Hao had already leaped forward, blocking most of the incoming attacks to protect the children behind him. He shouted anxiously, “Retreat quickly! Hao Sword Group, fall back to the very rear!!!”
Hao had already leaped forward, shielding the children from most of the attacks. He roared anxiously, “Retreat! The Hao Sword Team, fall back to the rear!!!”
His words snapped everyone to attention. Lou Weizhen, though young, possessed remarkable leadership skills. She immediately led the group in retreating toward the rear. However, the Swordmasters had no intention of letting them escape. Several elite Swordmasters drew their longswords, and without any visible movement, sharp sword beams shot forth. In an instant, the sky was filled with ghastly white flashes of sword light, like demons descending upon the earth. These beams streaked toward the children who hadn’t managed to retreat in time.
In the Galactic Empire, cultivators were always shrouded in mystery—not just because of their supreme status, but also because their cultivation methods were the empire’s greatest secret.
As Yang Hao had learned at the Raymond Star Advanced Academy, the Galactic Empire forbade ordinary people from cultivating. Soldiers and even officers were only permitted to study the empire’s few foundational techniques, never allowed to harness primal force or even true qi within their bodies.
But this didn’t mean the once-flourishing cultivation arts had vanished. Those techniques passed down from ancient immortals had now become the private treasures of various families. Within the Galactic Empire, only descendants of these families or those under the Senate could engage in such secretive practices. Cultivators like Yang Hao possessed true qi and their own unique cultivation methods. It was said that the most formidable among them could wield spells and treasures like immortals.
The Royal Swordmasters standing before Yang Hao were no ordinary swordsmen. While most swordsmen remained within the bounds of the empire’s foundational techniques, Swordmasters had undergone a complete transformation. Each had spent decades cultivating, attaining post-natal true qi. With their swords in hand, they could unleash sword energy propelled by their qi—effectively, from Yang Hao’s perspective, they could wield flying swords.
The barrage of white beams was nearly as powerful as flying swords. How could Yang Hao possibly block them all? As he struggled desperately, the beams were on the verge of striking the Hao Sword Team.
Fortunately, there was another person by his side—Maya, the outspoken and combative one. Though reckless, Maya had plenty of combat experience. The moment she saw the Royal Swordmasters attack, she fully grasped their strength. Watching Yang Hao fight so hard to protect the children, even at the cost of his own life, stirred something deep within her.
“Let me handle this!” Maya transformed into a spiritual entity, using the Great Sage’s Guiding Technique. In an instant, she managed to slightly divert the Swordmasters’ beams. Though the diversion was minor, it slowed them down just enough. In the split-second reprieve, the Hao Sword Team swiftly retreated to safety, suffering minimal losses.
“Hmph! Useless!” Wang Mu sneered coldly when his attack failed. “None of you will escape. Every last one of you will die.”
Even as he spoke, his hands moved swiftly. His seemingly omnipotent staff rose high into the air as he commanded loudly, “Royal Formation!!”
Royal Formation!!
The name alone was enough to shock the world. Even among the empire’s elite forces, the mere mention of this term ensured no one dared challenge it. Countless had tried to defeat it, but very few had succeeded.
The Royal Formation was an ancient battle array from the Wang family, originating from the sword immortals of antiquity. Few knew its exact origins, but one thing was certain: once the Wang family mastered it, they effortlessly rose to the pinnacle of the Ten Sword Schools, becoming a pillar of the empire.
In essence, the “Royal” Formation had made the Wang family what it was. The majority of their power and prestige stemmed from this undefeatable array.
Once, Wang Tao had his swordsmen train in the Royal Formation. Though they hadn’t even mastered the basics, they still swept through multiple swordsman teams, becoming synonymous with top-tier prowess. While Yang Hao had ambushed and defeated Wang Tao’s team with polar light, it wasn’t the Royal Formation’s failure—they hadn’t even drawn their swords at the time.
Now, standing before Yang Hao was the Royal Swordmaster Team. It was worth noting that when the Wang family first obtained this ancient formation, it had no name. It was only through the Royal Swordmasters’ relentless honing and application that it became known as the “Royal” Formation. Thus, this grand array was their signature technique.
The “Royal” Formation pooled the strength of many, refining it into a collective force dozens of times more powerful. When unleashed, it could shake heaven and earth. The key to its operation lay in the unity of its members—their minds and spirits had to be perfectly aligned. Judging by the Swordmasters’ flawless synchronization earlier, it was clear they had fought together so long that they moved as one.
As Wang Mu issued his command, the Swordmaster Team acted like a single machine. Within moments, hundreds of Swordmasters formed an intricate formation just a hundred meters from Yang Hao. Some floated high in the air, others stood stacked like acrobats, while a few crouched low, their eyes locked onto their targets like hawks.
“We’re doomed!” Hunyuanzi, with his keen senses, was the first to feel the gathering power of their enemies. It was an unimaginable force—one he hadn’t encountered since the era of sword immortals a thousand years ago. Back then, sword immortals would deploy their sects’ most formidable formations, clashing in battles where flying swords filled the skies, obscuring all else. Blood rained down as nascent souls perished beneath the merciless storm of blades.
It was a rain of death—inescapable, unavoidable. Those caught in it had but one fate: annihilation, with not even a sliver of hope or soul left behind. Under such a lethal formation, Yang Hao and his companions stood no chance. Once the “Royal” Formation was unleashed, they would vanish without a trace, reduced to wisps of smoke on this planet.
“Run! You’re no match for them!” Hunyuanzi was frantic. Despite having lived a thousand years, the old ghost had no desire to die. “At your current strength, you can still escape before the formation activates.”
Yang Hao’s swordsmanship might be lacking, but his raw power was formidable, especially his abundant true qi, which placed him among the elite. If he chose to flee, few could stop him.
But how could Yang Hao do such a thing? He had prepared to die here. Moreover, the Hao Sword Team was still present, along with Maya, Kevin, and his Demon Sword Team. Even if everyone else escaped, Yang Hao would never leave first. This was his life’s principle, a line even Hunyuanzi could never make him cross.
Thus, in the eyes of Hunyuanzi, Wang Mu, and the Swordmaster Team, Yang Hao was as good as dead. His ragtag followers stood even less of a chance.
If time could rewind—if, centuries later, Wang Mu and his men were to recall this moment—they would still believe Yang Hao’s death was inevitable. Even if a Great Luo Golden Immortal descended, no one could have saved Yang Hao.
But time didn’t rewind. In fact, events didn’t unfold as Wang Mu and the others had anticipated.
Yang Hao didn’t die. He didn’t need a Great Luo Golden Immortal to descend—he saved himself. Though his method was utterly unbelievable, his actions had always defied logic. Yet somehow, they worked—brilliantly so. Thus, this battle was destined to become a classic, an indelible mark in history—Yang Hao’s legend.
And the eternal shame of the empire and the Wang family.
Just as the Swordmaster Team completed their formation, poised to unleash the “Royal” Formation, Yang Hao raised something resembling a staff.
Of course, he didn’t actually have a staff—he had simply picked up a branch in imitation of Wang Mu, swinging it with exaggerated flair. Pointing his “staff” skyward, Yang Hao bellowed, “Formation!!”
At his reckless shout, the Demon Bear Team’s ranks descended into chaos. The damned bear-men shoved and jostled one another, stumbling and falling, some even losing their pants in the commotion.
At this moment, the Royal Swordmaster Team could have ended the battle by activating their formation. But Wang Mu and his Swordmasters were martial fanatics. Hearing that their opponents also had a formation, curiosity got the better of them. They paused, eager to see what trick Yang Hao was up to.
And a trick it was—a chaotic one. Despite having taught the formation to those idiot bear-men, they had utterly failed to grasp it. At this critical moment, they were a complete mess. Watching his own side in disarray while the enemy stood in perfect formation, Yang Hao’s face turned pale with fury.
“Fools,” Wang Mu sneered. “You call this a formation?”
“Why not? It’s an original creation!” Yang Hao, stubborn even in the face of death, retorted, “Let me tell you, once this ‘fart formation’ is set, it’ll be the end of you.”
“Ha!” Wang Mu, ever the arrogant one, wasn’t about to be intimidated by Yang Hao’s bravado. With a wave of his staff, he magnanimously declared, “Fine, I’ll let you set it up. Let’s see what tricks you have up your sleeve.”
In the Galactic Empire, the identity of cultivators was always shrouded in mystery—not only because of their exalted status, but more importantly due to the cultivation techniques themselves, which were the Empire’s greatest secret.
Just as Yang Hao had learned at the advanced academy on the planet Laimeng, the Galactic Empire forbade ordinary people from practicing cultivation. Soldiers and even officers were only allowed to study several basic techniques of the Empire. They were strictly prohibited from using any form of primal energy or true qi within their bodies.
This did not mean, however, that the once-popular cultivation arts had vanished entirely. These ancient cultivation techniques, passed down from the ancient immortal cultivators, had now become the private treasures of various noble families. Within the Galactic Empire, only the descendants of these families or those directly under the Elders’ Council were permitted to engage in such secret cultivation. These cultivators, like Yang Hao, all possessed true qi, each following their own unique cultivation path. It was said that the strongest among them could already wield magical techniques and artifacts like immortals.
Hao had already leaped forward, shielding the children from most of the attacks. He roared anxiously, “Retreat! The Hao Sword Team, fall back to the rear!!!”
His shout jolted everyone awake. Lou Weizhen, though young, possessed remarkable leadership skills. She immediately led the group in retreating toward the rear. However, the Swordmasters had no intention of letting them escape. Several elite Swordmasters drew their blades, and without any visible movement, sharp sword beams shot forth. In an instant, the sky was filled with ghastly white flashes of sword light, like demons descending upon the earth. These beams streaked toward the children who hadn’t yet managed to retreat.
In the Galactic Empire, cultivators were always shrouded in mystery—not just because of their supreme status, but also because their cultivation methods were among the Empire’s most closely guarded secrets.
As Yang Hao had once learned at the Raymond Star Advanced Academy, the Galactic Empire strictly forbade ordinary people from practicing cultivation. Soldiers, and even officers, were only permitted to study the Empire’s foundational techniques, never allowed to harness raw energy or true qi within their bodies.
But this didn’t mean the once-flourishing cultivation arts had vanished entirely. Those ancient techniques, passed down from the immortals of old, had now become the private treasures of noble families. Within the Galactic Empire, only the descendants of these families or those under the Senate’s jurisdiction could engage in such secretive training. Like Yang Hao, these cultivators wielded true qi, each with their own unique methods. It was said that the most formidable among them could already wield spells and treasures like true immortals.
The Royal Swordmasters standing before Yang Hao were no ordinary swordsmen. While most swordsmen remained within the bounds of the Empire’s foundational techniques, Swordmasters had undergone a complete transformation. Each had spent decades in cultivation, mastering acquired true qi. With their swords in hand, their sword energy could be unleashed through their qi, allowing them to project it outward. From Yang Hao’s perspective, these men were no different from him—capable of wielding flying swords.
The streaks of white light were nearly as powerful as flying swords. How could Yang Hao possibly block them all? As he struggled desperately, the beams were on the verge of striking the Hao Sword Team.
Fortunately, there was another person by his side—Maya, the outspoken and combative woman. Though reckless and brash, Maya had plenty of real combat experience. The moment she saw the Royal Swordmasters attack, she immediately grasped the severity of the situation. Watching Yang Hao fight so desperately, even willing to sacrifice himself to protect the children, stirred something deep within her.
“Leave it to me!” Maya transformed into a spiritual entity, channeling the Great Sage’s Guidance Technique. In an instant, she managed to slightly divert the Swordmasters’ beams. Though the diversion was minor, it slowed them down just enough. In the heat of battle, even the briefest delay could be decisive. Seizing the opportunity, the Hao Sword Team swiftly retreated to safety, suffering minimal losses.
“Pathetic!” Wang Mu sneered coldly as his first strike failed. “None of you will escape. Every last one of you will die.”
Even as he spoke, his hands moved without pause. His seemingly omnipotent staff rose high into the air as he barked his command: “Royal Formation!!”
**Royal Formation!!**
The name alone was enough to send chills down the spine. Even among the Empire’s elite forces, the mere mention of this term was enough to silence all opposition. Countless had sought to defeat it, but very few had ever succeeded.
The Royal Formation was an ancient battle array passed down through the Wang family, its origins tracing back to the sword immortals of antiquity. Though few knew its exact history, one thing was certain—once the Wang family mastered this formation, they effortlessly rose to the pinnacle of the Ten Sword Schools, becoming the Empire’s unshakable pillar.
In truth, it was the Royal Formation that had elevated the Wang family to greatness. The majority of their power and prestige stemmed from this undefeatable battle array.
Wang Tao had once attempted to teach his swordsmen the Royal Formation. Though they barely grasped the basics, even that incomplete version allowed them to dominate multiple sword teams, earning them a reputation as first-class warriors. While Yang Hao had managed to defeat Wang Tao’s swordsmen with a sneak attack using Aurora, that was no reflection on the Royal Formation’s strength—they hadn’t even had the chance to strike a single blow.
But now, standing before Yang Hao was the **Royal Swordmasters**. Legend had it that when the Wang family first obtained this ancient formation, it had no name. It was only through the relentless training and deployment by the Royal Swordmasters that it earned the title “Royal Formation.” Thus, this battle array was their true signature technique.
The Royal Formation was designed to combine the power of many, refining and amplifying their collective strength dozens of times over. When unleashed, its force could shake heaven and earth. The key to its operation lay in absolute unity of mind—every participant had to be in perfect sync, free of all distractions. Judging by the Swordmasters’ flawless coordination earlier, it was clear they had long since merged into a single entity through countless battles.
As Wang Mu’s command echoed, the Swordmasters moved like clockwork. Within moments, hundreds of them had assembled into a dense formation barely a hundred meters from Yang Hao. Some hovered high in the air, others stood stacked like a human pyramid, while a few crouched low to the ground, their eyes locked onto their targets like hawks.
“We’re finished!” Hunyuanzi, with his keen senses, was the first to detect the terrifying power gathering within the enemy ranks. It was an inconceivable force—one he hadn’t felt since the age of sword immortals a thousand years ago. Back then, immortals would clash with their most formidable formations, their flying swords dancing through the skies until the battlefield was awash in blood, countless nascent souls extinguished beneath the merciless rain of blades.
This was a rain of death—inescapable, unavoidable. Those caught within it had but one fate: annihilation. Not even their souls or final hopes would remain. Under such overwhelming killing intent, Yang Hao and his allies stood no chance. Once the Royal Formation was unleashed, they would vanish without a trace, reduced to mere wisps of smoke upon this planet.
“Run! You’re no match for them!” Hunyuanzi urged frantically. Despite having lived for a millennium, the old ghost had no desire to die. “With your current strength, you can still escape before the formation activates.”
Though Yang Hao’s swordsmanship was lacking, his raw power was formidable, especially his abundant true qi, which already placed him among the ranks of masters. If he truly chose to flee, few could stop him.
But how could Yang Hao ever do such a thing? He had come here prepared to die. With the Hao Sword Team, Maya, Kevin, and the Demon Sword Team still here, even if he sent everyone else away, he would never abandon them himself. This was Yang Hao’s principle—an unshakable line that even Hunyuanzi could never cross.
Thus, in the eyes of Hunyuanzi, Wang Mu, and the Swordmasters, Yang Hao was already a dead man. His ragtag followers stood no chance of survival.
If time could be rewound—if, centuries later, Wang Mu and his men were to recall this moment—they would likely still believe Yang Hao’s death had been inevitable. Even if a Great Luo Golden Immortal descended from the heavens, no one could have saved him.
But time did not rewind. In fact, events didn’t unfold as Wang Mu and the others had anticipated.
Yang Hao didn’t die. He didn’t need a Great Luo Golden Immortal to descend—he saved himself. Though his method was utterly unbelievable, as most of his actions tended to be, somehow, it worked. It worked **spectacularly**. Thus, this battle would go down in history as a classic—an indelible moment that would forever be remembered as **Yang Hao’s Classic**.
And as the Empire and the Wang family’s eternal shame.
Just as the Swordmasters completed their formation, their flying swords poised to strike, the Royal Formation brimming with power—Yang Hao raised something resembling a staff.
Of course, he didn’t actually have a staff. He had simply picked up a branch, mimicking Wang Mu’s theatrics, swinging it with exaggerated flair. Pointing his “staff” skyward, he bellowed: “Formation!!”
At his reckless shout, the Demon Bear Team erupted into chaos. The damned bear-men shoved and jostled one another, stumbling over themselves, some even falling flat on their faces, their pants dropping in the process.
Under normal circumstances, the Royal Swordmasters would have unleashed their formation and ended the battle right then. But Wang Mu and his Swordmasters were battle fanatics. Hearing that the enemy also had a formation, their curiosity got the better of them. They held back, eager to see what trick Yang Hao had up his sleeve.
And what a trick it was—a complete mess. Despite having taught the formation to the bear-men, those idiots had utterly failed to grasp it. At this critical moment, they were in total disarray. Watching his own side descend into chaos while the enemy stood in perfect formation, Yang Hao’s face turned pale with fury.
“Fools,” Wang Mu scoffed coldly. “You call this a formation?”
“Of course it is! This is my original creation!” Yang Hao refused to back down, even in the face of death. “Let me tell you—once this ‘fart formation’ is complete, it’ll be the end of you!”
“Ha!” Wang Mu, ever the arrogant noble, was hardly intimidated by Yang Hao’s bravado. With a dismissive wave of his staff, he declared, “Fine. I’ll let you finish setting it up. Let’s see what tricks you’ve got.”
The streaks of white sword qi were nearly as powerful as flying swords themselves. How could Yang Hao possibly block them all at once? Already overwhelmed, he watched helplessly as the sword beams neared the Hao Sword Group.
Hao had already leaped forward, shielding the children from most of the attacks. He roared anxiously, “Retreat! The Hao Sword Team, fall back to the rear!!!”
His words snapped everyone out of their daze. Lou Weizhen, though young, possessed remarkable leadership skills. She immediately led the group in retreating toward the rear. However, the Swordmasters had no intention of letting them escape. Several elite Swordmasters drew their longswords, and without any visible movement, sharp sword beams shot forth. In an instant, the sky was filled with ghastly white flashes of blades, like demons descending upon the earth. These beams streaked toward the children who hadn’t yet retreated.
In the Galactic Empire, cultivators were always shrouded in mystery—not just because of their supreme status, but also because their cultivation methods were the empire’s most closely guarded secrets.
As Yang Hao had once learned at the Raymond Star Advanced Academy, the Galactic Empire forbade ordinary people from practicing cultivation. Soldiers and even officers were only permitted to study the empire’s few foundational techniques, never allowed to harness raw energy or even true qi within their bodies.
But this didn’t mean the once-flourishing cultivation arts had vanished. Those techniques, passed down from ancient immortals, had now become the private treasures of certain families. Within the empire, only the descendants of these families or those under the Senate’s jurisdiction could engage in such secretive training. Like Yang Hao, these cultivators wielded true qi, each with their own unique methods. It was said that the most powerful among them could already wield spells and treasures like true immortals.
The Royal Swordmasters standing before Yang Hao were, of course, nothing like ordinary swordsmen. While those swordsmen still operated within the bounds of the empire’s foundational techniques, the Swordmasters had undergone a complete transformation. Each had spent decades in cultivation, mastering post-natal true qi. With their swords in hand, they could unleash sword energy that could slice through the air. From Yang Hao’s perspective, these men were just like him—capable of wielding flying swords.
The beams of white light were nearly as powerful as flying swords. How could Yang Hao possibly block them all? As he struggled desperately, the beams were about to strike the Hao Sword Team.
Fortunately, there was someone else by his side—Maya, the outspoken and brash woman. Though she often acted recklessly, Maya had plenty of combat experience. The moment she saw the Royal Swordmasters attack, she fully grasped the enemy’s strength. Watching Yang Hao fight so hard to protect the children, even at the cost of his own life, stirred something deep within her.
“Let me handle this!” Maya transformed into a spiritual entity, channeling the Great Sage’s Guidance Technique. In an instant, she managed to slightly divert the Swordmasters’ beams. Though the diversion was minor, it slowed them down just enough. In the heat of battle, even a split second mattered. Seizing this opportunity, the Hao Sword Team swiftly retreated to safety, suffering minimal losses.
“Pathetic!” Wang Mu sneered coldly, unfazed by the failed strike. “None of you will escape. Every last one of you will die.”
Even as he spoke, his hands moved swiftly. His seemingly omnipotent staff rose high into the air as he commanded loudly, “Royal Formation!!”
Royal Formation!!
The name alone was enough to send chills down the spine. Even among the empire’s elite forces, the mere mention of this term was enough to silence all opposition. Countless had tried to defeat it, but very few had ever succeeded.
The Royal Formation was an ancient battle array passed down through the Wang family, its origins tracing back to the legendary sword immortals of antiquity. Few knew its exact lineage, but one thing was certain—once the Wang family mastered this formation, they effortlessly rose to the pinnacle of the Ten Sword Schools, becoming the empire’s backbone.
In essence, the “Royal” Formation was what had elevated the Wang family to greatness. The majority of their power and prestige stemmed from this undefeated array.
Wang Tao had once attempted to teach his swordsmen the Royal Formation. Though they barely scratched the surface, even that incomplete version allowed them to dominate multiple swordsmen teams, earning them a reputation as first-class warriors. While Yang Hao had managed to defeat Wang Tao’s team with a sneak attack using Aurora, that was no reflection on the Royal Formation’s strength—they hadn’t even had a chance to strike back then.
But now, standing before Yang Hao was the Royal Swordmasters. It was worth noting that when the Wang family first obtained this ancient formation, it had no name. It was only through the relentless training and deployment by the Royal Swordmasters that it came to be known as the “Royal” Formation. Thus, this grand array was the Swordmasters’ ultimate trump card.
The “Royal” Formation was designed to combine the power of many, refining it into a collective force dozens of times stronger before unleashing it in a single, earth-shattering strike. The key to its operation lay in the unity of mind among all participants—absolute focus, without the slightest distraction. The earlier flawless synchronization of the Swordmasters’ movements made it clear that these men had fought together so long, they moved as one.
As Wang Mu’s command echoed, the Swordmasters acted like well-oiled machines, swiftly assembling into formation. Within moments, hundreds of Swordmasters formed a dense battle array just a hundred meters from Yang Hao. Some hovered high in the air, others stood shoulder-to-shoulder like stacked statues, while a few crouched low to the ground, their eyes locked onto their targets like hawks.
“We’re doomed!” Hunyuanzi, with his keen senses, was the first to detect the gathering power of their enemies. It was an unimaginable force—one he hadn’t felt since the era of sword immortals over a thousand years ago. Back then, sword immortals would clash with their sects’ most formidable formations, filling the skies with flying swords until the combatants themselves were obscured, leaving only blood raining down and nascent souls extinguished beneath the merciless storm of blades.
It was a rain of death from which there was no escape. Under such a formation, no matter how many stood with Yang Hao, their fate was sealed. Once the “Royal” Formation was unleashed, they would vanish without a trace, reduced to mere wisps of smoke on this planet.
“Run! You’re no match for them!” Hunyuanzi urged frantically. Despite having lived for a millennium, the old ghost had no desire to die. “With your current strength, you can still escape before the formation activates.”
Though Yang Hao’s swordsmanship was lacking, his raw power was formidable, especially his abundant true qi, which already placed him among the ranks of masters. If he truly chose to flee, few could stop him.
But how could Yang Hao ever do that? He had prepared to die here. Besides, the Hao Sword Team was still with him, along with Maya, Kevin, and his Demon Sword Team. Even if he let everyone else escape, he would never abandon them. This was Yang Hao’s life principle, an unshakable line that even Hunyuanzi could never cross.
Thus, in the eyes of Hunyuanzi, Wang Mu, and the Swordmasters, Yang Hao was as good as dead. His ragtag followers stood no chance.
If time could rewind, if Wang Mu and the others were to recall this moment centuries later, they might still believe Yang Hao’s death was inevitable. Even if a Great Luo Golden Immortal descended, no one could have saved Yang Hao.
But time did not rewind. In fact, events didn’t unfold as Wang Mu and the others had anticipated.
Yang Hao didn’t die. He didn’t need a Great Luo Golden Immortal to save him—he saved himself. Though his method was utterly inconceivable, as most of his actions tended to be, it was undeniably effective—so effective that this battle would go down in history as a classic, an indelible mark of Yang Hao’s legacy.
And a lifelong disgrace for the empire and the Wang family.
Just as the Swordmasters completed their formation, poised to unleash the “Royal” Formation, Yang Hao raised something resembling a staff.
Of course, he didn’t actually have a staff. Mimicking Wang Mu’s theatrics, he had picked up a tree branch and was waving it around with gusto. Pointing his “staff” skyward, he declared loudly, “Formation!!”
At his bold command, the Demon Bear Team erupted into chaos. The damned bear-men shoved and jostled each other, stumbling and falling, some even losing their pants in the commotion.
Under normal circumstances, the Royal Swordmasters would have activated their formation and ended the battle right then. But Wang Mu and his Swordmasters were martial fanatics. Hearing that the enemy also had a formation, their curiosity got the better of them. They held back, eager to see what trick Yang Hao was pulling.
Yang Hao’s trick was indeed a mess. Despite having taught the formation to the bear-men, the dim-witted creatures couldn’t execute it properly, devolving into chaos at the critical moment. Watching the enemy’s flawless formation while his own side was in disarray, Yang Hao’s face turned pale with frustration.
“Idiots,” Wang Mu scoffed coldly. “You call this a formation?”
“Why not? It’s my original creation!” Yang Hao retorted stubbornly, even in the face of death. “Let me tell you, once this ‘fart formation’ is set, it’ll be the end of you.”
“Ha!” Wang Mu, ever the arrogant one, wasn’t about to be intimidated by Yang Hao’s bluster. With a wave of his staff, he magnanimously said, “Fine, I’ll let you set it up. Let’s see what tricks you’ve got.”
“Let me handle this!” Maya transformed her entire being into a spiritual form and used the Great Sage Guidance Technique. In an instant, she managed to slightly deflect the incoming sword beams. Though the deflection was small, it did slow the beams down. In a battle like this, even the smallest delay could make a huge difference. Seizing this brief opportunity, the Hao Sword Group rapidly retreated to the rear, suffering minimal losses.
“Hmph! It’s useless!” Wang Mu sneered, seeing his first attack fail. “You’re all going to die. Not one of you will escape.”
As he spoke, his hands moved swiftly. He raised his seemingly omnipotent staff high into the air and commanded loudly, “Formation of the King!!”
Formation of the King!!
This was a name capable of shaking the heavens. Even within the Empire’s elite military forces, the mere mention of this phrase would silence any challenger. Many had sought to defeat it, but few had succeeded.
The Formation of the King was an ancient formation technique from the Wang family. Its origins traced back to the ancient sword immortals, though few truly understood its history. Regardless, after the Wang family adopted it, it easily propelled them to the pinnacle of the Ten Sword Streams and made them a pillar of the Empire.
It could be said that it was the Formation of the King that made the Wang family what it was. The majority of their strength and influence stemmed from this invincible formation.
In the past, Wang Tao had taught his swordsmen the Formation of the King, though they hadn’t even mastered its initial stages. Yet even so, they became the top-tier force, capable of sweeping away multiple sword groups. Although Yang Hao had defeated Wang Tao’s sword group with a sneak attack using the Aurora Blade, that did not mean the Formation of the King had failed—it hadn’t even fired a single sword beam at that time.
Hao had already leaped forward, shielding most of the children from the incoming attacks. He roared anxiously, “Retreat! The Hao Sword Team, fall back to the rear!!!”
His words snapped everyone to attention. Lou Weizhen, though young, possessed remarkable leadership qualities. She immediately led the group in retreating toward the rear. However, the Swordmasters had no intention of letting them escape. Several top-tier Swordmasters unsheathed their blades, and without any visible movement, razor-sharp sword beams shot forth. In an instant, the sky was filled with ghastly white flashes of sword light, resembling demons descending upon the earth. These beams streaked toward the children who hadn’t managed to retreat in time.
In the Galactic Empire, cultivators were always shrouded in mystery—not just because of their supreme status, but also because their cultivation methods were the empire’s most closely guarded secrets.
As Yang Hao had once learned at the Raymond Star Advanced Academy, the Galactic Empire strictly forbade ordinary people from practicing cultivation. Soldiers and even officers were only permitted to study a few basic imperial techniques, never allowed to harness raw energy or true qi within their bodies.
But this didn’t mean the once-flourishing cultivation arts had vanished entirely. Those ancient techniques passed down from the immortals of old had now become the private treasures of certain noble families. Within the empire, only the descendants of these families or those affiliated with the Senate could engage in such secretive practices. Like Yang Hao, these cultivators wielded true qi, each with their own unique methods. It was said that the most formidable among them could wield spells and treasures like true immortals.
The Royal Swordmasters standing before Yang Hao were no ordinary swordsmen. While most swordsmen remained within the bounds of the empire’s basic techniques, Swordmasters had undergone a complete metamorphosis. Each had spent decades in cultivation, mastering post-natal true qi. With their swords in hand, they could unleash sword energy propelled by their qi, making them capable of wielding flying swords—just like Yang Hao.
The streaks of white light were as powerful as flying swords, far beyond what Yang Hao could casually block. As he struggled to fend them off, the beams were on the verge of striking the Hao Sword Team.
Fortunately, there was another person by his side—Maya, the outspoken and brash warrior. Though reckless, Maya had plenty of combat experience. The moment she saw the Royal Swordmasters attack, she fully grasped the enemy’s strength. Watching Yang Hao desperately hold the line, even willing to sacrifice himself to protect the children, stirred something deep within her.
“Leave it to me!” Maya transformed into a spiritual entity, channeling the Great Sage’s Guidance Technique. In an instant, she managed to slightly divert the Swordmasters’ beams. Though the shift was minimal, it slowed them down just enough. In the split-second advantage, the Hao Sword Team swiftly retreated to safety, suffering minimal losses.
“Hmph! Useless!” Wang Mu sneered coldly upon seeing his attack fail. “None of you will escape. Every last one of you will die.”
Even as he spoke, his hands moved swiftly. Raising his seemingly omnipotent staff high into the air, he commanded in a clear voice, “Royal Formation!!”
Royal Formation!!
The name alone was enough to send chills down the spine. Even among the empire’s elite forces, few dared to challenge it. Countless had tried to defeat this formation, but success was rare.
The Royal Formation was an ancient battle array of the Wang Family, its origins tracing back to the sword immortals of antiquity. Though its exact lineage remained obscure, one thing was certain: once the Wang Family mastered it, they effortlessly ascended to the pinnacle of the Ten Sword Schools, becoming a cornerstone of the empire.
In essence, the “Royal” Formation had elevated the Wang Family. Much of their power and prestige stemmed from this invincible array.
Wang Tao had once trained his swordsmen in the Royal Formation. Even incomplete, it allowed them to dominate multiple swordsmen teams, earning them a reputation as first-class warriors. Though Yang Hao had ambushed and defeated Wang Tao’s team with his Aurora Strike, it wasn’t the formation’s failure—they hadn’t even drawn their swords at the time.
Now, standing before Yang Hao was the Royal Swordmaster Corps. Legend had it that when the Wang Family first obtained this ancient formation, it had no name. It was through the relentless training and deployment by the Royal Swordmasters that it earned the title “Royal” Formation. Thus, this array was their ultimate trump card.
The “Royal” Formation pooled the power of many, refining and amplifying it dozens of times before unleashing it in a single, earth-shattering strike. The key to its execution was absolute unity of mind—every participant had to be in perfect sync. Judging by the Swordmasters’ flawless coordination earlier, it was clear they had fought together so long that they moved as one.
As Wang Mu’s command echoed, the Swordmaster Corps acted like a single machine. Within moments, hundreds of Swordmasters formed a dense formation barely a hundred meters from Yang Hao. Some hovered high in the air, others stacked like acrobats, while a few crouched low, their eyes locked onto their targets like hawks.
“We’re doomed!” Hunyuanzi, with his keen senses, was the first to detect the gathering power of their enemies. It was an unimaginable force—one he hadn’t felt since the era of sword immortals a thousand years ago. Back then, sword immortals clashed with their most formidable formations, filling the skies with flying swords until only blood and falling souls remained.
This was a rain of death with no escape. Under such a lethal formation, Yang Hao and his allies stood no chance. Once the “Royal” Formation activated, they would vanish without a trace, reduced to wisps of smoke on this planet.
“Run! You’re no match!” Hunyuanzi urged frantically. Despite his millennia of existence, the old ghost had no desire to die. “At your current strength, you can still escape before the formation activates.”
Though Yang Hao’s swordsmanship was lacking, his raw power—especially his abundant true qi—placed him among the elite. If he chose to flee, few could stop him.
But how could Yang Hao do that? He had prepared to die here. With the Hao Sword Team, Maya, Kevin, and the Demon Sword Team still fighting, he would never abandon them. This was his life’s principle, an unshakable line even Hunyuanzi couldn’t cross.
To Hunyuanzi, Wang Mu, and the Swordmasters, Yang Hao was as good as dead. His ragtag followers stood no chance.
If time could rewind, if Wang Mu and his men were to recall this moment centuries later, they would still believe Yang Hao’s death was inevitable. Even if a Great Luo Golden Immortal descended, none could save him.
But time didn’t rewind. In fact, it didn’t unfold as Wang Mu and the others expected.
Yang Hao didn’t die. He didn’t need a Great Luo Golden Immortal—he saved himself. His method was as unbelievable as ever, yet somehow, it worked. It worked brilliantly. Thus, this battle would become a legend, an indelible mark in history—Yang Hao’s legend.
And the eternal shame of the empire and the Wang Family.
Just as the Swordmasters completed their formation, poised to unleash the “Royal” Formation, Yang Hao raised something resembling a staff.
Of course, he didn’t actually have one. Mimicking Wang Mu’s theatrics, he picked up a tree branch and brandished it dramatically. Pointing his “staff” skyward, he bellowed, “Formation!!”
At his reckless command, the Demon Bear Team erupted into chaos. The damned bear-men shoved and stumbled over each other, some even tripping and losing their pants in the commotion.
Under normal circumstances, the Royal Swordmasters would have activated their formation and ended the battle. But Wang Mu and his Swordmasters were martial fanatics. Hearing that Yang Hao had a formation of his own, curiosity got the better of them. They paused, eager to see what trick he had up his sleeve.
Yang Hao’s trick was indeed chaotic. Despite teaching the formation to the bear-men, the idiots couldn’t execute it properly, collapsing into disarray at the critical moment. Watching his own side in shambles while the enemy stood in perfect order, Yang Hao’s face turned pale with fury.
“Fools,” Wang Mu sneered. “You call this a formation?”
“Why not? It’s my original creation!” Yang Hao, stubborn even in the face of death, retorted, “Let me tell you—once this ‘fart formation’ is set, it’ll be the end of you.”
“Ha!” Wang Mu, ever the arrogant noble, wasn’t intimidated. Amused by Yang Hao’s bravado, he waved his staff magnanimously. “Fine. Take your time. Let’s see what you’ve got.”
The Formation of the King required the combined strength of many individuals. Through unified focus and synchronization, the collective power could amplify dozens of times before being unleashed, capable of shaking heaven and earth. For this formation to function, the most critical factor was absolute unity of intent—everyone’s minds had to be completely aligned. From the earlier perfectly synchronized sword beams, it was clear that these sword masters had long fought together as one.
As Wang Mu shouted his command, the sword masters moved like machines receiving the same order. In front of Yang Hao, within a hundred meters, hundreds of sword masters formed a densely packed formation. Some floated high in the air, others linked limbs like a human tower, while some crouched low to the ground, eyes locked on the target like hawks.
“We’re done for!” Hun Yuanzi, the most perceptive among them, felt the enemy’s gathering power first. It was an unimaginable force—one that even Hun Yuanzi had only felt a thousand years ago, during the age of sword immortals. Back then, sword immortals from different sects unleashed their greatest formations, clashing in the skies. Flying swords danced so thickly that no human forms could be seen, only blood raining down and countless nascent souls being destroyed in the merciless sword storm.
It was a rain of death from which there was no escape, no evasion. In that storm, the only outcome was annihilation—not even a soul could escape with its final hope. Under such a killing formation, no matter how many people Yang Hao had, they would all perish. Once the Formation of the King was unleashed, Yang Hao and his group would vanish into oblivion, becoming nothing more than a wisp of smoke on this planet.
“Run now! You can’t beat this!” Hun Yuanzi was deeply anxious. Though he had lived a thousand years, he had no desire to die. “With your current strength, you can still escape before the formation is unleashed.”
Though Yang Hao’s sword skills were still lacking, his cultivation base was strong. His abundant true qi had already placed him among the elite. If he truly chose to flee, there were few who could catch him.
Yet how could Yang Hao do such a thing? He had already resolved to die here. Moreover, there were still members of the Hao Sword Group, Maya, and Kevin with his Demon Sword Group beside him. Even if everyone else fled, Yang Hao would never leave first. It was his personal code, an unshakable principle that even Hun Yuanzi could never change.
Therefore, from Hun Yuanzi’s perspective, from Wang Mu’s, and from the sword masters’, Yang Hao was as good as dead. His ragtag group of followers had no hope of survival.
If time could rewind, if Wang Mu and his men could look back centuries later, they would still believe Yang Hao was destined to die. It could be said that even if Golden Immortals descended from heaven, no one could save Yang Hao now.
But time did not rewind. Not even in the way Wang Mu and others imagined.
Yang Hao did not die. He didn’t need Golden Immortals to descend—he saved himself. Though the method was utterly unbelievable, his actions had always been unpredictable, yet somehow, incredibly effective. Thus, this battle was destined to become a classic, an unforgettable moment in history—a defining moment for Yang Hao.
And a lifelong humiliation for the Empire and the Wang family.
Just as the sword masters completed their grand formation, ready to unleash their flying swords, the Formation of the King poised to strike, Yang Hao suddenly raised something resembling a staff.
Of course, he didn’t actually have a staff. He simply mimicked Wang Mu’s dramatic gestures and picked up a branch, waving it around with flair. Yang Hao raised his “staff” to the sky and loudly declared, “Formation!!”
At this brazen shout, the Demon Bear Group instantly fell into chaos. The cursed bear warriors pushed and shoved each other, tripping and falling over, some even losing their pants in the scramble.
Hao had already leaped forward, shielding most of the children from the incoming attacks. He roared anxiously, “Retreat! The Hao Sword Team, fall back to the rear!!!”
His shout jolted everyone awake. Lou Weizhen, though young, possessed remarkable leadership skills. She immediately led the group in retreating toward the rear. However, the Swordmasters had no intention of letting them escape. Several elite Swordmasters drew their longswords, and without any visible movement, razor-sharp sword beams shot forth. In an instant, the sky was filled with a blinding array of pale sword lights, like demons descending upon the earth. These deadly beams surged forward, targeting the children who hadn’t retreated in time.
In the Galactic Empire, cultivators were always shrouded in mystery—not just because of their supreme status, but also because their cultivation methods were the empire’s most closely guarded secrets.
As Yang Hao had once learned at the Raymond Star Advanced Academy, the Galactic Empire strictly forbade ordinary people from practicing cultivation. Soldiers and even officers were only permitted to study the empire’s foundational techniques, never allowed to harness internal energy or true qi within their bodies.
But this didn’t mean the once-flourishing cultivation arts had vanished. Those ancient techniques, passed down from the immortals of old, had now become the private treasures of noble families. Within the Galactic Empire, only the descendants of these families or those under the Senate’s jurisdiction could engage in such secretive training. Like Yang Hao, these cultivators wielded true qi, each with their own unique methods. It was said that the most powerful among them could already wield spells and treasures like immortals.
The Royal Swordmasters standing before Yang Hao were no ordinary swordsmen. While most swordsmen remained within the bounds of the empire’s foundational techniques, Swordmasters had undergone a complete transformation. Each had spent decades in cultivation, mastering acquired true qi. With their swords in hand, they could unleash sword energy that could slice through the air. From Yang Hao’s perspective, these men were no different from him—capable of wielding flying swords.
The beams of white light were nearly as powerful as flying swords. How could Yang Hao possibly block them all? As he struggled desperately, the deadly beams were about to strike the Hao Sword Team.
Fortunately, there was someone else by his side—Maya, the outspoken and combative woman. Though reckless and brash, Maya had plenty of real combat experience. The moment she saw the Royal Swordmasters attack, she fully grasped their strength. Watching Yang Hao fight so hard, even willing to sacrifice himself to protect the children, stirred something deep within her.
“Leave it to me!” Maya transformed into a spiritual entity, unleashing the Great Sage’s Guiding Technique. In an instant, she managed to slightly divert the Swordmasters’ beams. Though the diversion was minor, it slowed them down just enough. In the heat of battle, even a split second mattered. Seizing this opportunity, the Hao Sword Team swiftly retreated to safety, suffering minimal losses.
“Useless!” Wang Mu sneered coldly upon seeing his attack fail. “None of you will escape. Every last one of you will die.”
Even as he spoke, his hands moved swiftly. His seemingly omnipotent staff rose high into the air as he commanded loudly, “Royal Formation!!”
**Royal Formation!!**
The name alone was enough to send shivers down the spine. Even among the empire’s elite forces, the mere mention of this term was enough to make anyone hesitate. Countless had tried to defeat it, but very few had ever succeeded.
The Royal Formation was an ancient battle array passed down through the Wang family, originating from the sword immortals of antiquity. Though its exact origins remained obscure, one thing was certain—once the Wang family mastered this formation, they effortlessly rose to the pinnacle of the Ten Sword Schools, becoming the empire’s unshakable pillar.
In truth, it was the Royal Formation that had elevated the Wang family to greatness. Most of their power and prestige stemmed from this undefeated battle array.
Wang Tao had once ordered his swordsmen to study the Royal Formation. Though they hadn’t even mastered the basics, they had already swept through multiple swordsmen teams, earning a reputation as first-class warriors. Though Yang Hao had defeated Wang Tao’s team with a sneak attack using the Aurora, that was no reflection on the Royal Formation—they hadn’t even had a chance to strike back.
But now, standing before Yang Hao was the **Royal Swordmasters**. Legend had it that when the Wang family first obtained this ancient formation, it had no name. It was only through the relentless training and deployment by the Royal Swordmasters that it earned the title “Royal Formation.” Thus, this battle array was their ultimate trump card.
The Royal Formation was designed to combine the power of many, refining and amplifying it dozens of times before unleashing a force capable of shaking heaven and earth. The key to its success lay in absolute unity of mind—every participant had to be completely focused, their thoughts in perfect harmony. Judging by the Swordmasters’ flawless synchronization, it was clear they had fought together for so long that they moved as one.
The moment Wang Mu issued his command, the Swordmasters acted like well-oiled machines. Within seconds, hundreds of Swordmasters formed an intricate battle array just a hundred meters from Yang Hao. Some hovered high in the air, others stood in stacked formations, while a few crouched low to the ground, their eyes locked onto their targets like hawks.
“We’re doomed!” Hunyuanzi, with his keen senses, was the first to feel the terrifying power gathering before them. It was an unimaginable force—one he hadn’t encountered since the era of sword immortals a thousand years ago. Back then, sword immortals would clash with their most formidable formations, filling the skies with flying swords until only blood and death remained.
This was a rain of death—inescapable, unavoidable. Under such a formation, Yang Hao and his allies stood no chance. Once the Royal Formation was unleashed, they would be obliterated, reduced to nothing more than wisps of smoke on this planet.
“Run! You’re no match for this!” Hunyuanzi urged frantically. Despite having lived for a thousand years, the old ghost had no desire to die. “With your current strength, you can still escape before the formation activates.”
Yang Hao’s swordsmanship might be lacking, but his raw power was formidable—especially his abundant true qi, which already placed him among the elite. If he truly wanted to flee, few could stop him.
But how could Yang Hao ever do that? He had already resolved to die here if necessary. Besides, the Hao Sword Team was still here. Maya was still here. Kevin and his Demon Sword Team were still here. Even if he let everyone else escape, Yang Hao would never abandon them. This was his life’s principle—a line even Hunyuanzi could never make him cross.
So, in the eyes of Hunyuanzi, Wang Mu, and the Swordmasters, Yang Hao was as good as dead. His ragtag followers stood no chance either.
If time could rewind—if, centuries later, Wang Mu and his men were to recall this moment—they would still believe Yang Hao’s death was inevitable. Even if a Great Luo Golden Immortal descended, no one could have saved him.
But time did not rewind. In fact, events didn’t unfold as Wang Mu and the others expected at all.
Yang Hao didn’t die. He didn’t need a Great Luo Golden Immortal to save him—he saved himself. Though his method was utterly unbelievable, it was somehow, inexplicably, **effective**. So effective, in fact, that this battle would go down in history as a classic—an indelible moment that would forever be remembered as **Yang Hao’s Legend**.
And the eternal shame of the empire and the Wang family.
Just as the Swordmasters completed their formation, their flying swords poised to strike, Yang Hao raised something resembling a staff.
Of course, he didn’t actually have a staff—he had simply picked up a branch and mimicked Wang Mu’s theatrics, swinging it around with exaggerated flair. Pointing his “staff” skyward, Yang Hao shouted boldly, “Formation!!”
At his reckless command, the Demon Bear Team descended into chaos. The damned bear-men shoved and stumbled over each other, some even falling flat on their faces, their pants dropping in the process.
Under normal circumstances, the Royal Swordmasters would have unleashed their formation and ended the battle right then. But Wang Mu and his Swordmasters were martial fanatics. Hearing that the enemy also had a formation, their curiosity got the better of them. They paused, eager to see what trick Yang Hao had up his sleeve.
And what a trick it was—a complete mess. Despite having taught the formation to the bear-men, those idiots had utterly failed to grasp it. At this critical moment, they were in total disarray. Watching his own side in chaos while the enemy stood in perfect order, Yang Hao’s face turned pale with frustration.
“Fools,” Wang Mu scoffed. “You call this a formation?”
“Of course it is! It’s an original creation!” Yang Hao retorted stubbornly. “Let me tell you—once this formation is complete, it’ll be the death of you!”
“Ha!” Wang Mu, ever the arrogant noble, wasn’t the least bit intimidated. Amused by Yang Hao’s bravado, he waved his staff magnanimously. “Fine. I’ll let you finish. Let’s see what tricks you’ve got.”
What Yang Hao was doing was indeed strange—but it was a chaotic kind of strange. He had clearly taught the formation techniques to those idiotic bears, yet these fools couldn’t manage even the basics. At this critical moment, they were in complete disarray. Watching the enemy’s orderly formation while his own side descended into chaos, Yang Hao was so furious his face turned pale.
“Fools,” Wang Mu sneered coldly. “You call that a formation?”
“Why not? This is my original creation!” Yang Hao, defiant to the end, retorted, “Let me tell you, this fart formation of mine isn’t just for show. Once it’s fully set up, it’ll take your lives!”
“Hah!” Wang Mu, proud as ever, was not the least bit intimidated. Seeing Yang Hao’s bold claims, he waved his staff magnanimously, “Fine. I’ll let you finish setting it up. Let’s see what tricks you’ve got.”
Tai Sui Yellow Amulet Paper FuLu Taoist Love Talisman Traditional Chinese Spiritual Charm Attracting Love Protecting Marriage