Chapter 257: The Four Palace Masters, United Against the Legend

The aged sorcerer pressed his palm to the ground, and the array he had prepared erupted in an instant—golden runes spread outward from him like wildfire, a pattern tracing back to the origin of the Witchcraft Calamity of the Chi Emperor's lineage centuries ago.

It was exquisitely tailored to suppress the Chi Emperor's bloodline; the intricate golden patterns unfolded into yin-yang, the Eight Trigrams, and myriad complex formations, densely packed, branching from one thousand and eighty variations until they reached four thousand three hundred and twenty configurations.

The golden array blanketed the entire mountain and river landscape, then rotated and shifted at countless angles and directions, churning the primordial qi.

The Whale Fisher sat up slightly, studying the array, and said:

"Excellent array!"

"Such hatred!"

He thought to himself: "This is an array specifically designed for Ji Chengfeng. In terms of execution alone, it surpasses me—I can be proud of it." The old sorcerer's white hair whipped wildly as the initial four thousand three hundred and twenty Qimen Dunjia configurations locked rigidly onto a single direction.

The man in blue robes paced forward, stepping calmly, one step at a time.

Li Guanyi felt an instinctive terror surge through him—as if his blood were reversing its flow—utterly unlike his first encounter with Ji Chengfeng; now, there was no Sword Mad Murong Longtu beside him, and Ji Chengfeng had already gathered his full momentum.

At that very moment, Ximen Hengrong launched a sudden attack toward Li Guanyi; Li Guanyi raised his battle halberd and braced himself against the Grandmaster, while the Fire Qilin roared, ready to spew flame—both men unleashed their ultimate techniques simultaneously.

But at that instant, a hand reached out from behind Li Guanyi.

Li Guanyi had never noticed the owner of that hand.

The hand's owner seized Li Guanyi's wrist with one hand and Ximen Hengrong's with the other; the explosive power of both men vanished instantly, swallowed as if by Wang Yang—and then, with effortless ease, the man pulled their wrists apart in opposite directions.

"What kind of spectacle is this, brawling like children?"

The voice was rough and loud; a giant nearly two meters tall in Li Guanyi's eyes, bearded and unkempt, had not even used any Wu Gong or ultimate technique—yet he seized their wrists and effortlessly separated two men who had just unleashed their peak arts.

Li Guanyi said: "Elder…?"

The giant laughed: "From the Mohists."

With a flick of his wrist, he shattered Ximen Hengrong's sixty-year internal energy; he extended a finger and tapped it once against Ximen Hengrong's third eye—a shimmering light scattered downward, severing the suppression of the Longevity Blood.

Ximen Hengrong's awareness returned; his eyes cleared.

In an instant, he recognized the situation: "Elder Mo Xie!"

"Li Guanyi?!"

Ximen Hengrong seemed to recall something; the moment his reason returned, he urgently asked: "I had a disciple come here—Li Guanyi—what happened to him?!"

The boy did not answer. Ximen Hengrong opened his mouth, then let out a bitter laugh:

"... Is he dead?"

The Grandmaster of the Northern Region of Chen State trembled: "He came from an ordinary farming family. He joined my martial school and worked harder than any noble-born disciple—that's why I brought him along this time. But he… he's dead…"

Ximen Hengrong's eyes turned red. Mo Xie said: "Hold your mind steady!"

"Or you'll be influenced by Ji Chengfeng again."

Ximen Hengrong looked at the Mohist Mo Juzi, then released his grip and knelt heavily, forehead striking the ground; his aged voice cracked: "As a teacher, I failed to avenge my disciple—and I caused his death through my own weakness."

"I accepted his tuition: ten strips of cured meat."

"Elder, please kill Ji Chengfeng. I…"

Veins bulged on Ximen Hengrong's face; his rich internal qi exploded outward, warping the air around him—clearly, even the Mohist Mo Juzi could not fully dispel Ji Chengfeng's control; Ximen Hengrong's face twisted grotesquely.

Ximen Hengrong rose, and in his final moment of clarity, sprinted toward a nearby cliff edge and roared:

"We martial cultivators must control our own life and death. I lack the courage to take my own life—but I will not drag you down with me!" He gathered his internal qi inward, then leapt straight off the cliff, letting himself plummet.

The Motian Sect's beast, the Motian Eagle, dove down, its talons seizing Ximen Hengrong's shoulders, trying to lift him—but unable to shake him off, Ximen Hengrong clutched the flying eagle to his chest, sealed his internal qi like a stone, and plummeted straight down a thousand zhang.

But a beam of Buddhist light caught him, gently lowering him to the side.

A short, white-bearded monk walked slowly forward.

The Whale Fisher lifted his gaze slightly: "A monk from the Central Plains, and Mo Xie of the Mohists—rare to see these two act. It seems Ji Chengfeng's deeds have stirred even the academies that claim neutrality."

Mo Xie wielded an uncommon heavy sword, as if forged straight from a furnace—shapeless, heavy, and domineering. He said to Li Guanyi: "You are Guanyi. My Mohist disciples have told me some of your thoughts."

"I'd like to speak with you more later."

"But now, this is no longer your battlefield."

He reached out, seized Li Guanyi, and in one motion hurled him high into the air; Li Guanyi's physique and martial arts meant nothing before this man who looked forty—he was as powerless as a child.

Then the Fire Qilin was also snatched up and thrown back.

Mo Xie gripped his sword, staring at the blue-robed Longevity Master: "Ji Chengfeng, the legendary figure of the world—I too wish to see if the so-called martial legend is truly invincible as the tales claim."

Ji Chengfeng lifted his gaze; qi in the air coalesced into countless blades that slashed forward—already bearing one-third of the Sword Mad's aura—but Mo Xie only laughed heartily: "Using such tricks? That's nothing remarkable."

The heavy Mohist Mo Juzi sword swung, majestic and vast, its qi tearing like a storm—earth and sky trembled; Ji Chengfeng's immense internal qi surged skyward.

The wind rose.

Li Guanyi adjusted his body midair and landed steadily, driving his halberd into the ground; it slid backward ten paces, carving a jagged scar across the earth. Li Guanyi gasped for breath, watching the battle.

The sky churned with violent winds, dark clouds pressing down, crushing the breath from the chest; Mo Xie and Ji Chengfeng clashed—the Mohist Mo Juzi's power was terrifying, swinging his sword as if wielding an entire mountain range.

Li Guanyi felt the ground trembling beneath him.

It was no illusion.

Ji Chengfeng's techniques reached peerless refinement—each movement calm and unhurried, his eyes showing not the faintest ripple; Li Guanyi recognized the Motian Sect's moves, Qu Zai Shi's sword and knife forms, even Murong Longtu's sword techniques.

He had learned them all—and now used them against Mo Xie.

The Mohist Mo Juzi, strongest in physical power among the Six Palace Masters of the Academy.

His techniques were plain, unadorned.

He showed none of the aura of a supreme master.

At that very moment, the short monk moved.

The old monk clasped his hands, stepped forward, and his entire body radiated lustrous golden light; as he advanced, the golden light spread outward, forming a Buddha image the size of a mountain range.

A hundred zhang tall, entirely lustrous.

The Fire Qilin's true form, before this Buddhist manifestation, was no larger than a kitten.

Li Guanyi judged the old monk's Buddhist manifestation to be nearly three hundred meters tall—the lustrous light transparent, golden Buddhist characters shifting unpredictably, and mere movement generated gales.

He clasped his hands together, radiating an immense and boundless Buddhist aura.

Then, his ten fingers locked together, forming a fist like a hammer.

Raised high!

Behind him appeared twelve great wheels of wisdom.

The gale scattered the surrounding clouds.

Gold light glowed along the horizon, as if the Buddha himself had appeared—compassionate, serene—then the motion halted, gathering momentum.

With ferocious force, it slammed down upon Ji Chengfeng!

Those fists, clenched like hammers, summoned visible gales of wind that tore through the void, sparking lightning and fire as they crashed down upon Ji Chengfeng's head!

Boom!!!

For an instant, silence. A massive shockwave erupted at the edge of Li Guanyi's vision, then expanded outward, exploding into a mushroom cloud that slowly rose upward.

Li Guanyi's heart thundered violently.

Jiankuang had never fought with his full strength before him—this was the first time Li Guanyi witnessed the full power of a top-tier warrior in this world.

The Whale Fisher remarked: "The Buddha's Arhat Fist—its thunderous awakening blow."

"The most basic Buddhist fist technique, yet wielded by this old monk—it is truly extraordinary."

The Living Buddha of the Central Lands paced.

"Ji Chengfeng, in those days you misled the Buddhist lineage, pursuing the 【Flesh Buddha】, causing Buddhist disciples to use monks and believers as living stakes, piercing their perineums with giant drills and nailing them to lotus thrones, pouring molten copper over them to sculpt flesh into Buddha statues."

"They called it immortality."

"They called it: the flesh is Buddha."

"I slew three hundred and seventy-three followers of the Flesh Buddha back then, exterminating the entire Buddhist lineage. Today, you—the last one—"

The Buddhist manifestation opened its eyes.

Its gaze blazed, transforming into a three-headed, six-armed form—the Wrathful Wisdom King.

Golden flames burned and melted the nearby mountains; the manifestation reached out, slowly drawing forth rock that coalesced into a colossal Vajra Club. The old monk's eyes bulged as he roared:

"You deserve to be liberated!"

The earlier strike that shook the earth had not harmed Ji Chengfeng—he hovered midair, facing both Mo Xie and the Living Buddha together, yet remained ethereal. Suddenly, a qin melody rose, and snowflakes fell from the sky, pure and white.

Each snowflake transformed into a silver thread.

Countless silver threads descended from heaven, each hundreds of zhang long, binding Ji Chengfeng utterly. He could not move. White cranes circled above, and upon one sat a white-haired female Daoist, cross-legged, her dust whisk hanging three thousand zhang downward.

The Whale Fisher lifted his gaze slightly and said:

"Ancient path, western wind, cold plum defying snow—Xuegong Daoist Sect, Su Yue Zhenren."

"This boy has quite the prestige."

The female Xiantian flicked her wrist; frost subtly formed on her dust whisk, tightly restraining Ji Chengfeng. Mo Xie laughed loudly, his sword pressed to the ground, racing toward Ji Chengfeng at a speed invisible to the eye, while the Living Buddha also struck.

The colossal Buddhist manifestation brought down the Vajra Club with crushing force.

Ji Chengfeng, in his green robe, showed no expression.

He merely gazed calmly at Li Guanyi.

In the records of the Tower of the World's First, it was only words—but now, facing him, Li Guanyi felt an unspeakable oppressive pressure. Suddenly, sharp sword qi surged as all three supreme arts descended.

Interwoven sword qi swept across Qingpao Changsheng Ke.

An old man in a black Confucian robe stepped forward, wielding a longsword.

In his left hand he held a wine flask; in his right, a broadsword without an edge.

He softly chanted: "Can a grudge of ten generations still be avenged?"

"Even after a hundred generations—it may!"

Behind him, Ji Chengfeng was sliced into four parts, crashing to the ground with a thunderous crash.

The Whale Fisher rose to his feet and said calmly: "Gongyang Su Wang—the 【Virtue】 Sword, one of the three divine weapons of the Confucian Sect: 【Virtue】, 【Benevolence】, 【Righteousness】."

Li Guanyi watched as the four sect lords joined forces to instantly sever Ji Chengfeng into four pieces. He exhaled, momentarily dazed, and said: "Is it over?"

The Whale Fisher said: "Over?"

He sneered: "What are you talking about?"

Li Guanyi froze, then saw the four sect lords had not lowered their guard—they each held divine weapons, watching the slain green-robed man. In an instant, the severed body changed!

Sword qi, saber flashes, fists, and kicks erupted simultaneously.

All four sect lords drew their weapons.

Divine aura exploded in all directions, warping the air before Li Guanyi's eyes—he saw a figure appear before him. The Whale Fisher stood between him and Yao Guang, his right hand extended, and the twisted air calmed.

Li Guanyi had no time to thank him—he turned to the battle, his face paling.

Four Ji Chengfengs!

The four severed pieces of Ji Chengfeng's body shattered into pure vitality, then reassembled into four Ji Chengfengs—one clenched his fist against Mo Xie, one wielded a sword, matching Murong Longtu's sword art against Gongyang Su Wang.

Su Yue Zhenren and the Living Buddha of the Central Lands each had an opponent.

Li Guanyi's back was soaked in cold sweat: "This, this!"

The Whale Fisher said: "Why is he called a legend?"

"Precisely because, to ordinary mortals, a legend's methods are indistinguishable from those of immortals. You don't think that Jiankuang overpowering Ji Chengfeng in the Tower of the World's First records means Ji Chengfeng is weak, do you?"

"Jiankuang suppressed Ji Chengfeng."

"That only proves Jiankuang's strength."

The four Ji Chengfengs clashed; the four sect lords unleashed their supreme arts, yet could only contain them. At that moment, the old sorcerer's array shifted again—Li Guanyi's waist, where the red cord bound the bamboo flute, trembled violently.

Then it snapped free from his waist, roaring like a dragon as it soared into the sky, vanishing instantly. Li Guanyi turned his gaze—and saw the bamboo flute spinning slowly downward, caught in a pair of Bai Xi's hands.

The Whale Fisher stepped forward slowly, his left hand behind his back, his right index and middle fingers extended like a sword.

His voice became clear and calm, devoid of arrogance and ferocity:

"You two, fall back."

He said to Li Guanyi and Yao Guang.

The great earth trembled; the Four Palace Masters joined forces to battle Ji Chengfeng's life embodiment, yet the falling rocks and shattered stones suddenly lost their weight and soared into the sky, until even the mountains lifted upward.

The Gongsun Clan's fortress swayed violently; finally, only the Gongsun Clan and a portion of the underlying rocks remained, becoming pillars supporting the fortress, while all other stones and things converged together.

They formed a colossal, stone-crowned dragon.

Hundreds of zhang tall, its length immeasurable, its rocky hide jagged like sculpture, like a painted scroll; its blue robes flared, its bai xi fingers lightly tapped the dragon's eyes, and a thread of vitality ignited within the rock dragon's pupils.

The man in blue robes stood atop the dragon's head, his temples streaked with white, his hands bai xi and slender, playing a bamboo flute with a clear, distant tone—painting the pupils, granting life to the rock dragon—then he stepped forward upon the dragon, his bearing serene.

The Gongsun Clan's disciples were already pale with terror.

Could any wu gong in the world reach such a realm?

The Whale Fisher said: "... Indeed, this man was preparing too."

"Only Jian Kuang's swordplay—so swift it leaves no time to react—could force Ji Chengfeng to reveal his true power," Gongyang Su Wang laughed loudly. "All of you, act!"

The Confucian sect master, who had just been entangled with Ji Chengfeng's embodiment, slashed it apart with several strokes of his sword; the other three did the same.

The woman riding the white crane retracted her fly-whisk.

Then she shook it—three thousand zhang of filaments fell, binding a desolate mountain.

"Rise!"

That mountain was ripped straight from the earth!

It hurtled toward the rock dragon.

The Mo Juzi, the Living Buddha of Zhongtu, Gongyang Su Wang.

All seized mountains and hurled them down—four desolate peaks occupied the four cardinal positions, trapping the bamboo-flute-playing Ji Chengfeng within; each took their stance: Su Yue Zhenren's dharma form became a bright moon, the Living Buddha's wrathful wisdom king, the Mo Juzi's back revealed only a boundless sky, and Gongyang Su Wang alone faintly manifested an ancient scholar.

All seemed to hold the heavens above and tread the earth beneath, each initiating their incantations.

Their voices were either vast, or cold, or serene, or compassionate.

"Four Symbols: Seal the Spirits!"

Yuan qi surged violently, magnificent beyond measure.

Layer upon layer of arrays appeared—using precisely Si Wei's created 【Four Symbols: Seal the Spirits Array】; even an ordinary array could suppress the Fire Qilin, yet now four of the world's supreme experts, representatives of the Three Teachings, activated it together.

Confucianism, Mohism, Buddhism, Daoism.

Four Symbols: Seal the Spirits!

Ji Chengfeng leapt into the air to fight; his moves were tyrannical, and for a moment the array could not contain the man in blue robes—the four embodiments had been cut down by the Four Palace Masters, yet at that very moment, Li Guanyi saw that as the four masters activated the array, the four severed embodiments slowly dispersed.

They became eight Ji Chengfengs.

Could this truly be human wu gong?

Li Guanyi said:

"Great-grandfather, did you really suppress a monster like this all along?"

Gongyang Su Wang, wielding his sword against Ji Chengfeng's embodiments, remained calm and composed, controlling the array; yet Su Yue Zhenren and Mo Xie Ju Zi struggled—Gongyang Su Wang, sword in hand, faced four alone, initiating the array with one hand, yet still serene.

Among the Three Teachings and Nine Streams, only Gongyang Su Wang of the Confucians subdued others through ritual.

Winds rose, clouds surged; Li Guanyi suspected that even ten thousand armored soldiers could not enter this battlefield—only a top-tier corps of ten thousand, under a master general of zongshi rank, could hope to step into this war.

The Four Palace Masters held their ground against the legendary martial artist.

Li Guanyi suddenly realized.

He had exhausted himself, relying on Changsheng Ke's cultivation body and the peak sixth-tier power of the Fire Qilin, merely to hold off Chen's northern realm master, Ximen Hengrong; only when Ximen Hengrong and Kou Yulie joined forces could they match the legendary realm master Chen Chengbi.

Yet the Palace Masters of the Imperial Academy were likely even stronger than old Chen Chengbi.

Even a non-full-strength martial legend required four palace-master-level supreme experts to even outmatch him.

Thus, the world's ultimate martial warriors became clear before Li Guanyi's eyes.

He felt a fierce longing for his own cultivation.

At the same time, he instinctively wondered: how many elite troops would he need to command to even participate in such a clash? Fifty thousand? One hundred thousand?!

And Ying's Grand Tutor, himself a martial legend, leading only a few thousand troops, required the combined might of Tai Ping Gong, the Regent, Xiao Wuliang, and Yue Pengwu at their peak to match him—what grandeur would his strike possess if he commanded a million armored soldiers?

Li Guanyi felt both fear and yearning.

Fear that the pinnacle of martial artist and the pinnacle of divine general were one and the same; yearning and exhilaration at the thought that he would one day fight this divine general.

And a faint disbelief.

How had Chen Dingye dared to plot against his father, Tai Ping Gong, and Marshal Yue?

Is this man mentally broken?

Li Guanyi could not fathom how anyone in the world could be so short-sighted.

Even when the nation was in peril, he placed the stability of his throne above all else.

This battle had utterly transcended the understanding of ordinary martial folk.

Everyone knew they had no right to even observe up close.

The surrounding storm winds could tear apart flesh and bone.

Yet the old sorcerer with white hair suddenly brightened his eyes—he slowly lifted a sword, its blade covered in layers of golden inscriptions; the one weakness of Ji Chengfeng, deduced by the array's four thousand three hundred and twenty calculations, had been uncovered.

The old sorcerer rose silently and trudged toward the battlefield.

Li Guanyi, who had been spellbound, saw this and his expression changed—he hesitated slightly, then rode the Fire Qilin forward. "Elder."

The silver-haired girl moved to follow, but the Whale Fisher blocked her.

The Whale Fisher's eyes held admiration: "Don't go."

"A man has his own duties. A promise worth a thousand gold—that is true manhood."

The sorcerer looked at Li Guanyi and said, "You..."

Li Guanyi said: "When I invited you here, I said there would be a chance to kill Ji Chengfeng—at the very least, to help you sever his immortal body. Now is the time for me to fulfill my promise."

He urged the Fire Qilin forward and whispered:

"I know a little of the Four Symbols Soul-Sealing Array."

"Li Guanyi will carve a path for you to enter this array and kill."

Li Guanyi had the old sorcerer mount the Fire Qilin as well, then the Fire Qilin charged forward through flames, its shockwaves scattering; Li Guanyi had once learned the old sorcerer's insights into the Four Symbols Soul-Sealing Array while fighting Hou Zhongyu, under Hou Zhongyu's control.

He never expected such insight would prove effective at this moment.

Hou Zhongyu, who killed his master to achieve immortality.

The old sorcerer, who abandoned immortality to avenge his disciple.

The sorcerer once banished by the Witchcraft Uprising was about to exterminate the last bloodline of that imperial lineage.

Fate seemed to complete a fated loop at this moment—Li Guanyi and the Fire Qilin's power carried the old sorcerer into the great array of the Four Palace Lords; he saw that even now, Ji Chengfeng remained calm and composed.

His face showed not a trace of fear, cold as ice.

The Four Palace Lords unleashed their ultimate arts; as they activated the array, they matched Ji Chengfeng evenly—Ji Chengfeng's martial arts had reached the Grand Master realm; only a sword sage like Sword Madman, unparalleled before or after, could possibly create an opening in him.

"No opening means no way through..."

Li Guanyi's Martial Path Realm told him that Ji Chengfeng's body now radiated a perfect, unified qi—yin and yang flowing, endlessly renewing; though it appeared defenseless, both he and the old sorcerer would be killed if they drew near.

At that moment, Ji Chengfeng's body suddenly hesitated.

Far beyond the northern frontier.

Here, beyond the border between the Tujue and Ying states, lay a place called the Five Lotus Pool Volcanoes, existing for hundreds of thousands of years, its scenery magnificent and beautiful; during the era of Xue Shen and Chen Baxian, it had erupted once.

That eruption lasted two full years.

It had once been an absolute dead zone, untouched by any footstep.

But atop the Five Lotus Pool Volcanoes, a wild-haired old man climbed up, his face bruised and swollen, clutching one arm, sneering: "Hmph, hahaha! You hit me? You hit me?!"

"Old man here will show you."

"Throwing you into this volcanic pool that's existed for eight hundred thousand years—can it break your flawless, unbroken form?" The severed arm seemed to sense something, instinctively shifting, extending; within three breaths, it regrew an arm, a shoulder, half his torso.

Master Siming pressed one hand against Ji Chengfeng's body:

"Dust to dust, earth to earth."

"All earthly splendor is but a dream—better to return all to nothing."

Master Siming lowered his gaze, solemn and compassionate.

Then he hurled the thing away.

Raised his right leg and kicked with all his might!

His face twisted in fury.

Go!

The old man's right eye was swollen shut, yet he raised his middle finger.

He spat toward it, roaring curses:

"Keh-pei!"

"Die, Ji Chengfeng!"