Ze Tian Ji

Edited by: Michyrr

Chen Changsheng did not enter the Green Leaf World, nor did he enter the Garden of Zhou.

He could not be sure that the Angel was like the previous Demon Lord and able to see through spatial laws.

He would not make this choice, not until the final moment.

So against this current peril, what would he do?

He did something surprising.

He closed his eyes.

This was not disdain.

It was also not surrender.

It only symbolized focus, that he was attempting to find a way to break out of this situation.

The Angel was standing outside the storm of swords, its hand holding a spear of light and stabbing it toward him.

He knew that this was not what was really going on.

In this period, in that sight that he could not be at all sure was real, that Angel had been moving the entire time.

A moment ago, it was in the deepest part of the darkness, and in the next moment, it was at the weakest point of the sword array, and then it returned to its original position.

In this extremely brief span of time, the Angel had launched countless attacks against the sword array.

It was just that it was too fast, like a lightless thunderbolt. With just one’s eyes, it was simply impossible to sense that it was moving.

Chen Changsheng’s eyes also could not keep up with its speed. He could only rely on his sword array to defend and sense.

In these circumstances, it was simply impossible for him to confirm the Angel’s position.

So the strategy he had prepared for the Angel, those Heavenly Tome Monoliths transformed into stone pearls, naturally would not be able to touch the Angel.

This being the case, he might as well close his eyes. He would cease to chase after the Angel’s tracks with his eyes, choosing instead to spread his spiritual sense.

The spiritual sense spreading through the darkness was just like a net.

He still found it impossible to confirm the Angel’s position, but he could now clearly sense the traces left behind as the Angel moved through the net.

Those straight and randomly turning rays of light were dazzling to behold.

Chen Changsheng’s eyes were closed, his head was lowered, and his hands gripped his sword. He waited for a pattern to gradually appear in those tracks, or for them to slow.

The blind zither player guessed at what he was doing. He slightly tilted his head, and with a shake of his blood-drenched fingers, the snapped zither strings drifted out of the sword array. Like slender snakes, they attempted to seize those rays of light, to slow the movements of that Angel.

Alas, a vast gap of cultivation existed between the two.

The Angel apathetically stood outside the storm of swords, countless flickers of light flaring and extinguishing around it.

No matter how serene and formidable Chen Changsheng’s spiritual sense was, he still would not be able to truly bind it.

And the zither strings would never be able to chase its figure down.

When it was fighting, it was true light and lightning.

Its spear of light, holding limitless power, incessantly stabbed at the South Stream Temple sword array.

The swords began to whistle and howl while Chen Changsheng gradually paled. The shaking of his sea of consciousness had already inflicted significant internal injuries on him.

But he still did not give up, because it was evident that each spear thrust had much less power behind it.

The decrease in strength was because the Angel wanted to push its speed to the limit.

The Angel of the Sacred Light had chosen to be very cautious.

Caution was out of vigilance.

This meant that Chen Changsheng’s response was reasonable.

But it was still a great pity.

This pity was for the same reason as earlier.

The gap in cultivation levels was too great.

Hundreds of rays of lights flickered in and out of the darkness, like the twinkling of stars obscured by a thin layer of clouds.

In this brief span of time, the spear of light in the Angel’s hand had attacked the storm of swords more than four hundred times.

At the same time, that spear point that had passed through space and was now blocked by Chen Changsheng’s sword was now only half a foot from his eyes.

Countless swords were knocked away as they let out helpless cries of anger and reluctance.

The spear of light seemed to be proceeding slowly and unstoppably into the heart of the storm of swords.

It was like a great river cleaving through a mountain.

A dazzling light bursting out of the clouds.

The South Stream Temple sword array was about to break.

Chen Changsheng and the blind zither player were about to die.

......

......

Suddenly.

An even more dazzling light appeared in the darkness.

It was a flame from a primordial era that seemed capable of burning everything.

Even the darkness and the light of the Angel could serve as its fuel.

Soon after, a sword glow like a celestial river appeared in everyone’s eyes.

If the Angel’s spear of light was a great river cleaving through a mountain...

This sword glow was a celestial river shattering the sky as it descended.

The calm surface of its waters reflected golden flames, shone with countless bright and blinding rays of light.

Countless sparks appeared in the night sky and dropped to the ground.

Careful observation would reveal that these sparks came together into a straight line.

A battle was currently taking place at speeds beyond the ability of the human eye to see.

Those sparks were the traces left by this battle.

......

......

The Angel vanished from the perimeter of the storm of swords.

The spear point in front of Chen Changsheng also disappeared.

The innumerable sparks in the darkness were like fireworks, a beautiful and soul-stirring sight.

But what truly stirred the soul was that this was proof that the Angel’s true position had been figured out, forcing it to engage in battle.

Who did that sword glow of boundless light belong to?

What sort of flame could even burn the darkness?

Just who on this continent had a speed that could match an Angel of the Sacred Light?

Chen Changsheng did not need to analyze these questions.

In truth, the moment he sensed that light, he knew the answer to all of them.

That light was too bright, so bright that even the figure of the Angel seemed dim in comparison, and that spear of light seemed nothing more than an iron rod.

There was only one sword style in the world that could release such great light.

And Chen Changsheng was the only person in the world that had truly faced this sword style.

It was the strongest sword style of South Stream Temple, perhaps even the entire continent.

The Sword of Great Light.

......

......

The only person that could use the Sword of Great Light was Xu Yourong.

And only she had speed comparable to this Angel, and only the true flames of the Heavenly Phoenix could burn darkness.

Of the experts beneath the Divine Domain, only she could make the Angel of Sacred Light reveal its true self.

Xiaode would not be able to do it, nor would Xiao Zhang, Liang Wangsun, or the blind zither player.

From this aspect, Xu Yourong truly lived up to the name of the Heavenly Phoenix.

Her appearance made the situation abruptly change, but it was still not enough to alter the final conclusion.

The Sword of Great Light was truly powerful to an absurd level, but it still could not surmount that gap in cultivation.

Not everyone could be like Wang Po, spending a couple of weeks under a ginkgo tree comprehending the blade and then cleaving open the heavens and earth with one slash of the blade on the Luo River.

An indescribable pressure descended from the sky, like a giant mountain plummeting down.

The Angel could not see through the Sword of Great Light, but it could use the laws of the world to directly suppress it.

The light instantly dimmed.

The sands flurried and the winds raged as terrifying energy and Qi splashed everywhere as if they had physical form.

In the sandstorm, one could faintly make out the drifting figure of a girl in white, a white flower that had left its branch.

At this crucial moment, Chen Changsheng still had his eyes closed.

His spiritual sense had been chasing the Angel this entire time. Countless complicated lines gradually filled his painting, transforming it into a lake.

The entire courtyard was in this lake.

When Xu Yourong’s Sword of Great Light descended, he sensed it.

He sensed the Angel’s position.

All of his snowy plain instantly ignited.

All his true essence was madly sent forth.

A moment ago, he was still in the storm of swords.

A moment later, he was in front of the Angel.

And then, his sword stabbed.