C2 Five Thousand Years Under the Immortal Sword Mountain

"Your journey ends here!"

Ling Dao's trail of carnage had not gone unnoticed by the upper echelons of the Purple Vine Holy Land. Zi Wuji, the esteemed Grand Elder who resided in the Nine Layered Heavens, was a figure of unparalleled strength. Despite Ling Dao's prodigious talent in swordsmanship, his youth was still a limiting factor.

Given enough time, Ling Dao might have posed a real challenge to Zi Wuji. But as things stood, Zi Wuji scarcely acknowledged his presence. Ling Dao's prior actions had incensed the Purple Vine Holy Land's leadership, prompting Zi Wuji to intervene personally.

"You're certainly formidable, but by storming the Purple Vine Holy Land, I never intended to leave with my life!"

Zi Wuji's level of cultivation far surpassed Ling Dao's, a fact both of them were acutely aware of. Yet, Ling Dao was undaunted, his battle spirit soaring. His hair whipped about in a frenzy, and his sword sang with anticipation.

"Zheng zheng!"

With a flourish of his longsword, a deluge of sword qi blanketed the vicinity. In an instant, Ling Dao unleashed hundreds of strikes, the intense glow of his sword casting a silvery moonlight across the battlefield.

His gaze was profound, his focus absolute. In this transcendent state, nothing existed but the sword in his grasp. Each thrust was an exquisite masterpiece, deceptively simple yet infinitely complex—a paradox in motion.

"This young one possesses extraordinary swordsmanship talent!"

As the Grand Elder of the Purple Vine Holy Land, Zi Wuji had encountered many a genius, but such innate skill with the blade was exceedingly rare. It was a pity, then, that Ling Dao stood as his adversary, for such talent was a threat rather than a boon.

"Your sword is too feeble to wound this elder!"

Zi Wuji's mane of purple hair cascaded as he leisurely lifted his right hand, his index and middle finger snapping shut on Ling Dao's longsword. Despite the blistering speed of Ling Dao's assault, the disparity in their realms rendered it ineffective against Zi Wuji.

With just his index and middle finger, Zi Wuji firmly clamped down on the longsword in Ling Dao's grip. No matter how frantically Ling Dao swung, he couldn't shake off Zi Wuji's vice-like grip. The disparity in their levels of power was simply too vast; they were not even in the same league.

"Sword, break!" Zi Wuji uttered icily. In the next moment, Ling Dao's longsword emitted a mournful cry as it snapped into two. Disregarding the broken tip, Zi Wuji casually tossed it aside, leaving Ling Dao with nothing but a hilt.

"Your sword is already broken. What will you fight me with now?"

Against such overwhelming strength, Ling Dao's natural aptitude for swordsmanship was rendered meaningless. It wouldn't be a challenge for Zi Wuji to take Ling Dao's life. But before he did, there were more pressing matters to attend to.

"I still have the broken sword, and it's enough to strike with!"

"The Soaring Cloud Triple Technique!"

Despite wielding only a broken blade, Ling Dao executed the Ling Family's sword techniques with precision. Lacking a tip, the blade was no less deadly. His mastery of the Soaring Cloud Triple Technique was evident; with each move, his presence transformed.

The sword may have been broken, but Ling Dao's fighting spirit surged, growing even stronger. A chilling intent to kill flickered in Zi Wuji's eyes. A Sword Genius of such caliber had to be eliminated, or he would surely spell catastrophe for the Purple Vine Holy Land.

"Such trivial tricks, and you dare to flaunt them?"

This time, Zi Wuji extended his right hand and seized Ling Dao's broken sword. No sword move, no matter how clever, could touch him. Holding the longsword firmly, he let out a chuckle.

"What will you do if your sword turns to dust?"

"Crack! Crack!"

The broken sword disintegrated into fragments, the hilt included. Ling Dao was left empty-handed. Zi Wuji watched him with a leisurely gaze, curious to see how Ling Dao would respond.

"Alas, I haven't mastered the art of wielding an invisible sword in my heart. It seems I have no choice but to give it my all!"

Even without his sword, Ling Dao refused to yield; his fists were still at his disposal. Without uttering a word, he swung his fists at Zi Wuji. If his swordsmanship couldn't match Zi Wuji, his bare hands stood even less of a chance.

The very next moment, Zi Wuji seized Ling Dao's wrists. The sword had failed to leave a mark on him, so Ling Dao's fists were futile. Ling Dao smirked ruefully, accepting that his end was near. Yet, having slain numerous warriors from the Purple Vine Holy Land, he felt his demise was not in vain.

"Surrender the Desolate Immortal Slaying Force, and I shall spare you. Refuse, and I'll make you beg for death!"

The Purple Vine Holy Land had pursued Ling Dao relentlessly, coveting the Desolate Immortal Slaying Force he possessed. But only Ling Dao knew the truth: the technique was unattainable. Though the words "Desolate Immortal Slaying Force" were etched in his mind, the rest of the method remained an enigma.

"Go ahead and kill me; enough with the idle threats. You're not getting the technique!"

Ling Dao was defiant to the core. He had come to the Purple Vine Holy Land fully prepared to die, knowing full well that with his current prowess, conquering the entire domain was an impossible feat.

"Dispense with the pleasantries. I'll handle this."

As Zi Wuji readied to strike, a commanding voice echoed in his head. He nodded, shot Ling Dao a venomous look, and departed. Ling Dao, puzzled, was soon greeted by a thunderous proclamation.

"Ling Dao, your transgressions are unforgivable; death alone cannot absolve you. Today, you shall be confined beneath Immortal Sword Mountain for five millennia!"

In an instant, Ling Dao's surroundings shifted, and he found himself on a desolate peak. Darkness fell swiftly, and as he looked up, a colossal divine sword descended upon him.

The divine sword spanned from heaven to earth, stretching tens of thousands of meters before it transformed into a towering mountain peak. Ling Dao was ensnared by an invisible force, rendering him immobile. In no time at all, the Immortal Sword Mountain descended, trapping him mercilessly beneath its mass.

"The Immortal Sword Mountain will unleash a torrent of sword qi, eroding your flesh. Pinned under its weight, you'll endure agony so severe that death will seem a mercy. Unless you relinquish the Desolate Immortal Slaying Force, you shall remain beneath the Immortal Sword Mountain indefinitely!"

Ling Dao felt the sword qi piercing into his flesh. As it intensified, beads of cold sweat emerged on his forehead. His body seemed to be endlessly cleaved, the excruciating pain knitting his brows tightly together.

"Hand over the Desolate Immortal Slaying Force? That's a fantasy! Not in five thousand years, not even in fifty thousand, will I yield!"