I Am Loaded With Passive Skills

Chapter 3767: Chapter 1822: Invincible

The snow in Fusang is very light, falling far slower than on the side of Yu Lingdi.

The spectators around the tavern were expecting a blazing holy battle.

Unexpectedly, the Four Saints led by Cheng Caizhi, after a few howls, suddenly stalled in mid-air.

Those unaware thought they suddenly lost their will to fight.

The more perceptive ones immediately turned their gaze to Bazhun’an, noticing that at some point he had placed a sack on the ground, and his hands were tucked into his sleeves.

"Everyone, count tens for me, will you?" He suddenly turned his head, looked at the spectators outside the arena, and smiled widely.

"Bazhun’an, has already drawn his sword..."

Someone watching him felt a chill of fear in their heart.

Undoubtedly, the first to fall under this "Eighth Sword Deity’s" Fantasy Sword Technique was the Four Saints.

Whether this person’s identity is genuine remains debatable.

However, the fact that his first silent strike was able to control the Four Saints is somewhat unbelievably divine.

"At the very least, it must be someone at the level of the elder Sword Deity to achieve such a feat, right?"

While pondering this, the people outside began working out the purpose of the sack Bazhun’an was carrying, and the curious ones started helping by counting:

"Ten!"

Though they didn’t know his intention, the feeling was that he couldn’t really be planning to take on the Four Saints alone and cut them down entirely, right?

"Nine!"

The first voice appeared, and then others chimed in.

"Eight!"

Soon, the enthusiasm of the spectators was stirred, and voices emerged one after the other.

"Seven..."

The crowd counted quickly.

The speed at which the snow in Fusang fell seemed to accelerate with it.

When they counted to "five," Bazhun’an took a step forward, and sword intent shot from his eyes.

With a thunderous roar, it was as if there was a blast of thunder in everyone’s ears, and in a daze, they saw an expanse of wilderness where the Ten High Nobles gathered in one place.

"This is..."

Dan Saint Lu Shiyu’s pupils shook.

Yin Ghost Sect’s Li You also glared with her eyes wide open.

In the scene, numerous "evil ghosts" encircle, and the Eighth Sword Deity, clad in white, stepped forward as well, but standing face to face was...

"Saint Cheng? Cheng Caizhi?"

"No, it’s Dai Xiu, demi-saint Dai Xiu!"

"I saw Fairy Luo, no, it’s Half-Saint Green Ghost?"

The figures before them, four metamorphoses in all, each trembled like a sieve, as if bearing unspeakable horrific pressure.

And that pressure was clearly coming from...

"Snow?"

Someone raised their gaze to the sky.

People in Fusang, intention in the wilderness.

The sky fills with snowflakes falling, accompanied by a song of high-pitched chants, weighing people down till they could hardly breathe:

"August beseeches the flying snow, in vain but nothing."

"Dreams drunken on flowers in the moon, can pear branches be easily broken."

The sound ceased.

Snow fell as if it were scattered, whispering down.

In and out of the city, the earth vibrated with a hum.

Bazhun’an raised both sleeves, and dual needles flew out from within them, at that moment the sword’s humming sound stirred, and pear trees of several meters tall rose in all directions, like illusions and not phantoms, growing dense like a forest, breathtakingly beautiful.

"Three!"

The spectators’ passion for reverse counting was pushed to a climax.

When entering the final moment, the snow heavily weighed on the pear branches, thousands of trees blossomed like flowers, and the sleeve sword twin needles swept across the realm, slicing through the long sky, stirring up a flurry of white.

"Crack!"

The first pear branch snapped under the heavy snow.

This triggered a domino effect, with the dual needles leading, the entire city’s pear garden, and mountains of pear trees, cracking and popping.

The sounds of breaking branches rose and fell, as if ten thousand swords broke free from restraints, each snowflake burst forth sparkling sword energy, resonating into the sky.

"Ah——"

Among the Four Saints, the first to falter was the Half-Saint Green Ghost from the Southern Region.

Though he was standing in mid-air over Fusang, behind the Three Saints, he had yet to encounter anything.

Even though he was just under the guard of the Ten High Nobles in the wild mountains, the sleeve sword dual needles merely stirred up flying snow, seemingly not targeting him.

Yet Half-Saint Green Ghost seemed to have encountered some great terror, his eyes burst with bloody tears, his face interlaced with green and white, fully lined with ferocity.

"No! Don’t!"

"Mother, mother... don’t kill, no——"

"Alan, no, no——"

He extended his hand, as if to grasp something, but he only left a face full of terror and helplessness.

He raved like a madman, holy power surged, bombing the city of Fusang, leaving it in complete ruin.

But there was no fixed target of attack, it was all aimless venting.

He tried to regain something.

After a bout of venting, in the predetermined past, he could do nothing.

"One..."

The counting voice gradually became very low, very weak.

The spectators watched in horror, what had Half-Saint Green Ghost encountered that even a dignified demi-saint couldn’t withstand and turned into this sight?

"His childhood?" Tie Dameng hesitated, looking at Dan Saint Lu Shiyu, the latter shook his head silently.

Instead, it was Array Saint Shangfeng Taoist who spoke: "In the Southern Region, those who can cultivate to Half-Saint have invariably experienced hardship, the ’Heart Test’ is the hardest one to endure... I remember, Green Ghost had a rough childhood, youth too, and even after adulthood; it was not until the age of forty-two that he had an insight, starting from Master and blazed a trail, finally achieving sanctification..."

Tie Dameng anxiously stared at the "Eighth Sword Deity," with uncertainty, "This is heart punishment..."

Everyone has pasts they can’t bear to recall.

In his hands, with the all-feared Ten High Nobles as suppression for the contemporary saints, and magnifying their inner fears, stirring unspeakable pasts.

Every snowflake stirred by the sleeve sword dual needles should represent Half-Saint Green Ghost’s most painful past.

And now, he’s reliving it all again!

"What a terrifying Ten Thousand Sword Technique..."

Gu Qingsan also practiced the Ten Thousand Sword Technique, and he never tried combining Ten Thousand Sword Technique with Fantasy Sword Technique and Heart Sword Technique in this way.

What is the true origin of this Bazhun’an?

The realms merge seamlessly like the antelope’s horn, if the real Eighth Sword Deity were here, it would be no different, right?

...

The snow falls with a sound.

That’s the sound of pear trees cracking.