Chapter 55: Heavenly Flying Immortal
Translator: Krukist
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Wang Feng pondered for a moment. Unable to force out the Nether Shore Fireflies, he decided to let it be for now.
What truly made Wang Feng choose to wait and observe was the System's words. As the System's master, he believed that if there was any danger, the System would not stand idly by.
Shaking his head, Wang Feng was about to delve deeper into the Ancient Land of Fallen Gods when he suddenly frowned and turned around.
Behind him, a figure was slowly approaching—a middle-aged man dressed in simple robes, carrying a massive sword on his back.
The sword was enormous, larger than any Wang Feng had ever seen, even taller than the man himself. Wang Feng felt a wave of wariness; the man had entered within ten li of him unnoticed. Even though Wang Feng had been distracted, it shouldn't have been to this extent. The only explanation was that this middle-aged man was incredibly strong—far from ordinary.
"Your sword is huge," Wang Feng remarked with a smile.
"You are strong," the middle-aged man replied, his voice hoarse, as if he hadn't spoken in a long time.
"You're not bad yourself," Wang Feng said, maintaining his nonchalant demeanor.
"My sword wishes to fight you."
"But I'm busy..."
"My sword wishes to fight you."
"Your sword isn't sharpened."
"I am its edge."
Wang Feng fell silent. This was the first time he had encountered someone so devoted to the sword since meeting people like Ye Gucheng. This man was a pure swordsman, just like Yan Shisan. For him, there was nothing but the sword.
"Fighting me comes at a high price," Wang Feng said, eyeing the man.
The middle-aged man said nothing, merely staring at Wang Feng with dull, lifeless eyes.
"If I win, you come with me," Wang Feng proposed after a moment. He didn't mention what would happen if he lost, but he believed the man understood the stakes.
They held no animosity and were strangers, but Wang Feng knew that if he lost, death would be the only outcome. The sword was a tool for killing, and this was more than just a saying.
The middle-aged man nodded, slowly taking the massive sword from his back and gently caressing it. He didn't release any aura, yet Wang Feng felt a chilling coldness enveloping him.
Wang Feng shrugged, walked over to a large black tree, picked up a black branch, and held it in his hand.
The middle-aged man's eyes flickered with confusion as he observed Wang Feng's actions.
"This is my sword," Wang Feng explained with a smile.
As soon as he finished speaking, Wang Feng moved. Holding the branch, the power within him surged wildly. The once-harmless branch suddenly radiated an extreme sharpness, causing the surrounding space to tremble faintly.
A vast sword intent rose from Wang Feng's body, sometimes cold as ice, other times blazing like fire. With this sword intent, he thrust forward.
Though the move seemed ordinary, an unparalleled sharpness surged from all directions toward the middle-aged man. The space around him seemed to turn into a quagmire, rendering him immobile.
As Wang Feng's strike approached, the middle-aged man stopped caressing his sword. A glint of light flashed in his dull eyes, and then he swung the massive sword.
With that swing, a terrifying sword beam tore through the void, shooting out like a rainbow. The intense sharpness caused the surrounding black trees to shatter into pieces.
Boom!
The two sword beams collided violently, sending countless sword qi shooting out in all directions. The ground around them was torn apart, and the dense forest was cleared, forming a hundred-meter-wide open space.
Neither Wang Feng nor the middle-aged man paid attention to the destruction. Their eyes were locked on each other as they moved simultaneously.
One wielded a branch, the other a massive sword. Though this match seemed unequal, the two clashed fiercely. The branch didn't break, and the sword remained unsharpened, yet they exchanged powerful blows that expanded the open space from ten meters to a hundred.
For the first time since arriving in this world, Wang Feng fought freely and satisfactorily.
He suddenly understood Ye Gucheng and Ximen Chuixue, Yan Shisan and Xie Xiaofeng. As the saying goes, finding a true kindred spirit in life is enough.
Boom!
After another clash, both Wang Feng and the middle-aged man stood facing each other, slightly out of breath. Their fighting spirits soared, and the terrifying power radiating from their bodies caused the space around them to visibly distort.
At that moment, Wang Feng was deeply shaken—not by the middle-aged man's strength, but by the strange state within his own body.
During the fight, he felt the Profound Qi inside him circulating more smoothly and quickly. Even in the Ancient Land of Fallen Gods, he could rapidly absorb the sparse Profound Qi around him.
Most importantly, when the Profound Qi completed a full cycle through his body and passed through his heart, the Profound Qi that emerged from his heart had become stronger—not in quantity, but in quality.
Without a doubt, Wang Feng knew this was due to the Nether Shore Fireflies resting on his heart.
"Your sword is similar to one of my sect's elders. If you meet him, you might become kindred spirits," Wang Feng said with a light smile.
"Who is he?" the middle-aged man asked, a glimmer of interest flashing in his dull eyes.
"He is a pure man. Compared to him, your sword still falls short. Not just him, but several of my sect's elders surpass your sword."
The middle-aged man wasn't angered by Wang Feng's words; instead, his eyes gleamed as he stared at Wang Feng and asked, "How so?"
"Their swords have souls. Yours does not yet," Wang Feng replied bluntly, though inwardly he thought, This act is really uncomfortable!
The middle-aged man's sword was strong—exceptionally strong. If Wang Feng hadn't trained in the sword techniques of Ye Gucheng and others, and if he didn't have their memories of swordsmanship, he wouldn't have felt confident in blocking the man's strike.
"Your sword also lacks a soul," the middle-aged man countered, a flicker in his eyes as he glanced at Wang Feng.
"Because I don't cultivate the sword—I cultivate the heart," Wang Feng said with a smile.
"I have one sword strike. If you can withstand it, I will follow you," the middle-aged man said, regarding Wang Feng intently.
"Please," Wang Feng responded.
As soon as Wang Feng spoke, the middle-aged man closed his eyes. His massive sword stood vertically before him, and his hands, now reddened, gripped the blade. The sword began to tremble violently.
Hum!
A sword hum, like the toll of a great bell, resounded throughout the area. As the sound echoed, Wang Feng seemed to see countless small swords emerge behind the middle-aged man, gathering together to form a massive sword.
"Heavy Sword, No Edge!"
At this moment, the middle-aged man opened his eyes, bright light flashing within them. With a low roar, he gripped the hilt with both hands and thrust the sword into the ground. The ground beneath him instantly shattered.
This strike wasn't aimed at Wang Feng but at the ground, as if the man wasn't fighting Wang Feng but performing for him.
Just as Wang Feng was puzzled, he was shocked. He looked up and saw an enormous sword descending from the void above, resembling the "Demacian Justice" from the games of his past life.
For a moment, Wang Feng wondered if this middle-aged man had inherited the legacy of Demacia and its famous sword.
The massive sword descended slowly, and with each inch it fell, Wang Feng felt his body grow heavier, as if the entire world was pressing down on him. The overwhelming pressure made his heart race.
The heavy sword truly had no edge, yet it was incredibly heavy.
Wang Feng didn't have time to think. He felt as if his entire body was about to be crushed by the massive sword. Narrowing his eyes, he recalled Ye Gucheng's creation of the Heavenly Flying Immortal. His aura changed, becoming calm and emotionless, like a still lake without a single ripple.
Wang Feng's state caused the middle-aged man's eyes to narrow as he stared intently at him. He could feel an incredibly terrifying sword momentum brewing within Wang Feng.
"Heavenly Flying Immortal!"
As the massive sword descended to within a meter of Wang Feng's head, he let out a low roar. In an instant, he appeared above the massive sword, and a sword beam shot out from the black branch in his hand.
This strike was like a flash of lightning, a rainbow streaking across the sky.
It was a glorious and swift move, carrying a bone-chilling coldness. Its unparalleled sharpness was unstoppable!
The sword fell, and the sword shattered.
Wang Feng slowly descended from the void, calmly watching the stunned middle-aged man.
The man's pupils contracted as he stared blankly at the starlight in the void above. He was shocked by Wang Feng's strike.
This strike was flawless and unbreakable.
"This strike... is called the Heavenly Flying Immortal?" the middle-aged man finally asked after a long silence.
Wang Feng nodded. He was exhausted; this one attack had consumed eighty percent of his Profound Qi. If it weren't for the strange state induced by the Nether Shore Fireflies, allowing him to rapidly absorb Profound Qi from the Ancient Land of Fallen Gods, he would have collapsed.
"Did you create it?"
"No, it was created by my sect's elder, Ye Gucheng. In my Divine Immortal Sect, there are currently three sword masters. Each has created their own sword technique, and none are inferior to this strike," Wang Feng replied, looking at the middle-aged man with a serious expression.
Hearing this, the middle-aged man trembled slightly. He stared at Wang Feng and asked, "Can I join your sect?"
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