Swords of the Immortal World

The six cultivators were terrified out of their wits. They didn't stop until they had flown another several dozen li. Hearts pounding, they looked at each other in shock.

"Did... did you just see that? We were knocked flying by a sneeze?!"

"It... seems so."

"How terrifying! Is this the mortal world or hell itself?!"

Even now, their hearts were racing. Was this the legendary mortal world, where only low-level martial artists dwelled? It seemed more like a strange land where crouching tigers and hidden dragons were the norm.

Several dozen li away, a shiftless young man staggered along. He looked for all the world like a street-corner idler, muttering to himself as he climbed Mount Hua.

"So they just let me sleep on that snowy peak in the Western Frontier, huh? Party's over, everyone's gone, and nobody bothers to wake me... Ah-choo! I feel like I've slept for centuries... Damn it."

By now, Mount Hua was packed. The old madman's powers were certainly astonishing, but that fair-skinned child of five or six years old was even more jaw-dropping. Could this be the legendary return to youth?

That old madman, who had lived who knew how many centuries, actually called a little brat 'Master.' It was bizarre to the point of heresy. Truly, beyond that mountain there was always a higher peak.

Many people crowded around, but to everyone's shock, the old madman vanished in a flash. And that fair-skinned child, who had been munching on a sugar-coated gourd with obvious enjoyment, also disappeared from before their eyes as if he were a dream or an illusion.

"What masters!"

"Peerless experts!"

Chen Fang and Fairy Qingyun were both deeply startled. Shocked by the old madman's methods and stunned by the child's identity, they looked forward to this 'Mount Hua Discourse' with great anticipation.

Over the next three days, more people gathered on Mount Hua. And as everyone had guessed, the cultivators arrived.

Three days passed in a hurry. Finally, the appointed day arrived.

Amid the expectant gazes of the crowd, several renowned elders of the mortal world stepped forward to preside over this grand gathering. But just at that moment, something terrifying happened.

From distant heavens, a streak of sword-light, like a celestial maiden descending from beyond the skies, came slashing down.

A colossal sword, a thousand meters long, was like a writhing silver dragon, tearing the sky apart as it charged in with furious violence. Its momentum was horrifying beyond measure.

"Boom!"

The entire Mount Hua trembled. From the high heavens, an overwhelming wave of energy surged down. The giant sword plunged straight downward.

"Shiiing!"

The thousand-meter-long sword embedded itself in the summit of Mount Hua. Amid the brilliant morning glow, it gleamed with a cold, sinister light, exuding an eerie, oppressive power.

This was an extremely grave provocation. The Mount Hua Discourse had barely begun when a cultivator planted a giant sword on the peak, clearly intending to disrupt the gathering.

It certainly intimidated many of those present. A thousand-meter sword, sweeping horizontally—who could stop it? One could imagine this cultivator's power and menace.

The scene fell into dead silence. But at that moment, a shiftless-looking young man sneezed, completely out of place, instantly shattering the deathly stillness.

"Ah... ah-choo!"

He rubbed his nose and ambled toward the giant sword, mumbling, "They say a sneeze means someone's thinking of you. Who's thinking of me? Could it be Chang'e? I'll have to go to the moon and check it out someday. Oh, what a big piece of scrap iron. Probably worth quite a bit of wine money. I'll reluctantly take it off your hands."

Something astonishing happened. He walked up to the giant sword, slapped its blade, and a burst of dazzling light erupted. The thousand-meter-long sword instantly shrank by several hundred meters.

Then he gave it another hard kick. The sword body issued a huge metallic ring, and sharp sword-qi soared into the sky. But the fierce, unstoppable beam could not harm him in the slightest. The shiftless young man yawned, stretched, and leaned lazily against the flying sword.

With such a lackadaisical attitude, he had refined the thousand-meter sword down to less than ten meters. The blade gleamed with countless rays of light and a thousand auspicious colors, illuminating the entire summit of Mount Hua.

A cold snort came from the distant sky. The ten-meter sword shot skyward, carrying the young rogue along with it.

The moment the giant sword rose into the air, it transformed into a colossal dragon, roaring as it turned and lunged to tear the young rogue apart.

"Hmph!"

The shiftless young man let out a cold snort. His entire demeanor changed in an instant. The previous lassitude vanished, replaced by a shocking, heaven-overwhelming aura. He punched, striking the silver dragon's head with brutal force.

"Clang!"

The sound shook heaven and earth. The surrounding mountains seemed to tremble. The silver dragon was sent flying, turning back into a flying sword. Then, with a flash of light, it shot off into the distant sky.

A figure emerged at the horizon—an ethereal, ageless old man. He stood atop the giant sword, riding it like an ancient immortal, robes fluttering, with an air of celestial grace. His transcendent bearing was indescribably elegant.

"Hey, you old buzzard, where are you from? The cultivator realm? Or did you run away from Mount Emei?"

This shiftless young man really did look and sound like a street punk. Everyone stared in shock. They had thought this explosive warrior must be a venerable elder, but they never expected him to act like this...

The old man standing on the giant sword snorted. "Stop playing the fool. Who are you?"

"You got issues, pal. I asked first. Fine, I'll tell you—I'm a saint. Your turn."

"I come from the Cultivator Realm." The old cultivator was celestial and elegant, with a detached bearing. His eyes shot two purple beams at the rogue-like young man.

"Don't wave that sword technique in front of me. It's just condensing spirit energy into the eyes to shoot sword-light. A cheap trick. If I wanted, I could shoot sword-qi out of my pores." He looked utterly nonchalant, then opened his mouth and sneezed: "Ah... ah-choo!"

A violent wave of energy swept across the sky like a hurricane, like the destructive wind from beyond the thirty-third heaven. It instantly scattered the two purple beams. The residual shockwave hit the cultivator, and the earth, wood, and stone atop a distant mountain were blown into the sky.

"Who are you, really?" The old cultivator finally showed a hint of gravity.

"Asking my real name? Doesn't matter—I'll tell you. I'm called Heaven Beyond Heaven." The rogue-like mortal master said to the old cultivator casually, "That sword of yours—did you refine it in the Yellow River? Otherwise it couldn't be that tough. But let me warn you: if you're thinking of messing with that Ancestral Dragon, you'd better give up right now. Even if nobody bothered you and you just went ahead with your greed, you'd end up dead without a doubt."

"You... know?" The old cultivator's expression changed.

"What's the secret?" He smiled offhandedly. "The mortal world doesn't have many experts left, and can't stand up to the cultivator realm. But the things of the mortal world... aren't so easy to touch. Anyone with greedy intentions will pay a bitter price."

"It seems we've underestimated the mortal world." The old cultivator sighed.

"Underestimated?" The young rogue laughed and joked. "Underestimated? You'll be crying soon enough. If someone carelessly opens the seal of the Nine Provinces, the cultivator realm will be wiped out to the last man."

"You..." The old cultivator showed a trace of anger. "The mortal world is already finished. Don't talk about destroying other realms."

"I can't be bothered with you. If the seal of the Nine Provinces is lifted, you have no idea what will happen." The young rogue looked disdainful, showing none of the bearing of a senior master. He spoke shiftlessly: "I suggest you all scram while you still can, or there won't be anyone left to bury you. And today, stop yapping here—it's really annoying. Better get lost now."

"If you want us to leave today, let the younger generation duel ten matches. If we lose, we'll leave immediately." The old cultivator was not angered.

As soon as he said this, over twenty cultivators flew in, and ten of them stepped forward.

"Fine. No problem." The young rogue agreed at once, then shouted down below: "Man Beyond Man, come out and chase these swordsmen away for me."

"Pah! Heaven Beyond Heaven, don't take advantage of me. I'm half a generation older than you." A fair-skinned child of five or six, biting into a sugar-coated gourd, flew up into the sky.

The rogue-like Heaven Beyond Heaven shot him a sidelong glance. "You're just a little brat. Perfect match for them."

"Nonsense." Man Beyond Man glared at him fiercely. "Let my disciple take care of them." The fair-skinned child shouted downward: "Mountain Beyond Mountain, come up here and chase away these guys who think a sword makes them celestial maidens."

The old madman rushed into the sky. When he appeared, all the spectators below were stunned again, followed by a buzz of discussion.

As for the ten cultivators preparing for battle, they panicked. They had heard about a terrifying old madman. If he fought them, they could already imagine the outcome—this was a freak.

The old cultivator snorted. "I said it was a contest of the younger generation. He must be several centuries old, maybe even over a thousand years."

The rogue Heaven Beyond Heaven and the child Man Beyond Man shrugged, looking impatient. "Well, what can we do? The true traditions of the mortal world are broken, passed down in fragments. Of the people who can actually hold up their end, he's the youngest we've got. You don't want us to send those people, do you?" They pointed at the crowd below. "They can't even fly. How are they supposed to fight you? Of course, it's not their fault—the Nine Provinces are broken, and their cultivation can't advance. Wait until the overseas cultivators arrive; they can duel you."

The old madman chuckled foolishly. "I'll go find someone."

Flash! With a flicker of light, he vanished from midair and appeared abruptly beside Xiao Chen. His grimy hand clapped onto Xiao Chen's shoulder. "Kid, time to repay a debt."

Xiao Chen found it strange—they had never met before, and he was currently disguised.

"How did you come back from the World of Immortality?" The old madman's words instantly stunned Xiao Chen.