Chapter 320: A Positioning Mark For You And Me

"What do the two of you think?"

Jiang Ding flew in the sky, his gaze sweeping over the two as he asked.

A heavy pressure bore down on their bodies, their breath involuntarily catching, their magic power stalling for a a moment.

"Junior Uncle-Master's Sword Dao is profound; this disciple takes his leave."

Lei Lei Linghe said bitterly, cupped his fist in salute, and departed on his own.

Although he still had the strength to fight, he could muster no fighting spirit at all—he was already an empty husk with no soul left.

"Brat!"

"If not for you, this old man's Dao path ought to have been boundless and bright."

Zhou Zhou Kunlong's eyes were filled with blood-red and resentment, a fierce unwillingness: "Why did you have to appear, and seize my great Dao opportunity?"

"Kill!"

He roared, the magic power in his dantian pouring out, driven to the extreme, not hesitating to self-destruct the top-grade flame mountain magical instrument in his hand.

The small mountain instantly swelled to a size of seven or eight zhang!

The flames were scorching and violent, countless ferocious fire snakes spreading outward, held aloft in his hand, each strand of muscle knotted, power condensed into a single point, hurled toward the blue-robed youth in the sky.

The magic-power flames of a peak Foundation Establishment cultivator combined with pure physical force.

Sect Leader Lei Lei Linghe changed color at the sight.

"Your trump card—you've also cultivated body refinement, and likewise cultivated it to peak Foundation Establishment?"

Jiang Ding said lightly.

The two peak Foundation Establishments merged as one,

Even four or five peak Foundation Establishment cultivators besieging him might not necessarily be able to deal with him; without me, he should have been the master of this Golden Core Fruit.

Clang!

A deep-blue flying sword, with the vast majority of its edge restrained, slowly emerged from between his brows; the sound of the sword leaving its sheath spread outward, reaching all directions.

It entered everyone's divine soul irresistibly.

"This sword…"

Princess Princess Chiyan and General Brother Moyu felt cold all over their bodies.

Vaguely recalling that, compared with demon-kind who relied on their own bloodline and innate instincts, the human race was most adept at borrowing external objects.

Whoosh!

The deep-blue sword-light pierced straight through the small flame-mountain top-grade magical instrument.

The small flame mountain was seven or eight zhang tall, with ferocious fire snakes upon it hissing and roaring, deep red in color, able to burn gold and melt iron; yet now it stalled, pausing in the sky.

A faint deep-blue trace appeared in the middle of the small flame mountain, rapidly expanding, then splitting it in two; it exploded with a roar, and two fist-sized mountain-shaped magical instruments fell, the smooth fracture surfaces showing clearly visible spiderweb-like cracks that had seeped into the deepest parts of the instruments.

"Puh!"

The top-grade magical instrument he had refined for many years was broken; Zhou Zhou Kunlong spat a mouthful of blood, his magic power and divine soul trembling unceasingly.

"I'm not reconciled!"

His eyes bulged wide, still wanting to do something, when a deep-blue flying sword, crystalline as jade, about a chi long, pressed against his brow, freezing all his movements.

"Reconciled to what?"

Jiang Ding flew to his front, took a careful look at his fine head and those blood-red, resentful eyes, and asked softly.

Truly a fine head.

It's just a pity, he cannot.

The two Xiang Xiang Qiyu Jin Dan acted quite properly in all they did; what should be given was given, what should be supported was supported, so it wouldn't do to break the rules in front of everyone and let the foreign races look down on us.

"Not reconciled…"

Zhou Zhou Kunlong's roar stalled, his soul fled in terror, his divine soul icy and bone-chilling; the words could no longer leave his mouth.

"Conduct yourself well."

Jiang Ding patted his shoulder.

A wisp of subtle Destruction Sword Intent imitating a Great Yin Sword Intent landed on his shoulder, extremely concealed, drawing no one's notice—not even the several Jin Dan.

It was no great matter—just a positioning mark.

In terms of concealment, the Great Yin Sword Intent truly had its specialty; the Destruction Sword Intent was somewhat inferior.

Taking back the Taiqing flying sword from the other's brow, Jiang Ding restrained the magic power within his body, not even bothering to unfold a shield, and strolled past him unhurriedly.

'Chance!'

'A body cultivated by magic is fragile as paper; at such close distance, if I just kill him, I will be the person with the greatest hope of becoming the sect's Jin Dan, and the Old Ancestor will surely not blame me!'

A thought swelled madly within Zhou Zhou Kunlong's sea of consciousness, forming a clear chain, automatically ignoring all the unfavorable factors on this chain, selecting the possibilities most favorable to himself, becoming a straw on his Dao path.

Brutality and resolve surfaced in his eyes as he stared at the completely unguarded back of the person before him.

Thick sinews silently tensed within his body, the strength of a savage dragon gathering, his knees bent almost imperceptibly, the nails of both claws flashing with a lava-like light.

"Interesting."

Kong Que and Princess Princess Chiyan watched this scene with great interest.

"Foolish child!"

Zhou Zhou Sanyan sighed, his divine sense swept over and landed in Zhou Zhou Kunlong's ear, freezing his body and stopping his movements: "The resentment in your heart is too great; he has already developed killing intent toward you—try to go out less in the future."

"Actually, why resent at all?"

"The strong feed on the weak, the strong are honored—this has always been the fate of us cultivators. In the past, hadn't you also struck down and killed Dao-contention rivals within the sect? Now that it's your turn, why can't you see through it?"

"Old Ancestor!"

Zhou Zhou Kunlong's eye sockets reddened, his reason returned, and he actually began to sob loudly in public, snot flowing, tears dripping down drop by drop, paying no heed to anyone's gaze—two hundred-odd years of face.

No one laughed at him either.

The many Foundation Establishment cultivators felt a pang of sympathy, their eyes stinging, sharing similar emotions.

In this life,

there was no hope for Jin Dan.

The last sliver of hope on the immortal path ended here; they wished they could have a good cry, and who cared how others looked at them?

"Kun Long, your Dao journey is not yet severed."

Such a display stirred a trace of softness in Zhou Zhou Sanyan, vaguely recalling a scene from over two hundred years ago — the birth of a chubby little boy.

Back then, his parents were Foundation Establishment cultivators of the sect, still young in years, and had shared a period of friendship with him.

"Half a chance is still half a chance. You're not young anymore either — find an opportunity and prepare to form your core."

Zhou Zhou Sanyan sighed: "I'll give you one more type of auxiliary core-forming spiritual item, which can add another fraction of possibility. Added to what you already have, that would be... seven or eight tenths of a chance."

"Then let it be so — fight with all your might. We immortal cultivators spend our whole lives struggling against heaven for our fate."

"I once did so, and so shall you."

"Thank you, Uncle Yan!"

Zhou Zhou Kunlong wiped away his tears, knelt on the ground, and said gratefully.

Core-forming spiritual items — even Jin Dan cultivators were not well-off in them; they all had to be set aside for their descendants, collected over countless years, and were exceedingly precious.

……

"Nine-Orifice Golden-Forming Fruit."

After informing the two Jin Dan cultivators, Jiang Ding flew back to Golden Spirit Mountain, sat cross-legged, took out a golden, fist-sized fruit, examined it carefully, and scanned it alternately with divine sense and sword intent.

Entirely golden-yellow, with nine orifices, indestructible as adamantine.

"Not bad — it's the same as the Nine-Orifice Golden-Forming Fruit recorded in the immortal sect's library."

"I've accepted a great favor from the Xiang Qiyu Sect's founder."

"Selling my life won't do. I myself already have a far higher chance of forming a core than others; life isn't worth that price. If I have the ability in the future, I should at least ensure the Xiang Qiyu Sect's lineage endures for three thousand years without loss."

After a long while, Jiang Ding confirmed, beaming with joy.

"Consuming it raw is an enormous waste — it's practically no different from a primitive gnawing on raw meat and drinking blood. It's best to refine it into a pill."

"Not only would the effect be better, but it could also yield several more pills."

Jiang Ding Zi murmured, and his figure vanished.

(End of this chapter)