Wang Tao’s face was gloomy. With a wave of his hand, his ancestral treasured sword flew back into his palm. However, this action didn’t alarm Yang Hao too much, because although Wang Tao was a formidable fighter, he still fell short of being able to pierce through Yang Hao’s Ice-Skin Iron-Ointment.
Yang Hao glanced left and right and noticed that Shi Ming’ai was still continuously wrapping threads around herself. This woman was getting stranger by the minute. Irritated, Yang Hao shouted at the royal guards, “Hey, you guys, do you even have brains? In a situation like this, why don’t you hurry up and make a net to capture him already?”
Hearing this, Wang Tao was genuinely startled, “Yang Hao! Didn’t we agree to a fair duel? Why are you calling for help now?”
Wang Tao’s face was dark and gloomy. With a wave of his hand, the ancestral sword returned to his palm. However, this action didn’t cause Yang Hao much concern, because although Wang Tao was highly skilled in combat, he was still far from being able to penetrate the Ice-Skin Iron Balm.
Yang Hao glanced around and noticed that Shi Ming’ai was still wrapping coils around him. This woman was becoming increasingly bizarre. Impatiently, he shouted at the royal guards, “Hey, you guys, do you even have brains? In a situation like this, why don’t you hurry up and get a net to capture him?”
Hearing this, Wang Tao was startled. “Yang Hao! Didn’t we agree to a fair duel? Why are you calling for help?”
“I’m cheating, what’s it to you?” Yang Hao’s face had become as thick as Hunyuanzi’s. “Besides, you never agreed to anything. Empress Ming was taken back by me, not returned by you.”
Although the royal guards were rather dim-witted, they had the clever Empress Ming among them. Before Yang Hao could give further orders, a dozen burly men had already hauled over a massive object—the pressure cooker that General Long had used to fire the dragon cannon. Though the lid had blown off, the base remained intact. If flipped over, it could easily trap Wang Tao inside, rendering escape impossible no matter how powerful he was.
“What are you trying to do?!” Wang Tao stared at the blackened base of the pot, his imagination failing to foresee his tragic fate.
“Pressure cooker imprisonment,” Yang Hao said with a grin. “Never heard of it, huh? It’s one of General Long’s family’s secret techniques. Once deployed, it’s so effective that people adore it, cars carry it, ghosts wail, and spirits vanish.”
“I’m the leader of the Empire’s Swordsmen Corps! How dare you treat me like this? Are you rebelling?” Wang Tao was growing frantic. This dandy nobleman, always impeccably dressed, couldn’t bear the thought of that grimy thing being placed over his head.
“Give it up. What Swordsmen Corps leader? Once you’re turned into braised pork knuckle, I doubt anyone will tell the difference.” Though weak-limbed, Yang Hao had no trouble with sarcasm.
Clenching his teeth, Wang Tao tightened his grip on the ancestral sword and pointed it at Yang Hao from a distance. “Fine! Since you’re forcing my hand, don’t blame me for going all out!”
“What, gonna kill me with a stare?” Yang Hao wasn’t intimidated. “Don’t forget, both of us are invulnerable to blades. Save your energy.”
“Invulnerable? I doubt it. Nothing in this world is truly impervious to attack.”
Yang Hao nodded. “True. Just like how any attack above Level 8 can pierce your thermal-nuclear shield, my Ice-Skin Iron Balm isn’t invincible either. But only flying swords can penetrate it. You know what flying swords are, right? Not just waving a sword around—I’m talking about ancient flying swords, the kind used by sword immortals.”
Yang Hao himself could wield flying swords, though his power was still far from sufficient. Of course, he wouldn’t tell Wang Tao this, as practicing techniques beyond the Empire’s legal limits was a serious crime. If anyone found out he was training in flying swords, he’d likely become a wanted fugitive.
Yang Hao was utterly confident because, according to Hunyuanzi, the entire Galactic Empire was now steeped in basic imperial techniques, with no one left practicing immortal cultivation. Thus, he had no fear of anyone wielding a flying sword.
But in his complacency, Yang Hao forgot one thing: Hunyuanzi was notoriously unreliable. Suffering from dementia, laziness, and confusion, his judgments were wrong more often than right.
This time was no exception. Watching Yang Hao’s smug expression, Wang Tao finally saw the dawn of revenge. A domineering power surged within him as he took a deep breath and declared, “Divine Dragon Mirage Sword!”
Divine Dragon Mirage Sword!
To almost everyone present—perhaps everyone—these four words were utterly unremarkable. But Yang Hao distinctly felt Hunyuanzi trembling violently inside him. Having spent so much time together, Yang Hao knew the old man inside out. Yet he had never seen Hunyuanzi so terrified, shaking like a rat in a sewer, as if those four words were four massive blocks of ice freezing him solid.
Straining to hear, Yang Hao barely caught Hunyuanzi’s fearful whisper. Filled with questions, he asked Wang Tao, “Do people still use the Divine Dragon Mirage Sword? Those who knew it died millennia ago!”
Wang Tao seemed surprised Yang Hao recognized the technique. “The creator of the Divine Dragon Mirage Sword isn’t dead. For an immortal, what’s a few thousand years? His swordsmanship will never fade.”
“He’s not dead! He’s not dead!!” Hunyuanzi trembled like a sieve. “Thousands of years…”
“Your enemy?” Yang Hao muttered through clenched teeth.
“It’s him, that bastard! My mortal foe. He’s lived for millennia without dying.” Hunyuanzi wept bitterly—odd, considering he lacked a physical body. Where did ghosts even store their tear ducts? Truly bizarre creatures.
“Well, if he’s not dead, that’s good,” Yang Hao said, oblivious to the severity. “We can take revenge. The two of us will team up and slaughter our way through, making him regret not finishing you off properly back then.”
“Revenge? Don’t kid yourself!” Hunyuanzi was utterly despondent. “We’re doomed. Do you understand? We’re dead.”
“Dead?” Yang Hao frowned.
Perhaps he spoke too loudly, because Wang Tao overheard. Smirking, Wang Tao’s aura grew even more overwhelming. “So you’ve realized you’re doomed? The Divine Dragon Mirage Sword leaves no survivors. Pity you’ve never read the Elder Council’s archives—you’d know its glorious history. No matter. You’ll soon join its countless victims. Consider it an honor.”
“Honor my ass!” Yang Hao snapped back.
“He’s right,” Hunyuanzi unexpectedly sided with Wang Tao. “The Divine Dragon Mirage Sword is the most formidable flying sword technique in existence. Nothing in this universe can oppose it. Our Alchemy and Sword Dual Cultivation Sect once stood at the pinnacle, but against this sword, we couldn’t even flee. That strike… it defies comprehension.”
Wang Tao’s face was dark and gloomy. With a wave of his hand, the ancestral sword returned to his palm. However, this action didn’t cause Yang Hao much concern, because although Wang Tao was highly skilled in combat, he was still far from being able to penetrate the Ice-Skin Iron Balm.
Yang Hao glanced around and noticed Shi Ming’ai was still wrapping coils around herself. This woman was becoming more and more bizarre. Impatiently, he shouted at the royal guards, “Hey, you idiots! Do you even have brains? At a time like this, why aren’t you quickly setting up a net to capture him?”
Wang Tao was startled by these words. “Yang Hao! Didn’t we agree to a fair duel? Why are you calling for help?”
“I’m cheating, so what?” Yang Hao’s face had become as thick as Hunyuanzi’s. “Besides, you never agreed to anything. I took Empress Ming back myself—it wasn’t you who returned her to me.”
Though the royal guards were mostly dim-witted, they had the clever Empress Ming among them. Before Yang Hao could give further orders, a dozen burly men had already hauled over a massive object—the pressure cooker that General Long had used to fire his dragon cannon. Though the lid had blown off, the base remained intact. If flipped over, it could easily trap Wang Tao inside, making escape impossible no matter how strong he was.
“What are you trying to do?!” Wang Tao stared at the blackened pot base, his imagination failing to foresee his tragic fate.
“Pressure cooker imprisonment,” Yang Hao said with a grin. “Never heard of it, huh? It’s one of General Long’s family’s secret techniques. Once unleashed, it’s so effective that people adore it, cars carry it, ghosts wail, and wolves howl.”
“I’m the leader of the Empire’s Swordsmen Corps! How dare you treat me like this? Are you rebelling?” Wang Tao was growing frantic. This dandy nobleman, always impeccably dressed, couldn’t bear the thought of that grimy thing being shoved over his head.
“Give it up. Once you’re turned into braised pork knuckles, what difference will your title make?” Though weak-limbed, Yang Hao had no trouble with sarcasm.
Wang Tao clenched his teeth, gripping his ancestral sword tightly as he pointed it at Yang Hao from a distance. “Fine! Since you’re forcing my hand, don’t blame me for going all out!”
“What, gonna kill me with a glare?” Yang Hao wasn’t the least bit afraid. “Don’t forget, both of us are invulnerable to blades. Save your energy.”
“Invulnerable? I doubt it. Nothing in this world is truly impervious to attack.”
Yang Hao nodded. “True. Just like how anything above eighth-level combat power can pierce your thermal-nuclear shield, my Ice-Skin Iron Balm isn’t invincible either. But as far as I know, only flying swords can break through it. You know what a flying sword is, right? Not just waving a sword around—I’m talking about the ancient flying swords used by sword immortals.”
Yang Hao himself could wield a flying sword, though his skill was far from sufficient. He certainly wouldn’t tell Wang Tao that, because in the Empire, any cultivation beyond the legally permitted limits was a serious crime. If people found out he was practicing flying swords, he’d likely become a wanted fugitive.
Yang Hao was utterly confident because, according to Hunyuanzi, the entire Galactic Empire was now steeped in basic imperial techniques, with no one left practicing immortal cultivation. Thus, there was no fear of anyone wielding a flying sword.
But in his complacency, Yang Hao forgot one thing—Hunyuanzi was rarely reliable. The old man suffered from dementia, laziness, and confusion, and his judgments were wrong more often than right.
This time was no exception. Watching Yang Hao’s smug expression, Wang Tao finally saw his chance for revenge. A domineering force surged within him as he took a deep breath and declared, “Divine Dragon Mirage Sword!”
Divine Dragon Mirage Sword!
To almost everyone present—perhaps everyone—these four words meant nothing. But Yang Hao immediately sensed Hunyuanzi trembling violently inside him. Having spent so much time with the old man, Yang Hao knew him inside out. Yet he had never seen Hunyuanzi so terrified, shaking like a rat in a sewer, as if those four words were blocks of ice freezing him solid.
Straining to hear, Yang Hao barely caught Hunyuanzi’s fearful whisper. With deep suspicion, he asked Wang Tao, “Do people still use the Divine Dragon Mirage Sword? Those who knew it died millennia ago!”
Wang Tao seemed surprised Yang Hao recognized the technique. “The creator of the Divine Dragon Mirage Sword isn’t dead. For an immortal, what’s a few thousand years? His swordsmanship will never fade.”
“He’s not dead! He’s not dead!!” Hunyuanzi trembled like a sieve. “Thousands of years… and he’s still alive.”
“Your enemy?” Yang Hao muttered through clenched teeth.
“It’s him! That bastard! My mortal foe! He’s lived for millennia without dying!” Hunyuanzi wept bitterly—strange, since a ghost without a physical body shouldn’t have tear ducts. Ghosts truly were bizarre creatures.
“Good that he’s alive,” Yang Hao said, oblivious to the gravity. “We can take revenge. The two of us will slaughter our way through and show him what a mistake he made by not finishing you off back then.”
“Revenge? Ha!” Hunyuanzi was more despondent than ever. “We’re doomed. Do you understand? We’re both dead.”
“Dead?” Yang Hao frowned.
Perhaps he spoke too loudly, because Wang Tao overheard. Smirking, Wang Tao’s aura grew even more oppressive. “So you’ve realized you’re doomed? The Divine Dragon Mirage Sword leaves no survivors. Pity you’ve never read the Elder Council’s records—you’d know its glorious history. No matter. You’ll soon join its countless victims. Consider it an honor.”
“Honor my ass!” Yang Hao snapped back.
“He’s right,” Hunyuanzi unexpectedly agreed. “The Divine Dragon Mirage Sword is the most formidable flying sword technique in existence. Nothing in this universe can stand against it. Our Alchemy-Sword Dual Cultivation Sect once dominated an era, but when faced with this sword, we couldn’t even escape. That strike… that strike was unimaginably powerful.”
“What do you think you’re doing?!” Wang Tao stared at the dark, looming pot, unable to imagine the tragic fate about to befall him.
“A pressure cooker,” Yang Hao grinned cheerfully. “Never heard of it before, huh? It’s a secret technique passed down in General Long’s family. This move is rarely used, but when it is, it’s beloved by all—unpredictable as gods and ghosts wailing and crying.”
“I am the captain of the Imperial Swordsmen Corps! How dare you treat me like this? Are you planning a rebellion?!” Wang Tao was furious. This clean-cut nobleman, always impeccably dressed, could hardly bear the thought of having such a filthy object placed over his head.
“Spare me the drama. Captain of the Swordsmen? Once you’re braised like a pig’s trotter, what difference will it make?” Yang Hao, though physically weak, was a master of witty banter.
Wang Tao gritted his teeth. Clutching his ancestral sword tightly, he pointed it directly at Yang Hao, “If that’s how it is, you’ve forced my hand. Don’t blame me for using lethal force!”
“What, are you going to kill me with a stare?” Yang Hao wasn’t the least bit afraid. “Don’t forget—we’re both impervious to blades and bullets. I suggest you save your energy.”
“Impervious to blades and bullets? I doubt that. There’s no defense in this world that’s truly unbreakable.”
Yang Hao nodded, “You’re right. Just like how an opponent above Level Eight can pierce through your nuclear shield, my Ice-Skin Iron-Ointment isn’t invincible either. But from what I know, only a flying sword can penetrate it. Ever heard of a flying sword? I’m not talking about just tossing your sword around—it’s the ancient kind, used by sword immortals.”
Of course, Yang Hao himself could use a flying sword too, though his power was still far from sufficient. He certainly wouldn’t reveal that to Wang Tao, because in the Empire, any cultivation beyond what was legally permitted was a capital offense. If anyone discovered he was secretly training in flying swords, he’d likely become a wanted fugitive.
Yang Hao was confident, because according to Hunyuanzi, the entire Galactic Empire was filled with only basic imperial techniques. No one practiced true cultivation anymore, so there was no need to fear anyone wielding a flying sword.
However, in his confidence, Yang Hao had forgotten one thing—Hunyuanzi was usually anything but reliable. Suffering from senility, lazy, and often mistaken more than he was right, his judgment was far from trustworthy.
Wang Tao’s face was dark and gloomy. With a wave of his hand, the ancestral sword returned to his palm. However, this action didn’t cause Yang Hao much concern, because although Wang Tao was highly skilled in combat, he was still far from being able to penetrate the Ice-Skin Iron Balm.
Yang Hao glanced around and noticed that Shi Ming’ai was still wrapping coils around him. This woman was becoming stranger by the minute. Impatiently, he shouted at the royal guards, “Hey, you idiots! Do you even have brains? At a time like this, shouldn’t you hurry up and get a net to capture him?”
Wang Tao was startled by these words. “Yang Hao! Didn’t we agree to a fair duel? Why are you calling for help?”
“I’m cheating, so what?” Yang Hao’s face had thickened to match Hunyuanzi’s. “Besides, you never agreed to anything. I took Empress Ming back myself—it wasn’t you who returned her to me.”
Though the royal guards were generally dim-witted, they had the clever Empress Ming among them. Before Yang Hao could give further orders, a dozen burly men had already hauled over a massive object—the pressure cooker that General Long had used to fire his dragon cannon. Though the lid had blown off, the base remained intact. If flipped over, it could easily trap Wang Tao inside, making escape impossible no matter how strong he was.
“What are you trying to do?!” Wang Tao stared at the blackened bottom of the pot, his imagination failing to foresee his tragic fate.
“Pressure cooker imprisonment,” Yang Hao said with a grin. “Never heard of it, huh? It’s General Long’s family’s secret technique. Once unleashed, it’s so devastating that even ghosts wail and gods flee.”
“I’m the leader of the Empire’s Swordsmen Corps! How dare you treat me like this? Are you rebelling?” Wang Tao was nearly hysterical. This dandy nobleman, always impeccably dressed, couldn’t bear the thought of that grimy thing being shoved over his head.
“Give it up. Once you’re turned into braised pork knuckle, what difference will being a Swordsmen Corps leader make?” Though weak-limbed, Yang Hao had no trouble taunting him.
Clenching his teeth, Wang Tao tightened his grip on his ancestral sword and pointed it at Yang Hao. “Fine! Since you’re forcing my hand, don’t blame me for going all out!”
“What, gonna kill me with a glare?” Yang Hao wasn’t intimidated. “Don’t forget, both of us are invulnerable to blades. Save your energy.”
“Invulnerable? I doubt it. Nothing in this world is truly impervious to attack.”
Yang Hao nodded. “You’re right. Just like how an attack beyond Level 8 can pierce your thermal-nuclear shield, my Ice-Skin Iron Balm isn’t invincible either. But only a flying sword can break through it. You know what a flying sword is, right? Not just waving a sword around—I mean the ancient kind, the ones used by sword immortals.”
Yang Hao himself could wield a flying sword, though his power was still far from sufficient. Of course, he wouldn’t tell Wang Tao that—practicing forbidden techniques beyond the Empire’s laws was a serious crime. If anyone found out he was training in flying swords, he’d likely become a wanted fugitive.
Yang Hao was utterly confident because, according to Hunyuanzi, the entire Galactic Empire was now dominated by basic imperial techniques. No one practiced immortal cultivation anymore, so there was no fear of anyone wielding a flying sword.
But in his complacency, Yang Hao forgot one thing—Hunyuanzi was notoriously unreliable. Suffering from dementia, laziness, and confusion, his judgments were wrong more often than not.
This time was no exception.
Seeing Yang Hao’s smug expression, Wang Tao finally saw his chance for revenge. A domineering aura surged around him as he took a deep breath and declared, “Divine Dragon Mirage Sword!”
**Divine Dragon Mirage Sword!**
To almost everyone present, these four words meant nothing. But Yang Hao immediately sensed Hunyuanzi trembling violently within him. Having spent so much time together, Yang Hao knew the old man inside out—yet he had never seen him this terrified. Hunyuanzi shook like a rat in a sewer, as if those four words were blocks of ice freezing him solid.
Straining to hear, Yang Hao barely caught Hunyuanzi’s fearful whisper. With deep suspicion, he asked Wang Tao, “Does anyone still know the Divine Dragon Mirage Sword? Its practitioners died out millennia ago!”
Wang Tao seemed surprised Yang Hao recognized the technique. “The creator of the Divine Dragon Mirage Sword isn’t dead. For an immortal, what’s a few thousand years? His swordsmanship will never fade.”
“He’s not dead! He’s not dead!!” Hunyuanzi trembled like a sieve. “Thousands of years… and he’s still alive.”
“Your enemy?” Yang Hao muttered through clenched teeth.
“It’s him! That bastard! My mortal foe!” Hunyuanzi wailed. “He actually lived for millennia without dying.” It was bizarre—how could a disembodied spirit even produce tears? Ghosts truly were unpredictable creatures.
“Well, if he’s alive, that’s good,” Yang Hao said, oblivious to the severity. “We can take revenge. The two of us will slaughter our way through and show him what a mistake he made by not finishing you off back then.”
“Revenge?!” Hunyuanzi was utterly despondent. “We’re doomed. Do you understand? We’re both dead.”
“Dead?” Yang Hao frowned.
Perhaps he spoke too loudly, because Wang Tao overheard. Smiling faintly, the energy around him grew even more oppressive. “So you’ve realized you’re doomed? The Divine Dragon Mirage Sword leaves no survivors. Pity you’ve never read the Elder Council’s records—you’d know its glorious history. No matter. You’ll soon join its countless victims. Consider it an honor.”
“Honor my ass!” Yang Hao snapped.
“But he’s right,” Hunyuanzi unexpectedly sided with Wang Tao. “The Divine Dragon Mirage Sword is the most formidable flying sword technique in existence. Nothing in this universe can oppose it. Our Alchemy-Sword Dual Cultivation Sect once dominated the world, but when the Divine Dragon Mirage Sword appeared, we couldn’t even escape. That sword… its power is beyond comprehension.”
Divine Dragon Strange Sword!
To most, if not all, of those present, these four words were nothing more than an ordinary phrase. But Yang Hao could distinctly feel Hunyuanzi trembling within his body. Having spent so much time with Hunyuanzi, Yang Hao knew the old man inside and out. Yet he had never seen Hunyuanzi so terrified—like a rat hiding in a sewer, shivering uncontrollably. It was as if those four words had struck him like four massive blocks of ice, freezing him solid.
It took great effort for Yang Hao to barely make out Hunyuanzi’s fearful whisper. Filled with confusion, Yang Hao asked Wang Tao, “Is there still someone who uses the Divine Dragon Strange Sword? Everyone who knew that sword style died thousands of years ago!”
Wang Tao seemed equally surprised that Yang Hao even knew of the technique, “If the creator of the Divine Dragon Strange Sword hasn’t died, what is a few thousand years to a god? His sword style will never vanish.”
“He’s not dead! He’s not dead!!” Hunyuanzi trembled like a sieve. “He’s still alive after all these millennia.”
“Is he your enemy?” Yang Hao moved only his nose, whispering silently, “Is that the guy?”
“That’s him! That bastard! My greatest enemy, and he’s lived for thousands of years without dying!” Hunyuanzi wept bitterly. It was strange indeed—how could a disembodied spirit even produce tears? Ghosts were truly unpredictable creatures.
“Well, at least he’s still alive,” Yang Hao hadn’t yet grasped the gravity of the situation. “We can get revenge someday. We’ll team up and go on a rampage, showing him what a mistake it was not finishing you off thousands of years ago.”
“Revenge this! We’re dead meat,” Hunyuanzi had never sounded so defeated. “Do you even realize what we’re up against? We’re both finished.”
“Finished?” Yang Hao frowned.
His words might have been too loud, because Wang Tao on the other side heard them clearly. He smiled slightly, and the power brewing within him surged even more violently, “You finally realize you’re doomed, huh? Under the Divine Dragon Strange Sword, there’s no chance for you. Pity you’ve never seen the Senate’s ancient records—you don’t know how glorious this sword style has been throughout history. No matter. You’ll just become another soul claimed by this sword. Consider it an honor.”
“Honor this!” Yang Hao shot back angrily.
But this time, Hunyuanzi actually sided with the enemy, “He’s right. The Divine Dragon Strange Sword is the most powerful flying sword technique in the world. There’s nothing in the universe that can rival it. Our Dan-Ding Dual Cultivation Sect once dominated the world, but when the Divine Dragon Strange Sword appeared, we didn’t even have a chance to escape. That sword… that sword was unimaginably powerful.
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