Chapter 123 The Eleventh Sword

Vishnu, who had almost single-handedly unified all the divinity of India, froze.

He had originally planned to take advantage of the excellent situation of breaking his opponent's mental state and strike decisively to defeat the enemy in one fell swoop. However, his instinct as a god in this land made him stop subconsciously, because an indescribable aura was flowing.

It was as if the wind swept eight thousand miles, scraping his face, cutting every inch.

Vishnu looked at the swordsman with lowered eyes.

"This is... sword qi?!"

'Why isn't a stable state of mind the strongest?' Kuafu once asked.

'Stability represents rationality, and rationality represents restraint. A rational person can avoid the appearance of valleys, but also loses the highest peak.'

'The highest peak?'

'Yes, Guan Yunchang who returned to Liu Bei from Cao Cao's camp, Xiang Yu who fought with his back to the river, the Xiaoyao Ford where eight hundred riders broke through one hundred thousand, Zhao Zilong who charged in and out seven times, Zhang Yide who roared at Dangyang Bridge. Do you think that their strength at that moment was really the same as their usual state?'

There was another sentence that was not spoken.

'Easier said than done.'

This is why Bai Ze is just Bai Ze.

Like countless people in modern times, everyone knows that the simplest exercise is good for the body, but how many can do it? They clearly know the road ahead, but it is ultimately just a flower in the mirror and the moon in the water. The peak realm is inherently lonely. Once you climb up, you cannot guarantee that you will always stand on it.

Knowing and doing are two completely different realms, as different as clouds and mud.

At this moment, even though his hands no longer held a sword, Vishnu felt the stinging sensation between his eyebrows growing stronger and stronger. He had to draw his sword because that sharpness was rising at a terrifying speed, like rolling thunder.

If he didn't draw his sword now, after a while, he probably wouldn't even be able to deliver the weapon.

The indestructible blade that had once slain the ten-headed Rakshasa was slashed out domineeringly.

The youxia of the Great Tang Dynasty lowered his eyes and swept his left hand horizontally with his fingers together.

A resounding explosion.

The mythical weapon could not break through the mere invisible sword qi.

The divine sword that had once slain Rakshasas was lifted by the sword qi.

Wei Yuan stepped forward, his five fingers slightly spread, accompanied by a clear and indescribable whistling sound. In a palace that had long been buried in history, in the ruins of the 'Sun God holding the precepts' held by the Deva, the clear whistling sound became more magnificent, like a great bell.

It resounded eleven times in a row.

The seal was broken.

A simple Tang sword burst out.

As the only weapon cherished by King Harsha when he was buried, this sword rose sharply.

There were thirty-three oil lamps around, the lights like candles, representing the thirty-three heavens.

Originally trembling slightly with the breathing, it suddenly solidified at this moment.

Every ray of candlelight rose like a sword.

Then, like a rainbow, they converged into that sword light, drew an arc in the sky, directly broke through layers of blockades and formations, pierced through the air, left a dazzling streamer in the sky, and fell straight into the palm of the youxia.

Leaving Harsha and retrieving this Chang'an is the only way to have a beginning and an end.

He took advantage of the situation and thrust out the first sword.

India.

Like a child learning to sword, crooked and awkward, Vishnu raised his hand and slashed out with his divine weapon. The two swords clashed at the same time, head-on. The Tang sword Chang'an trembled and was forced back by the sword blessed by the Heavenly Dao. Vishnu's expression remained unchanged, but he took half a step back.

Just half a step.

Then, just as he was about to adjust his posture, he noticed that the sharpness in front of him had suddenly risen.

It actually invaded again.

Vishnu's expression was slightly condensed, and he had to retreat again, hoping to remove this sharpness.

According to common sense, a person's qi flow, exertion, and movements must be integrated with the qi. The simplest is the exhalation and vocalization in various martial arts schools.

Like the "heng ha" sounds of Bajiquan, they are used to adjust the qi and burst out with force.

After making a move, ordinary people must also recover their qi in order to adjust their physical strength. However, after this youxia thrust out a sword, his qi did not adjust at all. Instead, he stepped forward and thrust out the second sword, exactly the same. This sword was thrust out like a battlefield slaughter, tragic and magnificent, directly surpassing the momentum of the first sword.

The youxia whispered in his heart.

"Chang'an."

The second sword was blocked.

Vishnu held the conch in both hands, forcibly resisting this sword.

His right foot stepped hard on the ground.

He planned to stop the retreat again.

But the youxia in front of him's qi surged again, and he suddenly took the third step.

The sleeves vibrated in the air, almost like wind and thunder.

The first sword was ordinary, the second sword was domineering and decisive, but the third sword was already a cavity of sword qi and sword intent like the Yangtze River, surging and flowing endlessly to the sea. It drew out a brilliant and extremely cold sword qi river. Vishnu gritted his teeth and had to retreat again and again.

Just this retreat alone made his own momentum, like a river flowing straight down, unstoppable.

Cracks appeared in the sleeves made of divine weapon material amidst a cracking sound.

Wei Yuan stepped forward with his right foot, ignoring the pressure on himself from the sword strike. This time, his speed increased again, rushing forward like lightning, pulling out large swaths of sonic boom clouds in the air. The fourth time, his qi still did not return, still as straight as the bamboo of Nanshan.

His sleeves bulged, clinging to white condensed clouds, and the long sword thrust out horizontally, with wind and thunder already brewing on the sword's edge.

At the moment of striking the sword, the qi around his body burst out.

The fourth sword.

It was already a world of sword qi like frost.

When fighting, returning the qi will inevitably lead to a decrease in one's own momentum. However, Wei Yuan seemed to have forgotten that he needed to recover his qi at this moment. Every time he forcibly struck out with his sword, his momentum was naturally accumulated, and the pressure on himself was constantly increasing, but he completely ignored it at this moment.

With such rapid sword strikes and violent momentum, Vishnu had unknowingly retreated a very long distance. In front of him was a vast expanse of silver sword light. With the fifth sword, Wei Yuan still stepped forward, his speed climbing again, beyond the reach of the naked eye. Only the sword qi was cold and sharp, like the surging moonlight.

He simultaneously slashed out the fifth sword.

Ignoring his injuries.

Ignoring the pressure on himself.

Ignoring the threat of the opponent's attack.

If they came to kill, he would respond with kill for kill, exchanging injuries for injuries. It was the most domineering and tragic killing method. Vishnu knew that he couldn't continue like this. The divine wheel in his palm spun out, like wind and thunder, directly slashing towards the youxia's neck. If it hit, his head would definitely be cut off.

Wei Yuan's sword in his palm did not retreat or dodge, directly stabbing towards Vishnu's eyebrows and soul.

The momentum suddenly became tragic.

As if he wanted to exchange death for death, even though he was wearing immortal and indestructible golden armor, the fear in Vishnu's heart became more and more intense. He had to summon back the divine Dharma wheel and block it in front of him. The sword in the youxia's palm fell, as if the celestial wheel naturally stood in his way.

Cracks appeared on that divine weapon.

The force of the backlash was so powerful that cracking sounds rang out on the so-called three thousand layers of golden armor.

A trace of blood appeared at the corner of Wei Yuan's mouth.

His right foot lifted and paused.

Then, he stomped down hard.

Not retreating!

Not retreating a single step!

Layers of ripples appeared in the sky, and the clouds sank sharply.

Like a bamboo of Nanshan piercing straight through.

The eleven bowls of wine were now rising like flames in the chest of the youxia of the Great Tang Dynasty. The backlash and qi of each sword strike were pressing down on his internal organs, but instead, this ball of fire became more and more violent. When he struck out with the seventh sword, it was for eternity.

Vishnu's Vajra pestle was directly cut open.

The seemingly unremarkable Tang sword Chang'an changed for the first time, sweeping horizontally. Both arms were swept away. As the armor of an ancient hero, its original owner did not have the eight-armed form. Golden blood rose sharply, and a tragic aura filled the air.

Wei Yuan did not stop, and thrust out the eighth sword.

The golden blood solidified in the air, and then was all swept up by the sword momentum, turning into sword qi.

Like a hundred rivers returning to the sea.

The eighth sword was called Doujian (combat sword).

Another arm was broken!

The ninth sword, going and coming horizontally and vertically!

The war bow that belonged to Shiva in the myths had not yet had time to shoot out the legendary golden arrow, but was forcibly smashed by the sword qi and sword momentum. Vishnu intercepted it with both hands. This sword directly slashed down, the sword's edge penetrating deep into the hand bones.

And Wei Yuan himself was also covered in blood.

One sword was tyrannical.

Directly splitting both arms along the hand bones.

With the tenth sword, Wei Yuan once again shattered the sword in Vishnu's hand.

The roaring sound, the sound of swords, were all like thunder. Wei Yuan lifted a breath in his chest and did not release it. He struck out ten swords in a row, non-stop. Each sword was far superior to the sword intent of the previous sword. Almost like stepping on a ladder, he forcibly pushed his swordsmanship to a state stronger than ever before. Every sword he struck out today was a swan song.

It would not have existed before today.

Wei Yuan after today would not be able to use it again.

Because each of these swords was an unrepeatable peak.

Those ten consecutive swords were all violent and unmatched, as if he truly had a sword in his hand, advancing without retreat. Wei Yuan swallowed the breath and blood, and the last sword still thrust forward. In an instant, there seemed to be a golden streamer rippling in his eyes. Above the Kunlun Mountains in Shenzhou, there seemed to be a faint golden light flowing, but it quickly disappeared.

Kunlun Mountain's characteristic: coexistence of all realms.

However, this was not something that the Kunlun Mountain in the human world could do, but a height that only the true master of Kunlun was qualified to reach. At this moment, the sword in the youxia's palm relied on the pinnacle of human swordsmanship, forcibly rising from swordsmanship to reason, evolving into the Dao, following that almost negligible trace of Kunlun characteristics.

One sword was slashed out.

My sword is Kunlun, existing in different spaces at the same time.

Locking down the space in front of him, every strand of space seemed to be folded, turning into the size of a sword mark.

This sword slashed through every part of the space 'at the same time.'

As if the space in front of him was folded into a sword mark, and then, slashed straight through.

This sword must hit.

This sword was not a peak, or a legend.

This sword was a myth.

An unprecedented sound of swords roared, a sword light that could not be captured by the naked eye or anything else, as if it had already been slashed out in an instant, had already hit. The so-called immortal and indestructible golden armor was instantly shattered, and a sword directly pierced into Vishnu's throat.

Tian Zhu Chang'an, returned to its hometown.

Ten thousand miles of sword.

Buddhist Sangharama, combat sword of eternity.

Going and coming horizontally and vertically, holding the sword north, south, east, and west.

Asking who is the hero's enemy,

Asking who is the hero's enemy!

Vishnu grabbed the sword tightly with both hands, and the youxia of the Great Tang Dynasty directly dragged this god forward, dragging him for dozens of miles on the ground, heavily inserted into a mountain, panting like an ox, and then grinned, holding the sword in his right hand, turning the vertically inserted sword, making the blade parallel to the ground, and then violently exerted force, the blade swept directly like a long river, tearing out a large cloud of blood.

Vishnu was directly beheaded.

He pressed the head of this god with his left hand, pressing it back hard.

Looking at the fear in those eyes.

"Can't you still live?"

The youxia, whose breath was exhausted, panted and said ferociously, "Let me see you come back to life!"

……………………

Under the eleven swords, the strongest swordsmanship in the human world, and the Kunlun principle expounded by swordsmanship.

Vishnu's dead end was already lost when he took half a step back.

Wu Zhiqi was filled with excitement, and then a little more instinctive emotion.

When facing that sword, he could only fight head-on.

As long as he took half a step back, he would only continue to move towards death.

And after Wei Yuan's breath dissipated, he was exhausted all over, only feeling endless stinging pains. His clothes were instantly soaked with cold sweat. He kicked Vishnu over with one foot, gritted his teeth and said, "Stand up!"

"Isn't there a legend of immortality?!"

"Since you are the divinity of this land, you shouldn't die just like that, right?"

"I just killed 'Vishnu', there are deeper levels, right?"

"You…!"

The body of the Trimurti collapsed, Vishnu, or rather, what could no longer be called Vishnu, suddenly swelled rapidly. The concept of mythology naturally emerged, with scorching and domineering high temperature - the Vedic sun god, this was Vishnu's true form.

He was originally one of the sun gods of the Vedic era.

He constantly devoured the divinity and legends of others, and appeared as the Ten Avatars before becoming one of the Trimurti.

And at this moment, as one of the Trimurti, he was killed by a sword.

The god who was praised and worshipped, named 'Vishnu', had died.

He was directly beaten back to his original form.

"Mortal, I want you to die!!!"

Thousands of years of accumulation were directly wiped out by Kunlun's sword. The 'Vishnu' who had really died once was terrified and angry, or rather, his killing intent was even stronger. He stared at the youxia, who was obviously exhausted, and rose sharply, opening the concept of mythology.

The next moment.

The whole of India was completely plunged into darkness.

Human recognition of the sun is because sunlight falls into their eyes.

And at this moment, all the sunlight was gathered and distorted, condensed on this sun god.

At this moment, he was the Great Sun.

High temperature, scorching heat, brightness!

And on the vast earth, there was darkness, and then the Great Sun rose, and fell sharply, like a huge burning flame, bursting out with a temperature of hundreds of millions of degrees at all times, falling towards the human world at an extremely fast speed, as if to burn the youxia who killed Vishnu directly to ashes. Wei Yuan supported himself with his sword, looked at the Great Sun, and stood up staggeringly: "That's great..."

He said: "I can kill you twice!"

"Mortal, impudent!!!"

"I will burn your soul to ashes!"

In the god's anger, endless high temperature and unwatchable brilliance crashed down.

All beings could not look directly, but a new aura appeared.

Accompanied by a desolate long roar, a barbaric spirit, a loneliness and determination of one person felling gods, overwhelmingly covered out, directly wrapping the youxia of the Great Tang Dynasty who had exhausted his strength after reaching the peak, and the roar that roared out from the youxia's mouth was the simplest ancient text -

"Kuafu!!!"

Then,

The ancient hero responded to this.

Taking the gods high above into his hands with the body of a mortal, chasing and killing the sun god Xihe, was the pride of the human race, the initial resistance. The desolate ancient legend, at this point, reappeared on the earth.

Myth concept - sun chasing.

Activated!