Chapter 89: Demon Blade Flying Daggers

He toyed with the Limitless Sword for a while, but in the end found it uninteresting and put it away, tying it to his waist with a cord.

By then he was dressed in a robe of blue, the imposing longsword hanging at his side, and with his handsome features he cut a spirited figure indeed.

Brimming with vitality, he returned to the cave dwelling and took out the sword hilt in his hand.

A tiny fragment of blade still remained on it, and the hilt itself was black.

Upon its surface, lines like flowing blood seemed to course and gather, forming shifting veins of pattern.

From the blade fragment there was now and then a faint red glow, and with that little edge he drew it across the wooden table.

Without meeting the slightest resistance, it cut a gash an inch deep into the tabletop.

He then took out his Royal Authority Sword and tried it as well, and the result was the same, slicing through as though cutting tofu.

Yet seeing only an inch of blade exposed, he understood why it was so sharp, and why its previous owner had not wanted it.

There was simply too little blade left, and a wound of that size could not be fatal; it was utterly useless.

He took out the broken blade fragment again and placed the two pieces together, leaning them against one another on the wooden table.

He waited for a while, but there was no reaction at all, which Lin Yang found strange.

After all, the fragment had been so agitated moments ago, yet now it showed nothing.

So Lin Yang picked up the two pieces and kept turning them over and over, studying them from every angle.

Suddenly, a sharp streak of light spilled from the fragment, slicing cleanly across Lin Yang’s palm.

Blood flowed from Lin Yang’s hand onto the fragment, and in an instant the fragment drank it dry.

At that moment Lin Yang was drawn into an illusionary realm. Outside that illusion, the fragment was greedily gulping down his blood in great mouthfuls.

Having absorbed the blood, the fragment began to merge with the other hilt, forming a new object.

Inside the illusion, Lin Yang witnessed a scene that shook him to the core.

On a vast, desolate expanse, one side was the Immortal Realm, flourishing like a sea of blossoms, while the other was the Demon Realm, where blood soaked the earth red.

The two sides fielded countless troops. The foot soldiers of the Immortal Realm wore silver armor and drifted through the air.

In the Demon Realm, however, the fiends wore no armor at all; some had even lost their weapons and simply used their fists to beat an immortal soldier to death on the spot.

Yet the power unleashed by a single soldier alone was enough to wipe out the entire Yue Kingdom, let alone this immense battlefield.

This boundless warfront faced off against hundreds of thousands, even millions, of warriors. They advanced as though the two worlds had been torn apart and set against each other.

Even as flesh and blood flew everywhere ahead, they did not stop. Above them, hundreds and thousands of generals hovered in the sky.

They looked on coldly at one another. It was still the opening phase of the war, and these beings of great power had not yet entered the fray. Thus they merely watched the bloody carnage below with indifferent eyes.

In Lin Yang’s eyes, those soldiers were like creatures without feeling, charging forward again and again.

One of them, missing an arm and a leg, still forced his ruined body onward and bit down on the throat of a fallen Demon Realm soldier beside him.

Using only his remaining leg, he sprang up, pinning the Demon Realm soldier with one hand.

With a savage bite, he tore out the other man’s throat; his own mouth became a mangled blur of blood and flesh, horrific to behold.

But he merely spat out the flesh from his mouth, took out a pill to stop his blood from flowing, and continued fighting with his other hand, lifting his saber and charging once more.

Alas, the loss of so much blood and so much strength left him far too weak. The moment he rose into the sky, a Demon Realm soldier wielding a mace smashed him to pieces.

The battlefield was unimaginably distant. To those soldiers, the gap between them was already narrow, but to Lin Yang they were miles apart with every step.

The armies, numbering hundreds of thousands or even millions, battled in the heavens; the warfront alone stretched for light-years.

Who knew how long had passed? The slaughter of those foot soldiers flashed before his eyes like a rapid montage.

It was as though the scene were fast-forwarding, impossible to see clearly. At last, when half of both armies had been killed, the generals finally made their move.

The collision between the two sides cracked heaven and earth apart. In particular, one Immortal Realm general wearing gauntlets punched through space itself, sending countless soldiers tumbling into a spatial storm.

That Immortal Realm general, meanwhile, became the target of a swarm after attacking the Demon Realm troops below.

He endured the assaults of dozens of men alone, and before the other Immortal Realm generals could come to his aid, he had already been killed under concentrated fire.

Then the men of the Demon Realm began chanting the same hand seal, and the entire world filled with black qi.

The black qi merged and merged, trapping the general within it, and in a single instant he was reduced to a skeleton.

Yet when that skeleton fell to the ground and landed before Lin Yang, it still shimmered with rainbow-colored light. Lin Yang reached out to touch it, only for his hand to pass straight through.

Amid that great battle, Lin Yang suddenly sensed something.

He raised his head and looked toward a Demon Realm general, who held a black longsword in his hand.

When that sword wounded an enemy, it instantly drew away a tremendous amount of blood. The Demon Realm general grew ever more ferocious as the fighting went on.

In the end, over the course of tens of thousands of years, he killed more than ten opponents in succession. This made the Immortal Realm generals unwilling to approach him, so the Demon Realm general chose to cooperate with his comrades and hunt the others from the Immortal Realm instead.

But because he had grown too arrogant, something finally set its sights on him. In the sky, a hand appeared, vast enough to blot out the heavens and large enough to encompass an entire star system.

It struck him dead with a single slap, and after he was killed, a furious roar rolled down from the sky.

"Immortal Emperor, you damn old fool, you do not play by the rules!"

High above, two colossal manifestations of ten thousand zhang stood facing one another.

One was a radiant imperial figure, majestic beyond compare, with several golden dragons coiling around his body.

The one those golden dragons faced was a Demon Sovereign brimming with demonic aura.

He stood like a death god in black robes, surrounded by thick black qi. Within that black mist could be seen souls struggling endlessly, the gods and spirits he had hunted down over billions of years.

Then the view dropped once more. Under the force of that overwhelming attack, the longsword shattered into pieces of all shapes and sizes.

At last, amid the spatial fragments stirred up by the battle, it was carried down into the mortal world, and after changing hands it finally came into Lin Yang’s possession.

At that moment, Lin Yang was abruptly pulled out of the illusion by a wave of weakness. Looking at the wound on his hand and his pale face, he said in amazement, "Damn, you really are a bloodthirsty one. And to think your origins are this outrageous."

Lin Yang stared at the blood-wrapped fragment in astonishment. He hurriedly sat down to recover his strength.

An hour later, the fragment had finally finished fusing, and had formed a flying knife. Its surface was covered in blood-red patterns, both alluring and terrifying.

He picked it up and played with it for a moment; that tiny glint of cold light was truly horrifying. He casually drew it across a nearby stone, and it passed through without meeting the slightest resistance.

He stepped out of the cave dwelling and controlled the flying knife to pass through a mountain. The mountain showed no reaction at all; it was simply split cleanly in two.

That terrifying strike alarmed the others, and the disciples on guard hurried over to ask what had happened.

After sending them away, Lin Yang returned to the cave dwelling and began another round of cultivation.