Chapter 85: Dao Discourse at the Spirit Platform

The monk remained silent, his gaze growing ever more fixed on the clash between the two figures in the distance.

From the very beginning until now, the exchange between them had actually taken only a few breaths of time.

The spectators suddenly heard the sound of thunder. The rolling peals did not shake the heavens and the earth, carrying instead a muffled resonance. A shudder arose deep within the hearts of the onlookers, instantly captivating and stunning their minds.

In that split second, the iron sword in Daoist Shi’s hand thrust forward countless times, with a speed that seemed capable of piercing through space itself. The thunderous roar was nothing less than the symphony created by the iron sword tearing through the air, harmonizing with some profound and mysterious law of the universe to produce a celestial sound.

In an instant, the countless vibrations at the tip of the iron sword unerringly annihilated the suddenly appearing sword qi, one by one.

Only now did Daoist Shi display the peerless grace of a sword immortal, along with a mastery of swordsmanship that forbade anyone from taking him lightly, including Chen Jianmei.

While the watching crowd could not help but tremble in awe at Daoist Shi’s supreme swordsmanship, they simultaneously found Shen Lian’s arrogance laughable. After all, there was a whole realm of difference between them, yet he dared to so casually look down upon a veteran cultivator who had already attained the Returning Elixir stage.

Shen Lian’s emotions remained completely undisturbed and unchanged. Though he was not yet a supreme swordsman, he possessed all the qualities of one: calm and composed.

The thunderous roar generated by the piercing of the air could not cause him the slightest distraction.

Even though a mild stinging sensation pricked his eardrums, the blood and qi within his body remained heavy and settled, refusing to be shaken apart. The sword qi imparted by Mr. Su contained boundless mysteries, touching even upon some ineffable principles of heaven and earth, and Shen Lian had not yet cultivated it to an extremely profound level.

Nor did he intend to defeat Daoist Shi relying solely upon it.

Chen Jianmei maintained a leisurely demeanor. The thunder that caused the void to tremble dissipated the moment it reached him. He watched the two with a hint of amusement, while also understanding why Shen Lian chose not to use the Grand Void Divine Script.

In a certain sense, the Grand Void Divine Qi could be called the nemesis of all magic in the world, capable of dissolving the arts deployed by enemies.

Daoist Shi was a veteran Returning Elixir cultivator and a sword cultivator by origin; his vital energy had been condensed into sword qi, making it incomparably solid and dense. Even if Shen Lian could neutralize a portion of his opponent's attacks, it would place a tremendous burden upon his own body, leaving him with little chance of victory.

By countering with a wooden sword, he seemed constrained by the principle of metal overcoming wood. Yet Chen Jianmei alone perceived a strange peculiarity in Shen Lian’s wooden sword—an indescribable quality that caused his clear and unblemished sword heart to feel a sense of yearning.

In the blink of an eye, Shen Lian and Daoist Shi engaged in a true, head-on clash.

Although Daoist Shi had consumed a certain amount of sword intent in resolving those formless sword qi earlier, his iron sword was just beginning to display its sharpness and remained at its peak, using metal to conquer wood and holding an absolute upper hand.

In a single thought, the tip of the wooden sword and the tip of the iron sword crossed paths countless times. The sounds of wind and thunder surged. The two figures moved so swiftly they nearly vanished from sight, leaving behind only the surrounding vegetation snapping and breaking in an instant, while the ground appeared to have been overturned by some indescribable, massive force.

As the dust and smoke briefly lingered amidst the haze, the crowd could still make out two figures separating as they crossed paths, followed suddenly by a strange sound.

With extraordinary speed, Shen Lian’s wooden sword absorbed the Grand Void Divine Qi within his body, transforming it into the most fundamental energy. At the same time, the primordial vital energy of heaven and earth poured frantically into the wooden sword until it could no longer bear the strain and began to vibrate, its frequency rivaling the thunder produced by Daoist Shi’s iron sword just moments before.

Naturally, Daoist Shi would not allow Shen Lian to gather his breath so calmly right under his nose. Their countless rapid clashes a moment ago had also placed an immense burden upon his own body, which was why he was taking this brief moment to regulate his breath.

Yet Shen Lian was even more reckless than he, leaving himself not the slightest margin for recovery.

He could not possibly know what kind of torment Shen Lian had endured over the years by the Nether River. Although Shen Lian’s physique had not reached the indestructible realm of vajra-like sword cultivation, the impact of the magic power coursing through his body had virtually no adverse effect on him.

Even if Shen Lian were to erupt with all his magic power in a sudden burst, his physical constitution could fully withstand it.

Unlike Daoist Shi, who—even if he disregarded his own life—could not release all of his magic power in an instantaneous eruption.

This was precisely why, even upon reaching the Returning Elixir stage and remaining flesh and blood, not only was a cultivator’s magic power limited, but the explosive tolerance of the meridians and acupoints within their body was also capped.

Thus, only the Immortals of Longlife, those who had successfully refined their primordial spirit and ascended to the rank of earthly immortals, could truly be described as having boundless magic power and vast divine abilities.

This time, the tip of Daoist Shi’s iron sword did not tremble in the slightest, causing the void to echo with the chant of thunder. Man and sword merged into a single streak of cyan light, lunging straight toward Shen Lian without any further variations.

Even with eyes capable of discerning the finest minutiae, one could not detect a single flaw, deviation, or fluctuation in this linear sword technique.

This fusion of man and sword gave birth to a beauty of extreme simplicity.

It was much like a master painter drawing a single straight line with ink upon a sheet of pure white rice paper, instantly bringing the entire painting to life and evoking a boundless, lingering artistic conception.

Shen Lian’s wooden sword abruptly flared with light. At that exact moment, the setting sun shed its final lingering ray—a coincidence that felt as inevitable as destiny itself.

The wooden sword seemed as though it had been ignited; bright flames blossomed from its tip, and the onlookers fancied they heard the cry of a phoenix echoing in their ears. It was not transmitted through the air, but rather arrived like light itself, bypassing the eardrum and resonating directly within the mind.

A thought flashed through someone’s mind in an instant: wood generates fire, and fire overcomes metal.

The flame at the tip of the wooden sword closely resembled the head of a phoenix, its beak gently pecking forward to strike precisely at the streak of cyan light transformed by Daoist Shi.

The Daoist let out a soft hum, while the monk looked on in thoughtful contemplation.

The fire was no mortal flame, but rather manifested from the Nirvana fire of the phoenix.

A few droplets of molten iron fell from the air, striking the ground. Daoist Shi and his sword abruptly parted, both gazing fixedly at the iron sword, which was now missing a significant portion of its length.

His body suddenly burst apart, transforming into countless microscopic wisps of sword qi that pulverized his Daoist robe into fine dust and ashes.

Only a broken sword remained, emitting a low, ceaseless lament.

Shen Lian stood in the distance, his wooden sword casually tied at his waist, radiating a peerless demeanor that forbade anyone from daring to underestimate the refined and elegant youth.

Chen Jianmei walked leisurely to his side and patted Shen Lian on the shoulder, injecting a stream of ultra-pure sword qi into Shen Lian’s body to help smooth out the chaotic currents of energy flowing through his meridians and acupoints.

One young man, one youth, walking one after the other toward the Vast Sea.

Across a distance of ten miles, not a single demon or cultivator stepped out to block their path again.

After all, cultivators who disregarded their own lives like Daoist Shi were exceedingly rare. If Shen Lian had been heavily wounded, a few might have been willing to test the waters once more, but now, such an effort was clearly unnecessary.

The monk, wearing worn straw sandals, spoke aloud: "Fellow Daoist Huanzhen, with these two around, it seems Qingxuan will never come in last at the next Lingtai Dao Discussion."