Chapter 77: Chapter Seventy-Seven: Sever the Heart

For the vast majority of people in the world, “Tianlou” is an unfamiliar term. It is not discussed with enthusiasm like the Shengmai Realm, nor revered with awe like the Xuanmen Realm. It belongs to the true rulers—the deepest bones of this world—and even Xianren Terrace does not list it among its ranks.

For the smaller number who know the term, “Tianlou” is a synonym for solemn profundity and inviolable authority. Due to their status, lineage, sect, or position, they have directly or indirectly encountered some great figure, and these figures are invariably tied to the two characters “Tianlou.”

Only a very few can treat “Tianlou” as a realm worthy of judgment—and Yunlang Mountain’s current Jianjun is clearly one of them.

In the Jianjun’s words, Tianlou is strong in every aspect, but its supreme strength lies in the five words: “Heaven and Earth Share One Power.”

This realm is entered only after transforming life and nature into Heaven and Earth; the one who ascends becomes a favorite of Heaven and Earth, and with a mere gesture, Heaven and Earth move with them.

This Taibai Sword Realm, however, severs the connection between Heaven and Earth and those within it, forcing victory or defeat to rest solely on the two combatants’ own strength.

Of course, this is no foolproof remedy against Tianlou—it is merely one possible attempt. Some Tianlou can dismantle the sword realm with a wave of the hand; others require time; only a tiny fraction might be forced to clash directly with Ming Qitian within it.

Ming Qitian did not know which type the Immortal Jun belonged to.

In any case, the instant the sword realm unfolded, her sword tip already summoned true qi—this strike abandoned the ethereal grace of Gushen entirely, becoming dangerous, crude, even base.

It was like a commoner who had swallowed blood for twenty years, suddenly rising in the street to assassinate a nobleman—his killing intent nearly overflowed his brows.

His shoes were straw sandals; his clothes, torn hemp; his hair wild and unkempt, his expression blank and dull. His sword was rusted, with only one edge polished to a gleaming white.

This strike sought no beauty, spoke no sword principle, carried no sword intent—it deviated from, even defiled, the very word “sword path.” No master of the sword path would deign to look upon it.

Hysterical, it sought only to kill.

[Commoner’s Sword], recorded in the Zhuangzi Sword Exegesis: A commoner’s rage, blood splashes five paces.

And Taibai Star is the master of slaughter.

At this moment, perhaps it was Ming Qitian who commanded “Heaven and Earth Share One Power”—the entire sword realm thrilled and rejoiced for this strike.

Ming Qitian pressed forward without hesitation.

The commoner who assassinates nobles does not care which limb is severed from his body as he strikes, nor whether he survives afterward—he wants only the life before him, even if he must trade his own.

Ming Qitian likewise had no intention of dodging the Immortal Jun’s Youhuoxuanshuangzidian ; she would not yield an ounce of her momentum.

And if the Immortal Jun used again that ability of flowing flesh and blood, she had already prepared her second strike.

But the Immortal Jun did not use those abilities this time.

The stubborn frostfire from last night’s clash, the golden eyes circling her mind like flies searching for cracks in an egg, the flowing flesh—all were gone.

He had never intended to command Heaven and Earth; he had even abandoned all his various powers.

Whether or not this Taibai Sword Realm had unfolded, he had no intention of changing his response.

Simply come forward, then consume.

At an extreme speed, his tall, sturdy body crashed forward with a thunderous boom, pressing upon Ming Qitian’s face.

Ming Qitian had prepared herself for a desperate, staggered defense—but this speed gave her no chance even to stagger.

She immediately abandoned the strike whose momentum had reached its peak—the [Commoner’s Sword]—and drew back all spirit, qi, and intent into the Zhanxin Liuli.

The liuli blade spun back, tracing a half-circle—

A fist arrived.

The mirror-like defense had barely taken shape when it shattered completely under the fist.

Zhanxin Liuli leapt from her grasp.

Ming Qitian fell from the sky to the earth, carving a swift white line, crashing into the ground with a thunderous impact, then bouncing up to smash through seven or eight rooms before half-burying herself in rubble.

Only one punch.

The two characters “Tianlou” could never define Him.

The strength to level cities and shatter mountains, the flawless combat instinct, the all-seeing eyes—all derived from His own body, not Heaven and Earth’s augmentation—were beyond the reach of any human Tianlou.

Yet Ming Qitian’s decision to sever Heaven and Earth to engage the Immortal Jun in physical combat was not wrong.

For though she still could not win even with the severance, without it, she had no ability to commune with Heaven and Earth at all, not the slightest chance.

In fact, in this single exchange, she had made the most appropriate, decisive, and exquisite response possible—using her greatest strength to strike His weakest point.

But even if a mosquito bites the throat, it leaves only a small red mark.

The white sword realm collapsed simultaneously. The Immortal Jun raised his hand, aiming at the body lying atop the rubble, ready to claim this meal.

But in his energy perception, countless light points suddenly erupted around him.

—The shards of the shattered sword realm had not vanished; they had transformed into ten thousand razor-sharp qi blades, like frost and snow!

To transform control of true qi to this degree—there were fewer than ten such people on the He List.

The qi blades cut like a blizzard—but the Immortal Jun did not even bother to wave them away.

The sharpest few left only shallow scratches on His scales, which healed instantly.

Yet suddenly, He felt a shock in His mind.

Among the myriad qi blades, indistinguishable in energy perception, one attack stood out with startling sharpness in His “sense of fate”—and it was now rushing toward Him.

It was that sword!

The blade had reached His throat.

He swiftly extended His claw—when facing pure physical combat, His perfect instinct never erred.

Even at the last possible instant, He caught the beautiful sword firmly in His claw—no!

The sword suddenly arced through a sublime curve, evading His grasp.

If the Immortal Jun’s combat instinct was the ultimate simplicity and beauty, in harmony with Heaven and Earth, then this evasion was “Man Escapes the One.”

Ming Qitian’s secret scripture, the Sword Tao, hailed as the “Compendium of All Sword Combat,” could not support her in defeating Him head-on—but in this narrow opportunity, it could still play a tiny role.

Above the rubble, the bloodstained, tattered white-clad woman looked up, raised two fingers together, and gently lifted them.

Above, the [Commoner’s Sword] buried within the sword blade erupted suddenly—its tip pierced the Immortal Jun’s neck.

Of course, it remained only a moment before being yanked out by the following claw, held before the Immortal Jun.

The golden eyes fixed on this strange, beautiful longsword—it still trembled, struggling to break free.

This was the only way the tiny creature on the ground could harm Him.

His throat was not His vital point—or rather, He had no vital point at all. Even if pierced a hundred times by human weapons, He would suffer little damage.

Except by this sword.

Each time it struck Him, it erased a fragment of His consciousness.