Chapter 190
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Chapter 190: Lives of the World of Martial Arts
As the words fell, a gentle breeze suddenly stirred the heavens and earth. Unlike the roaring winds of a storm, this sudden gust lightly swept up the dust, revealing a glimmer of light through the thick darkness.
In a space clogged with blood-red and dark hues, the black array flags unfurled with flamboyant arcs.
That streak of black did not blend into the gloomy and heavy atmosphere of the Tian Yan Tribe; it was more like a sharp sword hidden in the darkness, quietly tearing open the beast’s body and moving towards a fatal strike.
"This is my own formation," Nineteen said, standing beneath the pavilion where blood-colored light seeped through, struggling to control the oppressive gloom in her heart.
A sword cultivator possesses their own swordsmanship, sword domain, sword spirit, and unique sixth realm; thus, a formation master must also have their own formation.
And it must be one that belongs solely to them.
"My initial intention in studying formations was to create such a formation."
The girl’s black clothes fluttered as she spoke, and a brilliant smile brightened her pale face. She looked earnestly at Ming He, her eyes pure and bright:
"Before you appeared, the human race looked to Qin Chu Yi as their hope."
"Before Qin Chu Yi was born, the title of hope and future belonged to Mu Chen of the Canglang Sect."
"Going further back, there was Fu Yao, along with other young prodigies from the human race who started to show promise. They could be disciples of prestigious sects or lone rogue cultivators in remote corners."
"Even further back, thousands of years ago, the beginnings, endings, and continuations all stemmed from the human race’s Sword Master, Li Xuantian."
"It seems that for thousands of years, the human race has been waiting for the emergence of an extraordinary genius, a sword cultivator capable of standing alongside the unmatched grace of the Sword Master, hoping she could achieve what he once accomplished."
"To expel the other races from Tianwu, to cleanse a thousand years of chaos, and to restore our beautiful homeland to clarity and openness, allowing that pure and bright moon to hang high in the clouds, never to fall again."
"But I have always felt that the Tianwu Continent belongs to all beings of the World of Martial Arts. The honors and humiliations, the glories and disgraces, should never rest solely on one person."
"This is the responsibility all beings on the Tianwu Continent must bear; the battlefield of the heavens is no exception."
The young girl in black slightly clenched her teeth, speaking each word with clarity and resolve: “The human race once had a combined battle formation, gathering the strength of practitioners of the same realm to unite against enemies, slaughtering the Tian Yan Tribe before their long swords.”
“However, constrained by differences in realms and strength, the potential is limited.”
“So I have been thinking, if relying solely on the strength of the human race cannot achieve unity, then can we rely on formations?”
Her right hand gripped a black array flag, blood seeping from her lips, quickly soaking her pristine clothes: “I want the war on the battlefield of the heavens to include all cultivators present, not just the human race.”
No limitations on realm or strength, regardless of whether they are human or of other races, as long as they stand on the battlefield of the heavens and oppose the Tian Yan Tribe, they can fight together.
Even without any prior cooperation or coordination, it doesn’t matter.
“My formation is called the Floating Life Formation.”
“The Floating Life Formation is also a combined battle formation, but it is somewhat more overbearing and forceful.”
“It does not require the strength of individuals to engage directly in battle and eliminates the limitations of incompatible spiritual energies, naturally removing all unreasonable aspects and causal logic within the formation.”
“Once the formation activates, as long as the formation master holds the intent, and the spiritual energy of beings on the battlefield of the heavens moves, the practitioners at the formation’s core can stand in an undefeated position.”
The human race cannot battle the Emperor realm cultivators for two main reasons: one is the Emperor’s pressure that oppresses the practitioners’ minds and breaths, making even the act of gripping a sword seem an extravagant hope.
However, Ming He did not have this worry.
Because geniuses do not abide by common reasoning; they need no justification. Nineteen felt that while anyone could be intimidated by the heavy oppression of the Emperor’s pressure, Ming He would not be.
Neither she nor Qin Chu Yi would.
Having seen vast mountains and rivers, the lofty sky and boundless seas, their gaze lingered only at the pinnacle of the nine heavens, embracing the stars, their hearts completely captivated by the presence of the person and the landscape before them. What fear could they have of an ethereal and insubstantial pressure?
The second reason lies in the disparity of spiritual energy.
The Emperor Realm represents the zenith of cultivation in this world, where practitioners possess an inexhaustible spiritual ocean.
The human race has not witnessed an Emperor Realm Practitioner for thousands of years, leaving the extent of the Tian Yan Tribe clan leader’s spiritual energy a mystery.
Thus, neither an individual nor a group alone can stand against him; it must be a collective effort, one person united with many.
This includes not only the Earth Emperor Realm practitioners of the human race but all beings on the battlefield of the heavens.
As long as breath remains, they can channel their spiritual energy into the Floating Life Formation.
Nineteen’s eyes shone with a bright, intense light as she gazed into the depths of Ming He and Qin Chu Yi’s eyes, a soft smile lingering within.
The human race craves the emergence of an extraordinary genius, yet it requires more than just genius.
Those who gather in the shadows, their presence barely noticeable amidst the throng, are also integral to the beings of the Tianwu Continent.
Thus, this is not merely Ming He and Qin Chu Yi’s battlefield.
This is the battlefield for all beings of the World of Martial Arts.
They fight alongside Ming He!
Facing such pure, fervent gazes, Ming He blinked, and the oppressive weight in her heart was gently swept away by the wind, dissipating into the vast expanse.
The Floating Life Formation harnesses the strength of all beings on the battlefield of the heavens, focusing it at its core. The clash between the formation’s heart and the Tian Yan Tribe clan leader may seem like a duel between individuals, but behind them stands the united force of countless beings from the World of Martial Arts.
Ming He and Qin Chu Yi are the chosen core, selected by Nineteen, the formation master.
In the distance, the black array flags fluttered defiantly in the wind, standing tall like guardians amidst the swirling dust. Nearby, the girl in black, her face pale and streaked with blood, bore a single bright spot of determination.
Amidst the chaos of the recent battle, Nineteen had seized the moment to deploy the formation known as "Floating Life."
Ming He, still unfamiliar with the intricacies of formation mastery, had yet to comprehend the formation’s inception or conclusion. Yet, she placed her trust in Nineteen and the comrades by her side.
In a moment that stretched and contracted, Ming He and Qin Chu Yi exchanged resolute glances with Nineteen, solidifying their next course of action.
In that fleeting instant, Mu Xuan Ye, plummeting from the sky, was intercepted by the Tian Yan Tribe clan leader. A devastating fist struck, scattering a mist of blood into the air—a hauntingly beautiful yet tragic sight, like crimson fireworks erupting against a desolate sky.
Time was running out!
Ming He and Qin Chu Yi exchanged a glance, then sprang into action, their figures soaring like startled swans, ascending swiftly toward the heavens.
In Ming He’s hand, the Jing Ying Sword gleamed brighter than snow, a fleeting rainbow as it was hurled forward, piercing through spatial nodes and cutting through the mist to intercept the Tian Yan Tribe’s lethal strike.
On the other side, Qin Chu Yi surged forward with the momentum of the Floating Life Formation, her red attire billowing like flames. She stood at the forefront of the storm, her white Chi Li sword slashing relentlessly, tearing through the edge of the brocade robe.
"Boom!"
The Jing Ying Sword trembled violently at its hilt, circling through the air before returning to Ming He’s outstretched hand. In the distance, waves of black energy surged forth, dense and unrelenting, aiming to engulf Ming He.
Accompanied by the Emperor’s deliberate release of pressure, the stagnant energy shattered into nothingness.
"Is that all?"
Ming He scoffed inwardly, her expression unwavering. She steadied her gaze, tightened her grip on the sword, and unleashed her wrist; the sword intent flowed with a calm yet unyielding grace, slicing through the air with seamless precision.
Noticing Mu Xuan Ye’s descent, narrowly avoiding a surge of black energy, Ming He’s brow furrowed as she stepped lightly through the void.
Her blue figure moved with the agility of a fish gliding through the Deep Sea, spinning gracefully as she reached out to catch Mu Xuan Ye, a faint smile playing on her lips.
Her voice, warm yet edged with the sharpness of a sword cultivator, carried a promise: "Mu Xuan Ye, I will defeat him."
She even contemplated killing him.
Because Senior Sister’s mother, along with countless others of the human race, had perished at the hands of the Tian Yan Tribe.
Mu Xuan Ye gazed at her, transfixed, her eyes reflecting that radiant smile, and a wave of emotion stirred within her heart.
She began to understand.
To understand why such a person was regarded as the hope and future of the human race.
Tsk, another one.
Beneath the ancient pavilion, a demon lord clad in red attire with flowing black hair continued to channel spiritual energy into the Floating Life Formation, all the while keeping a watchful eye on Ming He. Noticing the look in Mu Xuan Ye’s eyes, she shook her head, all too familiar with such emotions.
Ji Wu Xu lowered her gaze slightly, then, at Ming He’s call of "Catch her," she conjured a fluffy fox tail, gently wrapping it around Mu Xuan Ye’s body and placing her softly on the ground of the ancient pavilion.
Her eyes flicked over Fu Yao and Qing Long, both pale yet still channeling spiritual energy, and she thought that if more arrived, this place would become a sanctuary for the wounded.
Standing atop the clouds, Ming He remained oblivious to Ji Wu Xu’s musings. After releasing Mu Xuan Ye, she turned, gripping her sword tightly. With a slight intake of breath, seven shimmering swords materialized around her, swirling within the mist.
The sword light pierced the heavens with a sharp brilliance, and the starlight surged anew, heralding the glory of the Big Dipper Seven Star Sword Array.
Qin Chu Yi’s Chi Li sword met hers from afar, their lights intertwining—one in blue clothes like the wind, the other in red attire like fire—standing side by side before the Tian Yan Tribe clan leader.
The Big Dipper Seven Star Sword Array enveloped their foe, while behind them, the human race cultivators on the battlefield of the heavens provided a steady stream of spiritual energy.
The clash of a battlefield’s might against the power of an Emperor—who would prevail remained uncertain.
The Tian Yan Tribe clan leader’s expression shifted slightly under the relentless assault.
He narrowed his eyes, a flicker of caution and coldness rising in his gaze as he transformed his fingers into a palm, unleashing a continuous wave of power that surged like an unyielding tide, each wave stronger than the last.
In that moment, Ming He and Qin Chu Yi felt like fragile boats caught in a tempest, their forms swaying, their spiritual energy ungrounded, teetering precariously on the edge.
"Shift the momentum!" Nineteen’s deep voice echoed through the void from afar.
The girl in black glanced at Mo Xiao, who was steadily channeling demonic energy into her. A faint smirk played on her lips as a sense of fearless calm settled in her heart. Her fingers danced gracefully, and the array flag twirled with a haunting beauty that surpassed even Qing Long.
The atmosphere shifted abruptly, like the sun breaking through after a storm, the turbulent waves of the sea suddenly stilling. Radiant light spilled from the horizon, merging the sea with the azure sky, unveiling a breathtaking and awe-inspiring natural spectacle.
Ming He and Qin Chu Yi exchanged a glance, their forms shifting as their sword intent adapted. The surging waves of energy around them calmed, and Ming He stood firm and unyielding, like a mountain rooted deep in the earth, the falling dust transforming into the sharpest of blades.
The Unsheathing Style began!
It flowed seamlessly into the Liu Yun Sword Technique, followed by the Nebula Sword Art, the Big Dipper Seven Star Sword Array, the Luoheng Sword, the Nameless Sword Technique, the Nine Styles of Swordsmanship, and the Sword Flight…
As Ming He advanced, all the sword techniques she had ever practiced converged within her, willingly becoming embellishments that added sharpness and brilliance to the swordsmanship she had forged herself.
Sword shadows materialized in every direction, and at Ming He’s thought, the Zichan Cave ascended, hovering above the three of them, shielding them from the encroaching black fog and the first light of dawn.
Qin Chu Yi’s sword followed closely.
Carrying the proud and ancient essence of the Young Master of the Ancient Clan, it bore the full weight of her fury and battle intent. Each strike tore through the Tian Yan Tribe clan leader’s splendid brocade robe, piercing the untouchable pride and authority of an Emperor.
Before this day, Ming He had never imagined the appearance or strength of an Emperor Realm Practitioner, nor had she thought that in such a terrifying confrontation, she and Qin Chu Yi could not only hold their own but push him to this brink.
Was this the true measure of an Emperor Realm Practitioner?
Or was the Tian Yan Tribe clan leader simply weaker than expected?
The grandeur of the Sword Master she had glimpsed on the sword tomb far surpassed this.
Yet, this was not merely Ming He and Qin Chu Yi’s battle—it was the fight for the entire battlefield of the heavens.
Thus, achieving victory was not so unimaginable after all.
After hundreds of exchanges, as the world cycled through day and night repeatedly, Ming He, consumed by exhaustion, thrust her sword forward.
With a sharp "tear," the sword tip ripped through the exquisite fabric of the splendid robe, piercing straight through and drawing a splash of blood three inches to the right of the Tian Yan Tribe clan leader’s heart.
This was the first time a human race cultivator had breached the defense of an Emperor Realm Practitioner, leaving a tangible wound despite the vast gulf in their realms.
Compared to Mu Xuan Ye’s desperate strike, which had carved a ghastly scar on the Emperor’s face at the cost of her life, Ming He’s attack was pure and unadorned, relying solely on the force of her spiritual energy and the precision of her sword techniques.
At this moment, Ming He’s blue clothes were stained a deep crimson. The intertwining red attires exchanged meaningful glances, their eyes concealing profound emotions. To an unknowing observer, it might have seemed like a scene from a grand wedding.
