Chapter 173: So… Why Don’t You Give It a Try?

Words : 1243 Updated : Sep 19th, 2025

Chapter 173: So… Why Don’t You Give It a Try? "Ancestor… is about to recite poetry!" On the flying sword, Su Qinian gazed at the terrifying sword intent rising in the sky with a solemn expression. Zhou Xuanzi, standing beside him, was momentarily stunned. "Sect Master Su, why do you say that?" "Whenever Ancestor draws his sword, he recites poetry. And whenever he recites poetry, someone dies," Su Qinian murmured. "This time, it’s going to be a big one." "Oh!" Zhou Xuanzi snapped his fan shut, clapping his hands with a grin. "Then if we gag him before he draws his sword, stopping him from reciting, does that mean the sword won’t strike?" Su Qinian cast him a sideways glance. "So… why don’t you give it a try?" "…I wouldn’t dare." Above the sky. As the last sip of spiritual wine slid down his throat, a few drops trickled down Chen Huai’an’s chin, yet before they could hit the ground, they were sliced into mist by invisible sword qi. Clang—! A sharp cry echoed from the sword sheath. Though the sword had yet to be drawn, its momentum had already taken shape! In an instant, the sea of clouds spanning a thousand miles turned into frost and ice, collapsing into a ring-shaped vacuum centered around the figure in black robes. Chen Huai’an’s half-drunken eyes narrowed as he laughed aloud and recited: With a flick of his sleeve, the wine gourd exploded, sending countless drops scattering across the sky, reflecting the image of the frenzied swordsman. He swayed slightly before continuing: The Blackscale Sword was unsheathed, and its sword intent surged into the heavens. All eyes turned toward the black-robed figure, watching as the very space behind him split apart. A colossal Sword Dao manifestation rose into the sky. Standing upon the sea of clouds, towering into the heavens, its sword-like form radiated an aura of sharpness. At times, it sat cross-legged among the clouds, cradling its sword in deep meditation; at others, it leaned drunkenly against the moon, plucking its blade like a zither, singing an endless ballad. Suddenly, the manifestation raised two fingers like a sword and began to inscribe words in the air. The sky trembled. Ink-like strokes erupted across the heavens, the sheer force of the calligraphy piercing the firmament itself, turning the vast sky into a grand scroll where ink waves surged like a raging sea. Chen Huai’an flicked his wrist, scattering glimmers of cold starlight. His sword danced like a dragon, slicing through the clouds and hooking onto the crescent moon. A waterfall of ink suddenly descended from the sky, a solitary streak of black cutting through the layers of mist. Just before it reached the earth, it condensed into an incomparably sharp edge— The ink seeped into the sword’s core, its blade now wrapped in frost. The thousand-foot sword light had been tempered from the very poetry inscribed across the heavens. Laughter rang out. The Buddhist-Demonic manifestation, which had been momentarily frozen, suddenly regained movement. Yet the moment it did, the ink-forged sword came crashing down. "Well met!" The Buddhist-Demonic manifestation’s left eye bloomed with golden lotuses, while its right eye blazed with hellfire. Six white jade hands formed a colossal mudra, one hand channeling the infernos of the underworld, the other the tranquility of the Buddhist Pure Land. The sound of chanting interwove with demonic howls, shaking even the Nascent Soul cultivators watching from afar, leaving them dizzy and disoriented. Su Qinian’s face turned pale at the overwhelming impact of the clash. Though he knew this was a rare opportunity to gain insight into Sword Dao by observing the Ancestor, for the sake of his own life, he swiftly retreated to a safer distance. Boom—! The ink sword collided with the divine seal. The sky cracked, and the earth trembled. The vast deserts spanning thousands of miles were reduced to mere fragments. "Younger one, if this is all you have, you are unworthy of burdening this old nun with your karma." The Buddhist-Demonic manifestation was no longer as solid as before. Cracks spread across its white jade arms and had now reached its chest. However, the entity believed that this was the sword cultivator’s limit—though she was weakened, she still had strength left to fight. Did the sword cultivator have any more to give? Chen Huai’an lifted his sword and recited once more. The sword’s movement traced out the words in ink, coiling into a dragon of poetry. Behind him, the Sword Dao manifestation suddenly raised its wrist. A brush the weight of a mountain slashed through the clouds. The words glowed with sword light. The ink of surged like waves. As the final stroke was completed, the heavens collapsed inward. The inky mark spanning across the sky condensed into yet another sword. The sword fell. A silent explosion drained all color from the world. The Buddhist-Demonic manifestation stared blankly at the celestial figure above the clouds, as if entranced. Beneath the fading crescent moon, Chen Huai’an sheathed his sword and shook his head with a sigh. As his words fell, a thin sword mark split the manifestation’s brow. A gust of wind blew past, and the divine form shattered, dissolving into countless embers of karmic fire. Thousands of miles away, deep within the collapsed ruins of an ancient temple— A gray-robed old nun trembled violently in meditation. Her face paled as she coughed up a mouthful of blood. Ignoring the blood staining her lips, she immediately sat cross-legged to regulate her breathing. Only after a long while did she recover. Even though she had descended via an incarnation that had fused with Ji Dong’s manifestation, it was still a portion of her true essence. Yet with only two strikes, that sword cultivator had nearly shredded her very being. The residual sword intent, carried along by her scattered power, had even reversed back into her soul like a parasite burrowing into bone. If not for her being at the third level of the Void Piercing Realm, she would have been utterly annihilated. Any cultivator at the Fusion Realm in her place would have perished the moment the backlash struck. Sёarch* The NôᴠelFirё.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality. The old nun's face darkened, her gaze flickering with uncertainty. If he were an ancient figure, he should have been aware of the crisis looming over the Cangyun Realm. But his reaction just now showed he knew nothing. Moreover, the legendary Sword Pavilion Ancestor named Chen had long since left this world, and their Sword Daos were completely different. There was no way such a monstrous sword cultivator could have emerged out of nowhere during her closed-door cultivation. The old nun murmured to herself, a chilling glint flashing in her eyes. "Master, save me! I don’t want to die!" Ji Dong’s remnant soul clung to her desperately, his ethereal form riddled with countless sword wounds. He was fading fast. "Save you?" The old nun sneered and grabbed his soul. "You are but a lowly demonic cultivator. I was never shielding you from fate. Your destiny was sealed the moment you left the Ten Thousand Mountains." "You… You tricked me—!" Ji Dong howled in fury. "You wretched hag! May you die a miserable death!" The old nun merely chuckled coldly. Her fingers closed around Ji Dong’s soul, crushing it into nothingness. Only her whisper lingered in the temple’s ruins—

Chapter 173: So… Why Don’t You Give It a Try?

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