C16 Your Sword Is My Sword

"I wonder if your master ever told you that the most lethal sword cultivators are those who refrain from drawing their swords."

Zhao Chengli was taken aback by these words, recalling his master's advice.

"Chengli, should someone speak of this, do not draw your sword."

He had yet to grasp the meaning of this advice, but he felt no need to. In previous battles against the Outer Demons, victory was swift. Now, with the city's defense array and the celestial cannons at the ready, even an Earthly Immortal from the Heavenly Realm would hesitate to cause trouble.

"What does it matter what he said? Outer Demons, today you won't escape. Stand back; I'll handle this."

With that, the long sword trailing behind him surged like a tidal wave.

The soldiers nearby appeared at ease, well aware of their City Lord's prowess. Once he engaged, there was little left for them to do.

Zhao Chengli's gaze sharpened as the swords arrayed behind him, poised like a regiment ready to charge. His right hand formed a sword gesture against his chest, and the sword array advanced relentlessly toward Xiaoming.

The young and impetuous Zhao Chengli had recently succeeded his master as City Lord. Though indifferent to power, his competitive spirit drove him; he didn't want to be the subject of gossip. Qingfeng City had faced the Outer Demons numerous times without ever capturing one, as if they were the stuff of myths. This time, Zhao Chengli was determined to slay an Outer Demon himself.

"Sword cultivators never seem to learn," Xiaoming grumbled, his tone tinged with annoyance as he fiddled with his faceplate. There was no inherent animosity between transmigrators and sword cultivators; he had no desire to provoke them.

His opinion of sword cultivators was neutral; they were indifferent to transmigrators, rarely seen in siege battles, yet they had defended both cultivators and transmigrators alike.

Their peculiar moral compass, which deemed 'bullying the weak' as evil, struck him as utterly irrational.

Xiaoming extracted the Dragon Leopard's Soul Sealing Stone from his storage ring and set it into the open armor on his palm. Channeling energy into the stone, his arm's plating began to emit purple ripples, blurring the space around him.

The sword formation, previously unstoppable, veered away from Xiaoming as though it had encountered something repulsive. Zhao Chengli watched in shock as his once invincible technique was effortlessly neutralized. Accustomed to opponents who couldn't face the onslaught and fled like mice, he found Xiaoming's resistance a complete reversal of his expectations.

Determined to prove his might, Zhao Chengli altered the sword formation repeatedly, transforming it into various deadly configurations like a meat grinder or a chainsaw. Yet, all his efforts seemed futile; Xiaoming stood unassailable, deflecting every sword thrust as if he were a bouncy ball. The swords rebounded off a seemingly thin shield that proved as impenetrable as iron, leaving Zhao Chengli desperate and outmatched.

"Is this the best you've got? Are all sword cultivators as feeble as you? Didn't you have your breakfast?" Xiaoming taunted, igniting a fire in Zhao Chengli. But even in his rage, he couldn't breach the slender shield.

The Sword Cultivator's technique, Ten Thousand Swords Returning to the Origin, though not physical, was a manifestation of condensed metallic energy. It was impervious to ordinary magnetic fields, yet that didn't mean it lacked magnetism. As it turned out, Xiaoming's magnetic shield left Zhao Chengli without recourse.

Provoked by Xiaoming's mocking, Zhao Chengli vanished from sight, only to reappear above Xiaoming with a resounding 'Ka!' Gripping his sword with both hands, he thrust it down onto the shield, but it barely penetrated before being repelled. Using the rebound, he executed a sweeping strike, and the surrounding sword formation followed suit, targeting the same spot.

Unfortunately for Zhao Chengli, cultivators lacked an understanding of magnetism. Simply imbuing the swords with lightning would have solved the problem, but Xiaoming's shield remained intact despite the relentless assault. Zhao Chengli realized that raw strength couldn't compensate for a gap in knowledge. With a forceful retreat, he put distance between himself and Xiaoming, reassessing the situation.

Xiaoming leaped into the air, his feet morphing into a red drill as he aimed a kick at Zhao Chengli's head. Zhao Chengli quickly enveloped himself in a bell-shaped shield crafted from his longsword. However, with a resounding crack, the sword-formed bell shattered, and the glowing red drill loomed larger in his vision, as if time itself had frozen in that instant.

A hook suddenly snagged Zhao Chengli's waist, yanking him aside. "Junior brother, you're helpless without me," Lu Chengyuan declared, extending a hand to help him up.

"I can handle this on my own."

As a gentle breeze cleared the dust, Xiaoming soared out of the massive crater he had created. "Disband your formation; you're no match for me."

Reluctantly, Zhao Chengli resorted to his last resort, his pride stung by the skeptical looks from the crowd. Shadows burst forth from behind him, and he unfurled the Universe Bag. A variety of longswords flew out, each wielded by a shadow positioned at eight strategic points around Xiaoming. They produced a Talisman Array inscribed with Yin and Yang symbols and cast it into the air above Xiaoming.

The swords that had been hovering around Xiaoming swiftly ascended, converging with the Talisman Array. The image of the Yin and Yang Eight Trigrams materialized overhead, and a beam of light descended, immobilizing him. Xiaoming, whose armor now felt significantly sluggish, recognized the Sword Sect's famed Infinite Eight Trigrams Formation at a glance.

His familiarity with the formation stemmed not from its strength but from the extensive time he had spent researching various metals and energy compositions to counter it. With the formation now complete above him, Xiaoming's curiosity was piqued. "It's been ages since I've encountered a sword cultivator. Well, today I'll teach you a lesson and conduct a little experiment."

Above him, the immense Yin and Yang symbol began to rotate slowly. Zhao Chengli clenched a sword gesture with his right hand, and the Five Elements Eight Trigrams Formation above Xiaoming unleashed a barrage of longswords, as relentless as a warship's artillery.

With the Talisman Array's enhancement, the barrage of swords seemed inexhaustible. The Sword Qi clones wielded their blades, executing elaborate and flashy techniques as they advanced.

At that moment, the sky was dominated by innumerable swords, transforming it into a veritable world of blades.

The Sword Qi doppelgangers lashed out with their several-meter-long Sword Qi, thrusting directly at Zhao Chengli. He was skeptical that any shield could withstand such Sword Qi.

For the average cultivator, this attack would spell certain doom. However, as the swords neared Xiaoming's head, they abruptly halted. The Sword Qi doppelgangers disintegrated into dust, and the diverse array of swords clattered to the ground.

Xiaoming's subsequent action terrified Zhao Chengli so much that he nearly wet himself. Xiaoming's left hand formed a sword gesture, and the once-still swords above his head began to orbit him, each one radiating a brilliant Sword Qi.

"This is the pinnacle of sword mastery!" Zhao Chengli's master had demonstrated this technique to him once, and its potency far surpassed his own playful sword moves.

He had gained access to the Everlasting Eight Trigrams Formation.

The strengths and weaknesses of sword cultivators were starkly evident. Since they solely focused on swordsmanship, they were helpless without their swords, knowing nothing beyond their blade skills.

It was often said that sword cultivators could conquer the world with just a sword gesture. However, the Heavenly Dao is impartial. Sword cultivators epitomized the ultimate offensive force, unlike other cultivators who had high offense but low defense. Sword cultivators, in contrast, had no defense whatsoever.

Opting for a strategy that emphasized both high offense and agility, they eschewed heavy armor, which would impede their speed. This led to the development of techniques like Sword Astral and Yin Yang Sword Shield, which were designed for survival.

The founder of the Sword Sect, Mr. Zheng Lian, famously stated:

"Any sword cultivator who relies on defense is nothing but a scoundrel. Don't talk to me about flimsy defenses. You won't even land a blow before you're dead. The best defense is a strong offense. The creed of a sword cultivator is simple: either I kill you, or you kill me."

Zheng Lian himself refuted, "I never said that!"

Now, Zhao Chengli deeply resonated with the adage, 'The most lethal sword cultivator is the one who refrains from drawing their sword.' He had never imagined that the demon before him was also a sword cultivator, with swordsmanship on par with his own.

The Boundless Eight Trigrams Formation above cascaded down like a breached celestial river. Xiaoming, with a sword seal in his left hand, summoned a swarm of long swords. Distracted for just a moment, he found it too late to evade the onslaught.

Zhao Chengli had often used this tactic against his foes. As fate would have it, the cycle of the Heavenly Dao was ironic; he never imagined he would meet his end by his own technique.

In a crucial moment, Lu Chengyun stepped in front of him, his twin hammers blooming like peony buds and unleashing black flames that melted the long swords upon contact.

Yet, Lu Chengyun alone could not withstand the relentless tide of swords. The soldiers atop the city walls fired their Immortal Elemental Cannons in defense, while Zhao Chengli, far from idle, contended with Xiaoming for control of the sword formation.

Xiaoming bore no grudge against the Sword Sect. Witnessing the scene unfold, he chose not to engage further, diverting two streams of his attack to the city's defensive formation, significantly easing Lu Chengyun's burden.

"He's trying to escape! Forget the Immortal Elemental Cannons and target that demon," commanded the city lord. The soldiers quickly redirected their cannons, and thick rays scoured the earth as they targeted Xiaoming.

Unperturbed, Xiaoming's right hand manipulated a slender black board that thickened and expanded into a towering black shield, tall enough to shield a person. It absorbed the barrage from the Immortal Elemental Cannons, its impact leaving white lines coursing through the shield to his left arm.

From the armor on his left arm, a rectangular cannon port the size of a pencil box emerged. Xiaoming channeled all the energy from the Immortal Elemental Cannon into this port, using its power to aid in breaching the formation.

"Junior Brother, use the city-guarding array now!" Lu Chengyun bellowed. But Zhao Chengli, engrossed in wresting control of the Eight Trigrams Array, could not afford the distraction.

With Herculean effort, Zhao Chengli finally reclaimed control of the Eight Trigrams Array. Brandishing his long sword alongside Lu Chengyun, they closed in on Xiaoming, who was shielded behind the tower shield.

Xiaoming had already made his escape, leaving behind nothing but an iron canister on the ground, its surface covered in characters that were rapidly changing in a way he couldn't recognize.

"Junior Brother, what is this?" Lu Chengyun handed the canister to Zhao Chengli. Any modern-day person would have fled at the sight, because who in their right mind would hold onto a ticking time bomb and examine it closely?

"I have no idea," Zhao Chengli admitted.

"Ten, nine, eight..." As the countdown continued, Zhao Chengli sensed danger and hastily tossed aside the canister, shouting, "Run!"

"Three, two, one, the Insect Clan Technology wishes you a pleasant journey. Ciao~" The voiceover was sweet but carried a lethal message.

Boom!

A blinding flash preceded the rise of a massive mushroom cloud. The city's protective barrier was deformed and torn by the blast, yet it was constantly being repaired, fueled by a steady stream of spiritual energy.

Qingfeng City, enveloped by the barrier, had become an enclosed space, trapping the explosive energy within. The intensified shockwaves instantly demolished the city walls.

The spectators at the city gate were the first to be hit, followed by the residential buildings behind the walls. The fiery debris rained down, causing innumerable casualties.

Since the city's structures were primarily wooden and most residents couldn't afford fireproof timber, fires broke out across the city. The Water Dragon Squad was in a frantic rush to combat the flames.

Residents dodged the fires, children separated from their families wept in the streets, and Zhao Chengli watched these hellish scenes unfold, kneeling on the ground in shock.

If only he had deactivated the city's defenses earlier or used the barrier to eliminate the external threat instead of showing off, the city wouldn't have descended into this nightmare.

"Devil! I swear we will be eternal enemies!" Zhao Chengli, still a teenager and the city's young lord, had limited life experience. The weight of so many deaths resulting from his conflict with Wang Xiaoming weighed heavily on his conscience.

This was nothing like the stories he'd read, where battles between cultivators were glorified and romanticized. Perhaps those tales were just meant to embellish the image of immortals, glossing over the harsh realities and omitting the grim details entirely.

Zhao Chengli was experiencing the harshness and stark reality of the cultivation world for the first time.

The conflicts between cultivators were nothing short of warfare, with corpses strewn for miles and rivers of blood. This was the true nature of a cultivator's life.

For a cultivator, what weight did the lives of innocent bystanders hold? Were magical treasures and fortuitous opportunities more significant? While populations could regenerate, magical treasures and opportunities could not. For Xiaoming, it was all part of the war. Those who knew him might shed a few tears or even seek vengeance on his behalf.

Seated on a donkey cart, Xiaoming observed the statistics on the monitor with a detached calmness: one thousand one hundred twenty fatalities and twenty-three thousand four hundred burn injuries. In a city of a million, these numbers were trivial. Xiaoming had grown numb to such figures, having been exposed to such events since his arrival in this world. It seemed that this world was shaping him into what it meant to be a 'cultivator'.