Chapter 120: The Three-Foot Green Blade

The Demon Moon Mirror was snatched away by a giant hand formed from a mass of green clouds!

Quanyue remained in the void. As the black arrow, carrying boundless murderous intent, whistled past and pierced into the lunar disk, a stream of dark, flowing radiance suddenly emerged around her body. She was completely unharmed, allowing her to clearly witness the Qingyan Sword being trapped, only to then unleash such vast killing intent that it instantly shredded the black banner that had sent a chill down her spine.

Watching this, she felt an immense sense of satisfaction. She couldn't help but think that Senior Nanluo was indeed a mighty figure of the human race, far surpassing even the Great Magi of the Wu tribe. However, her joy lasted less than a few seconds before that magnificent demon moon was struck down and vanished into a mass of green clouds.

When the green clouds dispersed and Quanyue realized the Demon Moon Mirror was gone, her heart sank. She found the reality hard to accept. The great and lesser demons of Luoling Mountain naturally witnessed this as well, exclaiming in shock: "The Great King's Demon Moon Mirror has been stolen!"

"Ah... stolen..." "That... that... that... cloud..."

All of this occurred in the blink of an eye. The Qingyan Sword erupted with strands of sword qi, crisscrossing in such a way that every thread seemed capable of slicing the void itself.

The black banner was shredded to pieces in an instant, yet it did not dissipate. Wrapped in black wind, it appeared ready to reform into a banner, but the willow-catkin-like sword qi swirled around it again, slicing the black wind into fragments. Time and again, the black banner attempted to coalesce, only to be ruthlessly torn apart by the Qingyan Sword.

"Nanluo, do not go too far!" Da Feng’s voice, filled with shock and rage, emanated from the black wind. His voice was as hoarse as ever, but it carried a note of desperation, lacking its usual sinister, eerie tone.

The Qingyan Sword remained silent, yet its murderous intent did not diminish in the slightest, once again shredding the black banner just as it began to re-form. It seemed intent on grinding the banner until it vanished into nothingness, never to be restored.

This black banner, known as the "God-Binding Soul-Extinguishing Banner," was crafted by Da Feng himself, using the spines of exotic beasts from lands of extreme yin and evil, woven with the silk of eighty-one types of highly venomous insects, and tempered for over a century using secret Wu tribe arts.

The black wind was a divine ability he had mastered, a combat technique learned in the Ancestral Magi Hall known as the "Earth-Yin Xun Wind." At its peak, a single wisp of this wind could turn a great mountain into a wasteland. It could harm people invisibly, attacking both the physical body and the primordial spirit; once tainted by the poison within the wind, there was no path but death, with few capable of providing a cure.

Because the God-Binding Soul-Extinguishing Banner was fused with his own essence and blood through secret Wu tribe methods, it could disperse and gather at will. However, this did not mean it could be shredded repeatedly by the Qingyan Sword without consequence.

The banner was fused with his soul; every time it was shredded, it was equivalent to wounding his soul. Although his cultivation was profound and his spirit powerful, the sword qi, which seemed as delicate as catkins and light as air, carried a terrifying, sharp intent that obliterated everything it touched, causing immense damage to his soul.

Each time it was torn apart, Da Feng felt his soul being slashed. The sword qi seemed to track the invisible connection, directly striking at Da Feng, who had transformed into the black wind. Consequently, he had to expend vast amounts of magical power to dissolve those strands of sword qi.

"If this continues, won't I be killed here?" Da Feng wondered inwardly. His ability allowed him to render his physical form intangible, dodging almost any attack, leaving him nearly immune to blades and spells. Furthermore, his ability to fly without trace and shift instantaneously made him elusive and difficult to contain.

He was known as the most cunning and elusive member of the Wu tribe. Yet now, he felt helpless; no matter how he shifted his abilities or how he hid and flew, he could not escape the cage of the sword net.

Although no blade had struck his true form, his primordial spirit was injured. Furthermore, the God-Binding Soul-Extinguishing Banner, fused with his soul, began to show signs of unraveling. Its use had become sluggish, no longer as intuitive or responsive as before.

The physical body of a Magus is many times stronger than that of any other race, capable of resisting magical treasures at its peak. Yet Da Feng felt that if he were truly struck, he would perish instantly.

All of this happened in a flash. Everyone saw the Qingyan Sword erupt with murderous light from within the black banner, shredding it to pieces and weaving a sword net that left no room for escape.

Suddenly, the void darkened, as if a cloud had covered the space.

The demons of Luoling Mountain looked up in panic to see a figure appearing in the sky. He wore leather armor, and his cape looked like a bloody cloud from below, covering the entire sky above Luoling Mountain. The moment they looked up, the sky was completely shrouded.

If viewed from high above, it was like a black curtain covering Luoling Mountain, isolating it from the rest of the world.

The one who had enveloped Luoling Mountain was Peng Meng. He had channeled all his magical abilities into this cape, named "Heaven-Shrouding and Sun-Blocking." Anyone trapped within would be suppressed within his world, while he himself would gain infinite power.

After the cape covered the mountain, it suddenly swelled like a bubble. A wild roar echoed from within: "Nanluo, today is the day of your death!"

Peng Meng's voice boomed like thunder, echoing through the void. Before it could fade, a scream rang out. The cape enveloping the mountain tore apart, and a beam of sword light soared into the sky, ripping a massive hole in the black fabric. It then flickered, unleashing brilliant light that instantly shredded the cape into tattered rags fluttering in the air.

Luoling Mountain reappeared beneath the heavens. In the void, Peng Meng was seen fleeing toward the highest reaches of the sky, one of his arms severed, casting a mist of blood down onto the mountain. The shredded scraps of the cape, still shimmering with divine light, gathered toward his half-destroyed cloak.

A brilliant sword light shot into the sky. It was as thin as a silver thread, yet extraordinarily clear under the sunlight, blinding to behold. It pursued the fleeing Peng Meng, and in a heartbeat, it caught up, appearing about to entangle him... when a black arrow arrived, striking the silver thread with perfect precision.

"Boom!"

The silver light and black radiance collided, emitting a deafening roar. The energy of heaven and earth churned, and the clouds high above the nine heavens were instantly dispersed.

The black radiance revealed its form: a black arrow gleaming with an eerie dark light. Inscribed upon it were countless underworld characters, as if it had come from the Nine Netherworlds, specifically to claim souls.

The silver light was the Qingyan Sword, its blade as clear as water, gleaming with a pale, cold light under the sun. It held no hint of murderous intent, silent and desolate.

As they revealed their original forms, they seemed to be stabilizing from the impact. But in an instant, both moved. The black arrow flickered, vanishing into the void like a stone dropped into water.

The Qingyan Sword trembled, and a heaven-shaking murderous intent erupted. It was completely different from the silence of a moment ago; when still, it was like silence, but when moving, it was like a tidal wave.

As the murderous sword light soared, Nanluo’s voice, seemingly devoid of emotional fluctuation, emanated from Luoling Mountain.

"Since you all think so highly of me, Nanluo, come at me together. I shall use this three-foot blade to accept your divine arts."

Before his voice had even faded, the Qingyan Sword transformed into a stream of light, darting toward the north of Luoling Mountain.

That was precisely where Hou Yi and Xing Tian were located. The sword, transformed into a stream of light, pierced through the void, drawing the energy of heaven and earth into a frenzied surge.

This strike was no ordinary attack; it was the practical application of what Nanluo had realized and perceived over these past days. The sword turned into a stream of light with such speed that it did not lag behind the arrows shot by Hou Yi from his bent bow.

Before Nanluo’s words had settled, the stream of light appeared above the peak where Hou Yi and Xing Tian stood. Because of its incredible speed, the sword trailed a long light and descended upon them without hesitation.

"Good for you, Nanluo! Let me, Xing Tian, meet you!" Xing Tian roared, rushing forward. His giant axe transformed into a black light, shielding him as he swiped at the incoming Qingyan Sword.

*Clang!*

A crisp sound of metal clashing rang out—not from the sword striking the axe, but from colliding with a black arrow in Hou Yi’s hand.

Xing Tian was startled and then furious; he had not expected the Qingyan Sword to be so fast that he had missed it entirely.

Turning, he saw Hou Yi holding a black arrow, dodging and weaving beneath the sword that had become a stream of light. The speed of the sword was so great that it created a dreamlike array of colors in the void, with faint five-colored mists appearing wherever the light passed.

In Xing Tian’s eyes, Hou Yi was on the defensive, trapped by the dreamlike sword and unable to counterattack.

However, Xing Tian knew that while Hou Yi’s close-combat ability was not as strong as his archery, his perception of the energy of heaven and earth was extremely acute. His eyes were the sharpest beneath the Ancestral Magi, capable of catching the most minute details. Nothing could escape his sight.

Thus, Xing Tian was not worried that Hou Yi couldn't defend himself; even if he couldn't, he wouldn't be in mortal danger for a while.

He turned to stride toward Luoling Mountain. But the moment he lifted his foot, his body seemed to grow in the wind. The space appeared to tear open, and he was about to step into it when the Qingyan Sword, which had been engulfing Hou Yi, flickered and appeared behind Xing Tian, slicing down silently.

Its target was the back of his neck. The strike was eerie, devoid of any energy fluctuation. It was like a gentle spring rain or a white thread drifting in the wind, falling toward his neck.

It looked incredibly slow and powerless, yet Xing Tian—who had mastered the combat techniques of the Wu tribe and could cross thousands of mountains in a single stride—remained in the fleeting instant of lifting his foot as the thread descended.

Suddenly, Xing Tian, who had been about to tear through the void, stopped. His giant axe appeared at his neck, and the sound of weapons clashing rang out from the void.

This was only possible due to Xing Tian’s combat instinct, far superior to that of ordinary people, allowing him to sense the fatal danger and block it just in time. Xing Tian’s strength lay in his innate combat consciousness and wild killing intent; most people would lose their nerve just by facing his presence. His talent was among the highest in the Wu tribe, and no one wished to face his "Heaven-Opening Axe Technique."

But this time, Xing Tian had been shocked twice: first by failing to intercept the sword, and second by nearly being decapitated. Some would lose heart upon being shocked, and once their spirit faltered, their abilities would diminish.

But Xing Tian only grew more excited; the stronger his opponent, the greater the power he unleashed.

He let out a loud roar, preparing to rush toward Luoling Mountain to find Nanluo’s true form. Yet, the Qingyan Sword descended upon him once more. This time, it was not silent; it stirred the energy of the world, forming a massive, earth-yellow giant sword that crashed down upon Xing Tian.

Xing Tian’s figure was vast, his "Law of Heaven and Earth" active; he feared nothing as much as a direct collision. His black giant axe, carrying the wild power of the opening of the heavens, slashed toward the giant sword.

*Boom!*

The endless light shrouding the earth-yellow giant sword dissipated, revealing the three-foot body of the Qingyan Sword.

The wind and clouds in the sky surged. Xing Tian retreated several heavy steps, the ground beneath him cracking with every movement. His heart shook—the power of that strike was terrifying. The sword seemed to hold the weight of billions of tons, as if an entire mountain had been condensed into a single blow.

This strike was Nanluo’s combination of the Five Elements Great Dao and his sword path, containing the profound weight of the Earth element. The Great Dao is infinite; as long as it is applied correctly, any path can unleash extraordinary power.

Xing Tian retreated until he reached Hou Yi’s side, divine light erupting from his eyes. He looked up and roared; he was truly enraged by Nanluo. He had never been suppressed in battle before.

Before he could strike, however, the Qingyan Sword moved again. With a slight pause and a gentle flick, it unleashed thousands of rays of light, instantly shrouding both Hou Yi and Xing Tian.

One sword-stroke bloomed into thousands of rays, with five-colored mists drifting and condensing throughout the void. From a distance, one could only see a giant supporting the heavens roaring in the mist, his black axe swinging wildly. Every strike of the axe seemed capable of splitting a mountain, yet no matter how frantically he swung, he could not escape the thickening five-colored clouds.

Within the mist, a white figure flickered incessantly, unable to be caught.

Around them, strands of white light coiled, appearing omnipresent. They moved without trace and flickered without name, as if within that mist, the sword could ignore distance and time to appear anywhere.

"Hou Yi and Xing Tian are actually trapped," the Golden Light Ancestor said, stroking the gold-sheathed long sword in his hand, staring in shock at the area shrouded by the five-colored mist.

The Eagle King standing beside him seemed not to hear, or perhaps he didn't care. His eyes narrowed repeatedly, his lips pressed tight. His black robe fluttered without wind, as if reflecting his fluctuating mood.

He had come to avenge his son, but he had yet to make a move. With every passing moment, the fire in his heart seemed to dissipate.

Seeing the Great Magi Xing Tian and Hou Yi trapped by a single sword-stroke made his heart churn like a stormy sea. He knew his son, Eagle Three, had been killed by Hou Yi’s arrow, but he felt it all started because of Nanluo. If not for Nanluo, why would his son have been shot?

He hated Hou Yi, but he hated Nanluo even more.

He currently held another identity: a Demon King later conferred by the Heavenly Court. The mountain where he had lived for countless days was now famous in the Heavenly Court. Although he felt the Heavenly Court’s gesture was redundant, he accepted it, officially becoming one of theirs.

However, he had carefully observed that the former Heavenly Court Star Lord, Nanluo, had vanished. There was no trace of him left, as if he had never existed in the world.

He searched everywhere but found nothing. Until one day, the Golden Light Ancestor sent word that Nanluo was here, so he came, alone, with the sole intent of killing Nanluo.

Yet a question arose: how could Nanluo be here? Had the Heavenly Emperor sent him? And if so, for what purpose? If it were for cultivation, there was no place better than Mount Buzhou or the Heavenly Court.

How could the Heavenly Emperor allow him to hide here? After thinking for days, the Eagle King concluded that Nanluo must be here on the Emperor's orders. As for the purpose, he could not fathom it.

Thinking all this did not mean he didn't want to kill Nanluo; he just wanted to wait for someone else to act first and see if the Heavenly Emperor intervened. If the Emperor had sent Nanluo, surely he would intervene when the Wu tribe destroyed the mountain to kill him.

But until now, he had seen no one from the Heavenly Court, and the two Great Magi of the Wu tribe were trapped by Nanluo’s sword.

He could hardly believe his eyes. Twenty years ago, Nanluo had gained fame by escaping the combined pursuit of Xing Tian and Hou Yi. Now, he had the power to trap them both simultaneously.

What had caused his cultivation to advance so much? The Eagle King squinted at Luoling Mountain, trying to see through it.

He recalled that since the siege began, Nanluo had never appeared, and the Green Essence Spirit had said his vital energy was faint, like a dying light. Was there a secret in the Luoling Cave? A secret that allowed one to hide here?

And could this secret elevate a person’s power to a level beyond the Dao Realm? At this thought, the Eagle King’s heart suddenly burned with desire.

He flicked his black robe and, without a word to the Golden Light Ancestor, transformed into a bolt of black lightning, flying toward the Luoling Cave within the mountain.