Chapter 237

Its true strength could not be judged.

Although that blade of grass had no legendary battles to its name, the fact that it fought four Immortal Kings was enough to show its might.

Its legacy was the Grass Character Sword Art—nothing could resist it; cutting through matter was as easy as slicing mud with a divine weapon.

This was the legacy Fang Yu had just received: the Ten Fiendish Treasures' Art, at least a Supreme Divine Art.

Fang Yu took a step forward, absorbing all the sword qi; when he reached the sword art's legacy, the silver parchment grew still, motionless, its silver light flowing like a condensed Milky Way, intricate and complex, dotted with countless bone characters.

Fang Yu gazed upon it, clearly seeing this Supreme Divine Art, the Supreme Treasure Art—the Grass Character Sword Art—that forged all things into sword embryos, even using arms and finger bones as sword embryos, unbreakable and invincible.

"The gains from this are simply too immense."

Fang Yu had obtained the Mountain Treasure, which meant he now possessed the Six Paths Reincarnation Heavenly Art and the Grass Character Sword Art, along with other methods and numerous treasure arts—such as those of the Hou Clan, the Luan Clan, and the Bi Fang Clan.

Each treasure art legacy, in the Eternal Life Realm, was equivalent to a great divine art, while the Six Paths Reincarnation Heavenly Art and the Grass Character Sword Art were undoubtedly at the level of Supreme Divine Arts.

That meant he had acquired at least two Supreme Divine Arts and over twenty Great Divine Arts.

This was an unimaginable harvest.

One Mountain Treasure yielding so much—no one would believe it if it spread—but since this Mountain Treasure was the legacy of the Supreme Hall, such abundant benefits were entirely reasonable.

"So many benefits—I won't master them all in a lifetime!"

The little red bird Zhu Que's face glowed with ecstatic excitement; it watched other races' treasure arts and the Grass Character Sword Art, flapping its wings vigorously.

As for Zhu Yan, its face was filled with joy as it sat there meditating on the treasure arts.

In the days that followed, Fang Yu also remained there, quietly meditating on countless Great Divine Arts and Supreme Divine Arts, pondering them deeply with his intellect.

Sword qi surged into the heavens; nine leaves gradually formed outside Fang Yu's body—silver grass leaves, also sword leaves—that fluttered lightly, slicing through the heavens, stunning gods and terrifying buddhas.

This sword light was too sharp, supremely dominant.

This was indeed a supreme divine art, its power boundless, far surpassing the Great Freedom Mysterious Golden Sword Qi, and now it had taken root in his lungs.

To this day, his heart housed the Supreme Divine Art—Heavenly True Fire—and his lungs housed the Supreme Divine Art—the Grass Character Sword Art.

His magic power continued to rise as he further studied the Six Paths Reincarnation Heavenly Art.

There was simply too much to comprehend now; he had to take it step by step.

"Ah, Grandpa, look—this village's worship spirit is so strange! Why is it just a charred old willow tree struck by lightning, half-dead and barely alive?"

While Fang Yu, Zhu Que, Zhu Yan, and others were meditating on the treasure arts within the Mountain Treasure, a voice rang out beyond Stone Village.

It was a snow-white feather, five to six meters long, glowing with white radiance, appearing utterly sacred; upon it stood an old man, two boys, and two very beautiful little girls—so lovely they seemed like fairies.

Their eyes shimmered, glancing with radiant charm.

"What a strange worship spirit—still alive after all that? Just one branch left, oh, and a tiny sprout—clearly, after the lightning strike, it birthed supreme new power. None of you dare compete with me—this willow branch is mine."

A child, five or six years old, sat atop a dragon-like beast; suddenly, his gaze fell upon Stone Village and the Willow Spirit, and he sneered, leaping straight off the dragon's back and landing on the ground.

"Something's off—that willow worship spirit endured a great calamity, reborn from destruction; its lone branch and sprout must be a supreme treasure!"

Another voice spoke, eyes gleaming with greed.

"You all want to challenge me? Go ahead—let's see who's the true prodigy!"

The child who leapt from the dragon sneered.

"Fine, let's duel—but bring something worthy to exchange; don't come here with anything less than bone-reforming sacred blood to embarrass yourselves!"

Another child spoke coldly.

Outside Stone Village, one group after another of cultivators appeared: tribes riding silver unicorns, sons of Wang Hou standing atop giant bone fragments, powerful figures arriving on dragons, soaring through the air.

These people, young and old, had all arrived beyond Stone Village; the children were boasting loudly, while the adults' eyes gleamed with strange light, fixed on the ancient willow tree.

"Treasures have emerged from the mountains—we came to compete for them, but the children are just here for training."

A great figure's voice rang out.

"Fight—see who among you is the true prodigy; in twenty years, who will rule here."

"You are all children of heaven—fight if you must, but don't casually destroy others' worship spirits."

Some adults spoke—terrible masters renowned across this land.

The child who leapt from the dragon came from Luo Fu Marsh, named Jiao Peng; though only a few years old, his voice was piercingly sharp, and he radiated overwhelming dominance.

"I'm taking this willow branch—anyone who disagrees, come try!"

Inside Stone Village, Zhu Que and Zhu Yan turned their gazes toward the newcomers.

"Has it always been this bold?"