My Wife Is The Leader Of A Demonic Cult

Chapter 393: Chapter 293: Ghost Sword’s Death Throws the World into Chaos Chapter 393: Chapter 293: Ghost Sword’s Death Throws the World into Chaos An Jing became surrounded by a myriad of nebulous purple qi, which directly enveloped his figure.

The tumultuous aura around the ghastly face didn’t swallow him, and then the ghostly face began to compress from the top down, its momentum unweakened in the slightest.

“Crack! Crack!”

An Jing stood on the ground, his arms bending as if unable to bear the burden due to the terrifying force attacking him, and suddenly the ground beneath him fractured, his legs sinking deeply into it.

An Jing’s face remained expressionless, not making a sound, as though he could clearly hear his own heart beating.

It was the same for the Immortal Qian Qiu; throughout the ages, he had encountered too many experts, including Martial Arts Emperors, true Sect Leaders, and top Swordsmen, but these beings eventually turned to ash in his presence.

Thus, he considered the fate of the Swordsman before him to be no different in the end.

An Jing took a light breath in and out, the purple qi around him pulsing more frequently, and with a fierce stomp of his foot, his body shot out like an arrow released from its bow.

Between heaven and earth, a collision occurred between one purple and one black qi, the purple vast and mysterious, while the black was sinister and overpowering.

A cold light flashed in An Jing’s eyes, and then his hand sweeping the Dulu Sword across the front.

The aura of the Sword Qi formed a large circle, resembling a bright full moon.

Under this sword, the giant ghastly face seemed almost immobile, and the world fell silent.

Then, a crisp shattering sound broke the silence, quickly followed by a succession of similar sounds, incessant to the ear.

The giant ghostly face showed countless cracks, like a spider’s web.

Those fragments turned into specks of fireflies, slowly rising to the sky, returning to the heavens.

In the next moment, the Immortal Qian Qiu stretched out his hand, absorbing the scattered aura into his body, now standing in mid-air like a celestial being descending onto the mundane world, looking down at An Jing, who was tightly holding the Dulu Sword, and asked, “Strike again.”

An Jing didn’t speak, his hand gripping the Dulu Sword tightly, his brow furrowed in silence.

The Immortal Qian Qiu before him was simply too strong, showing no flaws or weaknesses, and he seemed to have not yet displayed his full strength.

The Immortal Qian Qiu placed his hands behind his back, his eyes calm and ripple-free.

An Jing’s palm was on the hilt of the Dulu Sword; in that lightning-fast moment, he drew the Sword.

Sword Drawing Skill!

All the essence, spirit, and qi of the Swordsman converged to a single point, then was drawn forth; the sword blade gathered a cold glint, and the Sword Qi was even more bitingly cold and supreme.

With one sword strike, the world was astounded!

After reaching the Seventh Realm of Sword Dao, An Jing’s swordsmanship had also truly reached the pinnacle, turning decay into wonder.

The Immortal Qian Qiu clearly felt this Sword Intent and saw the Sword Light approaching, but he could not evade this streak of Sword Light, forced to endure the strike; his body and soul seemed about to be torn apart, nearly dissipating into the ether.

The figure of the Immortal Qian Qiu started to sway, and then a mist of blood exploded at the chest area; the injury he had forcefully suppressed now burst forth completely.

Such was the terror of the Seventh Realm; even the supreme expert of all time, the Immortal Qian Qiu, could not avoid this peerless sword strike. Were it not for his complete detachment from the world, its profound mysteries endless, this sword would have left him sprawling on the ground as a corpse like Zongzheng Huachun.

Naturally, An Jing would not miss this golden opportunity. He controlled the flow of True Qi, and the Evil Suppressing Sword turned into six beams of cold light sweeping towards the front, as if forming a Sword Qi river that swept across the heavens.

The Immortal Qian Qiu’s True Yuan churned, and black thunder surged around him, crackling loudly. Then, with a clap of his hand, the black thunder roared towards the front, its terrifying force resembling a meteor falling to earth.

In the instant the Sword Qi river collided with the black thunder, a streak of chill light surged out, and the Dulu Sword, with a formidable posture, advanced unstoppably from their center.

Invisible Sword!

The Immortal Qian Qiu sensed something but it was too late; a sword light, unseen and formless, came whooshing, submerging him in the tidal wave of Sword Qi.

An Jing, his body and sword united as one, entered a state of profound mystery.

Heaven and earth bore witness to only one sword!

This sword, swift as a shooting star, was such that not only was the sword unseen, its light unseen, but even the aura of the sword was imperceptible.

In the end, this sword pierced straight into the chest of the Immortal Qian Qiu.

“Teacher!”

Qi Xuan Dao, engaged in battle with Zhao Qingmei, cried out in shock at the sight.

The Immortal Qian Qiu, looking at the sword in his chest, said, “What a fast sword.”

Before the words fell, An Jing was about to pull the sword out of the Immortal Qian Qiu’s chest.

But in the next moment, a shocking scene unfolded—the Immortal Qian Qiu actually grasped the blade of The World’s First Sword tightly with his hand, black thunder flickering in his palm, and upon colliding with the blade of the Dulu Sword, countless sparks flew.

“Not good!”

In that sudden moment of crisis, An Jing did not hesitate to let go of the Dulu Sword and retreated backwards, nearly at the same time as the palm holding the Dulu Sword, the Immortal Qian Qiu flipped his hand, and the world seemed to turn upside down.

An Jing, standing between heaven and earth, also turned upside down, his blood flowing in reverse.

An Jing’s body made cracking sounds, seemingly struck by an invisible, weighty force, as if a vast mountain had been placed upon his shoulders.

An Jing’s body channeled the “Nameless Heart Scripture,” and the purple True Qi within his Qi Sea surged like the vast channels of rivers and lakes, blocking the overwhelming momentum descending like mountains.

Then, these two forces intertwined continuously before actually surging into An Jing’s body.

In an instant, the seemingly calm surface within his body became tumultuous, filled with murderous intent. If these two forces were to explode, even An Jing’s flesh would probably perish in an instant.

Those two streams of Qi Mechanisms moved back and forth without end, as if ceaselessly. An Jing’s divine soul began to show signs of wavering. Although it had only been a moment, An Jing felt as if years had passed, and the scene before his eyes started to blur.

“I cannot allow this pressure of an everlasting immortal to overwhelm me,” An Jing silently resolved, focusing on rotating the “Nameless Heart Scripture.” All the acupoints in his body began to pulsate as a profound sense of mystery overwhelmed him, with the heavens, earth, sun, and stars under his feet.

The “Nameless Heart Scripture” is known as the foremost Heart Method Martial Arts of the time, so mysterious and enchanting that it immediately unraveled the formidable pressure from the eternal immortal.

Boom–! Boom–!

Between heaven and earth, the sound of dull, thunderous impacts resounded incessantly.

The eternal immortal took advantage of the time to suppress his internal injuries.

Having reached the Grandmaster Realm, the True Qi within the body had transformed into True Yuan. In addition to refining the physical body, the recovery speed of True Yuan could be seen by the naked eye, transforming decay into something miraculous. Coupled with the formidable physical body of a Grandmaster, it was almost impossible to kill them unless the injury was fatal.

The eternal immortal before him had not died for a thousand years, and his body’s blood, flesh, and bones were very different from those of others.

Seeing how quickly An Jing freed himself, a hint of solemnity emerged in the immortal’s heart.

In the next moment, hundreds of An Jing’s afterimages appeared before the eternal immortal, solid and lasting.

An Jing held the Dulu Sword in his hand, striking non-stop. Each of the hundreds of silhouettes was unique in form, with each move differing from the next, yet each shadow’s technique was more exquisite than the most skillful sword manual in the world.

The eternal immortal witnessed the sharpness of the Immortal Sword and the Dulu Sword and chose not to engage directly, instead continuously retreating.