Chapter 908: One Sword Severs the Star Fortress

Clang!

Amid billions of electromagnetic currents, the Taiqing Flying Sword was drawn.

She streaked through the darkest heavens, wreathed in twelve hundred veils of solar light—glorious, dazzling, darting like a fish—actively cleaving toward the Star Fortress at the center of the million warship battle formation.

She chose the most brutal, most direct method of battle.

"Kill!"

The million noble-blooded cultivators of the Xu and Wang clans—rulers who for thousands of years had governed Xu Gao Jie and Wang Gao Jie—roared as one. Within that tragic, murderous intent, united in heart and will, the battle formation seemed to turn faster, mesh with greater harmony, expose fewer gaps.

Such is the way of battle formations.

The quality and state of the soldiers and officers often decide a formation's might; a mediocre commander, if his officers and men are of exceptional caliber, can sweep aside ten thousand famed generals as easily as nothing.

"Kill!"

"Kill!"

Xu Yan, controlling the increasingly well-handled grand formation, gave a low shout. A sky-blanketing wave of yang-pole electromagnetic Lei Ting Fa spells condensed into being, flashing like lightning to meet that glorious sword-light head-on.

Crack!

The lightning flashed and was gone.

Boom!

The Taiqing Flying Sword was forced back, retreating from its half-solid, half-energy state. Innumerable Dai Sen solar light beams around it detonated in sacrifice; the searing radiance exploded, shattering the next wave of yang-pole electromagnetic Lei Ting Fa spells from the formation.

The flying sword's own spiritual light dimmed slightly as it retreated from the thunder.

What drove the two clans' cultivators to despair was that the spiritual light lost by the Taiqing Flying Sword flickered only for an instant, then instantly restored itself whole.

The Fourth Realm of the Sword Dao—Indestructible Sword Intent!

This holy realm of the sword, the dream of countless sword cultivators, now displayed its tremendous resilience.

It could not be broken, could not be battered, could not be worn down—stubborn as the very first crag born of Chaos since time immemorial.

"You've gotten a bit stronger."

Jiang Ding sighed in admiration.

"Since ancient times, there have always been legends of breakthroughs achieved in the heat of battle—coincidences that befall those whose will, magic power, and soul have been pushed to the very limit, blessed by tremendous fortune."

"I hope you all can do the same."

Jiang Ding offered his heartfelt blessing.

"Second sword!"

Boom!

Heaven and earth suddenly plunged into darkness, then blazed with light again. Amid billions of yin-yang electromagnetic orbits, the Taiqing Flying Sword, wrapped in its glorious Dai Sen solar-light veil, came crashing down once more.

No change was needed.

If one sword cannot kill the enemy, then simply cleave again.

Boom!

The Taiqing Flying Sword collided once more with the million-warship grand formation of the Xu and Wang clans. Hundreds of li of space shattered, churning in chaos; the light from explosions flashed on and off without end, brightening heaven and earth countless times, darkening them countless times.

"Third sword!"

"Fourth sword!"

"Fifth sword…"

……

The Taiqing Flying Sword cleaved down, again and again!

Between strikes the sword-light flowed seamlessly, as if needing no pause to draw breath or recover. Frenziedly it devoured the spiritual energy, sunlight, and magnetic fields of the Minor Thousand Worlds across a thousand-plus kilometers, transforming them into a blue-gold sword-light that kept hacking at the enemy—as if it would never end.

"Seventh sword!"

Boom!

The Taiqing Flying Sword descended once more.

Unlike any before, this time the blue-gold blade cleanly severed the killing formation unleashed by the million-warship battle formation of the Xu and Wang clans!

Boom!

"Puh!"

In that instant, at the edge of the million-warship formation, over a hundred thousand sky-fighters and warships exploded with a thunderous roar.

Countless shards of warships, mingled with fresh blood, sprayed in all directions. Engine cores became oversized fireballs—hundred thousand of them rising at once, a magnificent sight.

This was the battle formation, under the Taiqing Flying Sword's relentless cleaving, finally unable to bear the terrible force and forced to disperse part of its power outward, detonating it within the fighters and warships, producing a cataclysmic, disaster-like destruction.

"In the end, it's just a battle formation of warships thrown together haphazardly."

"No matter how united in heart, it's nothing more than this."

Jiang Ding's gaze swept across the scene, and he sighed: "But it seems I see that these peripheral warships that detonated in sacrifice are all collateral-branch cultivators of the Xu and Wang clans—not a single main-line cultivator among them?"

"No way, no way?"

"Even at a time like this, your ancestors still cling to their main-line bloodlines, using you as cannon fodder?"

Wisps and threads of sound, like the hum of a sword, slipped through the gap torn in the battle formation moments ago and poured into the ears of every Xu and Wang clan cultivator. Their fervent, heroic emotions stalled in an instant; thoughts in their souls sprouted wildly like weeds, twisting and deforming beyond all control.

Many collateral-branch cultivators could not help but see scenes in their minds.

The main-line cultivators, year after year, did no labor, yet possessed wealth and heavenly treasures a hundred, a thousand times greater than theirs, and were born able to ascend to higher realms than they.

Unlike themselves, toiling day after day, yet each year receiving only meager spirit stones and pills for their own cultivation—wretchedly poor.

In name, they were people of the same clan, one family—but was this the truth of it?

Some collateral-branch cultivators recalled that they once had a younger brother, top-notch in talent, a heavenly spiritual root, who might have surpassed the nation's Crown Prince and become a Nascent Soul cultivator.

But one day, suddenly, he was gone.

No one dared ask, no one dared speak.

There were collateral cultivators...

Unfair.

All manner of grievances surfaced in their hearts.

These were all real and true, genuinely drawn from the events of their daily lives; these cold, cruel realities could not be concealed by a slogan like "one family, one blood."

Countless similar emotions surged wildly in the hearts of the collateral cultivators; the unified spirit of the masses instantly collapsed, and morale plummeted.

In fact, many collateral cultivators directly abandoned control of the military formation, wanting to flee the battlefield, no longer regarding this war as their own, feeling no sense of belonging; the original unity of the masses had always seemed so inexplicable.

The grand formation of a million warships consequently suffered a cliff-like drop in aura.

"Despicable!"

"Who would have thought that a dignified sword cultivator, the Great Sun Sword Son, would also resort to mind-confusing illusions—aren't you ashamed?"

Xu Yan suddenly spat out a large mouthful of fresh blood, and with blood he formed a fierce shout that appeared in the divine souls of all the bewildered collateral cultivators: "You were able to be born into the Dao, born with a path of advancement — why is that?"

"Ah?"

"Is this something one is born with?"

"It is because you were born of the bloodline of the Xu and Wang families!"

"Although you cannot compare with the main line, and there are degrees of closeness, even the poorest among you, in the countryside, in the towns, are middle-class households, with at least several families providing support — did this fall from the sky?"

He cursed fiercely in anger.

"Because we are descendants of the Xu clan!"

Many collateral cultivators suddenly awoke, hastily resuming control of the formation, accelerating its operation, reducing the pressure on the ancestor.

Clang!

Sword light, like wind chimes, struck again at this moment, cleaving into the hastily operating military formation that had gathered almost no power.

Boom!

This time, the Taiqing Flying Sword easily sliced through the killing formation condensed by the million-warship grand array, splitting open several thousand warships with a single strike; the warships fell, their cross-sections smooth and neat.

The blue-gold sword light met no obstruction, cleaving straight onto the Star Fortress.

Boom!

In Xu Yan's horrified gaze, the mottled Star Fortress shield shattered with a roar, and the sword light raced toward his head.

"Kill!"

He roared furiously; having no choice, he could only burn his essence blood, wield the Heavenly Sword in his hand, and charge forward once more.

Ting!

The moment the Heavenly Sword touched the Taiqing Flying Sword, it was as if struck by lightning — it was sent flying far away, its spiritual light dim; they were simply not things of the same caliber.

Nevertheless, so many layers of interception had ultimately served their purpose.

Whoosh!

This sword did not behead Xu Yan; it only sliced past him obliquely, piercing through one-third of the Star Fortress.

The mottled Star Fortress paused for a moment, and one-third of the fortress's hull slowly broke away and fell toward the earth.

The fortress's cross-section was smooth as a mirror; countless electric serpents and sparks bloomed, machine oil mingled with runes, like the ancient Star Fortress's blood flowing out, spilling across the starry sky.

(End of this chapter)

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