, the old demonic cultivator had been shredded by the array, reduced to a pile of flesh.

With all preparations complete, Mo Hua's spiritual awareness locked on again.

Movement technique?

The Bone Sword Demon fell silent.

The old demonic cultivator was not dead.

A golden spiritual sword flew through the air, exploding into a golden sword qi that obliterated all the crimson demonic swords.

His face was smudged with dust, dirty, yet his features were clearly handsome, with a hint of innocence and youthfulness in his expression.

This array pattern was precisely the Daoist array the old demonic cultivator had drawn on the bone sword.

It was a sword.

Mo Hua thought for a moment, then spoke:

Or had he only guessed half right?

As Mo Hua was deep in thought, Ouyang Mu suddenly cried out from beside him:

"Senior Mo! Trouble! This old bastard is secretly eating something!"

Moments later, it suddenly frowned:

"Why are you smaller?"

Then he turned his head and said: "Senior Mo…"

But he was trapped—he could only drag his long centipede body, waving his limbs, relentlessly slashing at Mo Hua.

But it was too late.

It suddenly realized something was off…

"Stay put. Don't move," Mo Hua said again.

Ouyang Mu was startled and retreated as far as he could.

The crimson sword light struck the ceiling and exploded.

Could he be… a child-faced, black-haired old demon?

At the same time, his expression grew even more solemn, tinged with fear.

At this moment, he was facing away from Mo Hua, continuously feeding a flesh-colored pill into the insect mouth at the back of his skull with his limbs.

Mo Hua looked utterly confident:

Suddenly, the stone wall cracked, and rocks rained down.

The old demon cultivator let out a cold laugh. "Since you possess such brilliant swordsmanship, why stoop to such petty tricks—hiding your head and tail, afraid to show yourself?"

Mo Hua gave a gentle pinch. Creak—

It saw a scene it could not comprehend.

Once the sword qi dissipated and the blood mist cleared, the refining chamber was a complete shambles, as if it had been washed over with blood.

Mo Hua's gaze sharpened slightly.

He looked down and saw that, at some unknown moment, layer upon layer of formations had been drawn on the ground. Among them, one formation blazed with golden light, like a golden chain, and had already bound his segmented limbs.

At first he had been listening to the two of them talk and hadn't paid attention. Later, by chance, he noticed the movements on the old demon cultivator's back were somewhat odd. He glanced sideways and only then suddenly realized that, at some unknown moment, two slender segmented limbs had extended from the old demon cultivator's back, and a writhing worm-mouth had split open on the back of his skull.

But this old demon cultivator was clearly a seasoned schemer. Now, facing each other in a standoff, his vigilance was extremely high, and the fluctuations of his divine sense were not obvious.

The old demon cultivator's heart flared with anger.

Ouyang Mu nodded, then obediently followed Mo Hua's instructions and sat cross-legged to meditate on the spot.

Mo Hua was taken aback.

His head no longer ached, no longer felt dizzy, and the dreamlike, hazy sensation was gone.

Ouyang Mu suddenly felt dizzy and muddled, as if the whole world were a dream, unable to tell what was real and what was false, and his divine soul seemed about to leave his body.

But his aura instantly weakened considerably.

He tried to shake off the lock of that divine sense, but the moment his mind stirred, he found that wisp of divine sense clung to him like a maggot on bone—impossible to shake off.

"If I cannot form my Jin Dan, then in the form of the demon fiend 'Sword Demon,' I shall go on living…"

The scene fell into a momentary stalemate.

His physical body was very weak, his spiritual power didn't look strong either, his blood qi was fresh and youthful, without any stale aura—clearly he was young in age, nothing like an old demon at all.

The old demon cultivator paused, then said amiably, "Little brother, what makes you say such a thing?"

"Which Daoist friend might you be?"

"It's not over yet…"

On the other side, Mo Hua let that dreamlike feeling wash over him, listening to the ravings in his ear. After a long while, he finally felt his divine sense being drawn away.

"Damn it!"

"You really take me for a child? Still trying to trick me?"

All these years of cultivation, all these aspirations, and a hundred years of scheming for the Jin Dan—about to be cast to the wind!

"No!"

This evil sword had snake patterns forged into its blade, was longer than the previous one, and under the infusion of demonic power, gleamed with a blood-colored light.

"I've succeeded!"

The old demon cultivator gave a cold snort.

Mo Hua looked solemn, with a faint trace of anxiety. But after only a moment, he suddenly broke into a bright smile and said to the old demon cultivator:

"But… what Foundation Establishment cultivator could possibly master such a fierce and bizarre sword-control art?"

Inside the blood pool, it was eerily quiet.

The golden chains bound his body, and the earth fire exploded.

And before the sword light could strike, a thin, small figure had already dropped down from the roof and landed inside the room.

In his panic, Ouyang Mu only had time to cross his arms in front of his chest before the shockwave of the clashing sword qi blasted him away, sending him crashing into a corner.

The old demon cultivator gave a cold snort. "This is me killing, you fleeing. Even if you can dodge a hundred strikes, the one strike you can't dodge will be the one that kills you!"

After the old demon cultivator transformed into his complete-form White Bone Sword Demon, he could not help but let out a low, terrifying, and ghastly wild laugh.

The old demon cultivator's brows furrowed slightly, then a smile of ambiguous meaning tugged at the corner of his mouth. "How do you know I want to forge a sword bone and form a Jin Dan?"

The old demon cultivator's expression changed abruptly.

This old demon cultivator, at the moment of death, had sacrificed his own life and flesh and blood to activate the evil sword!

"When numerous demon cultivators fight to the death in a siege, even a Jin Dan cultivator faces the risk of falling, let alone a mere mid-Foundation Establishment brat like you…"

"I just took a large number of pills—I can wear you down slowly!"

But after only a moment, it came to an abrupt halt…

"No matter how cunning you are, weren't you still forced out by me? Let me see what kind of divine being you really are…"

And it was precisely the carefully prepared life-bound evil sword he had made for his advancement to Jin Dan.

While chasing this little brat, he had been led step by step—into the very center of this dense web of formations?!

Ouyang Mu opened his mouth.

"In this Ten Thousand Demon Prison, demon cultivators are everywhere—who would still use such pure sword-control?"

The bone sword was caught barehanded by Mo Hua.

At the same time, he had also finished calculating in his heart.

The more he thought about it, the more incredible it seemed, yet a faint glimmer flashed in his eyes.

"And to be honest, I too have some secrets I don't wish outsiders to learn of…" the old demon cultivator's tone softened. "How about we each stand down?"

Two segmented limbs, like sharp sickles, slashed toward Mo Hua's body, seemingly intending to cut him into three pieces at the waist.

Mo Hua's feet skimmed the ground like a dragonfly touching water, drifting backward step by step, while at the same time activating the formations one ring after another.

"How do I save myself?!"

At this moment, a sudden fierce light flared in the old demon cultivator's murky gaze as he looked up toward the roof.

Ouyang Mu was taken aback. "What is it?"

On the fair, Bai Xi little hand, not even a single scratch.

Not just Ouyang Mu, but also this little brat who had popped up out of nowhere—both of these brats, he would kill them both, to serve as the Yan Yinzi for his life-bound evil sword!

He was already at the end of his lifespan, and now bearing a sword wound, his life was not long for this world. This one slim chance of survival—he had to fight for it!

Just now, as he chatted idly with Mo Hua, he fed himself a pill.

"Poor child…"

The Jin Se spiritual sword just now was swift and powerful, utterly annihilating his demonic swords, but it also revealed the location of the sword control.

Then, its pair of deep black, sinister eyes turned slightly, and it coldly regarded Mo Hua.

Several demonic swords, brimming with the demonic energy of Foundation Establishment peak, slashed through the air in streaks of blood, hurtling straight toward Ouyang Mu.

The old demonic cultivator's flesh quivered several times, then shed a layer of skin and muscle like a serpent or insect molting, revealing the hunched, ancient form beneath.

Strike while the iron is hot.

Ouyang Mu struggled to rise, blood at the corner of his mouth.

If there is something one sword strike cannot solve, then strike again.

Thus, he slashed three more times.

The bone sword was crushed in bare hands.

The White Bone Sword Demon froze, sharply inhaling, his face instantly turning whiter than bone.

(End of Chapter)

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