I Am Loaded With Passive Skills

Chapter 3809: Chapter 1838: Worship_2

Array Saint Shangfeng Taoist promptly stopped this charging commander.

In fact, there were not many who dared to charge in the City of Living Pagodas. Tie Dameng dared to charge, as he was the only one truly brave enough to do so.

Lu Shi Yu followed with a sigh, then took out the pure and flawless Life Sword, saying softly:

"The Life Sword can be lent."

Tie Dameng abruptly turned back to glare at him, eyes filled with fierceness.

Just a few words, and the Life Sword would be lent; how is this different from admitting defeat?

With such a disgraceful reputation, how could the City of Living Pagodas still have a place in the five regions in the future?

Lu Shi Yu, however, shifted his tone, fixing his gaze on the fake Bazhun’an, with cold eyes:

"But the one who receives the Life Sword must be a renowned and open-minded ancient swordsman, not some skulking and strange rat."

"If, without clarity and fairness, my Life Sword is to be lent and cannot be retrieved afterward, even if I, Lu Shi, wished to consent today, the entire City of Living Pagodas would certainly not allow it."

"Instead, let us fight to the death!"

This statement, expressed firmly and unyieldingly, also declared the City of Living Pagodas’ determination and courage, returning the difficult decision to the fake Bazhun’an.

Even Li You, an Outer Saint, looked at Lu Shi Yu with newfound respect, for she was precisely one who had her famed sword borrowed unfairly.

The crowd in the tavern immediately turned their eyes to the sack-covered Bazhun’an.

At this moment, aside from Lu Shi Yu, anyone could tell this guy was an impostor.

But the fake still had such strength, indicating he wasn’t just some nobody.

To achieve a bloodless suppression and dominate the City of Living Pagodas, a place of great favor among the five regions’ experts, it seemed he still needed one final step.

And whether this step could subdue Lu Shi Yu depended entirely on his boldness.

"Hahaha!"

Under the gaze of all, the sack-covered Bazhun’an laughed aloud: "The City of Living Pagodas, indeed not cowards! Indeed, I am not Bazhun’an..."

After speaking, he straightened his smile, then tore off his face mask with a backhand, revealing a younger and more elegant face.

His features were right, full of spirit, with all sharpness gone, refined and gentle - he even looked somewhat familiar?

"He is..."

After a pause, someone in the surroundings recognized this face, exclaiming: "Laughing Kongtong?"

"Fringe Moon Immortal City, Laughing Kongtong, greetings to all."

Revealing his true self, Laughing Kongtong saluted most of the demi-saints before him, treating them respectfully as a junior should.

But respect should be treated as respect. Upon recognizing this face, everyone was astonished.

"Two generations of Sword Immortals, Qiu Wu Qi and Xu Xiao Liu, to Gu Beixi, he is truly the Seventh Sword Immortal, second only to Lord Shou, the Laughing Kongtong!"

"Rumor has it the second-in-command saint servant Bazhun’an had a disciple who inherited all his swordsmanship, especially the Fantasy Sword Technique, no wonder he did nothing, and Dai Xiu, Luo Hui, and other Holy Impact Wind all fell, this is the Illusion Sword Immortal!"

"The great God of Killing in Fringe Moon Immortal City. Six months ago, he defended half of the East Moon Realm single-handedly, causing rivers of blood. It’s said even the Sword Deity Bei with the Supreme Emperor Sword tried to subjugate Fringe Moon Immortal City, but failed in the end and returned empty-handed!"

"..."

The tavern surroundings erupted into fervent discussion.

Laughing Kongtong finished his bow, looked up, his mouth curving into an unstoppable smile.

He wore his teacher’s face his whole life, borrowing swords outside.

Only in Fringe Moon Immortal City could he return to himself and slowly refine his sword skills.

If not for being chosen as a Sword Immortal, in reality, those who knew him were just the East Moon Realm, at most a small part of the Eastern Region, and only knew his name, not his face.

Before him was the Eighth Sword Immortal, after him the Number One Sword Immortal.

Stuck in an era between them, Laughing Kongtong felt more pained than Wen Ting, overshadowed and retreating into the shadows.

A dream like Lord Shou’s of holding a sword high on the Dao Imparting Mirror, never defeated, was a dream not only of Laughing Kongtong but of ninety-nine percent of the ancient swordsmen today.

But Lord Shou had his glory, and the pressure of being the second-in-command saint servant.

Laughing Kongtong knew his duty, where his seat was; he enjoyed but a moment, then gathered his thoughts, returned to calm, and looked towards Lu Shi Yu:

"Senior Lu, what is your consideration?"

Lu Shi Yu knew trouble was afoot upon seeing this face.

He was betting on this person not being a member of the saint servants; as long as this bet was won, the City of Living Pagodas feared no power under heaven.

But this person was not only that.

He himself had a city.

His teacher was also Bazhun’an, deeply connected with Lord Shou... if anything happened, the City of Living Pagodas would inevitably fall.

Beaten!

Admittedly beaten!

Lu Shi Yu and Tie Dameng exchanged helpless glances with Taoist Shangfeng and others, finally relinquishing the Life Sword with a resigned sigh, bowing:

"I hope the Laughing Sword Immortal will keep his promise, returning the famed sword to our City of Living Pagodas in six months."

"No problem." Laughing Kongtong grinned, reaching out to capture the sword.

Buzz!

At this moment, from the distant north, suddenly shot a dark sword light.

The wailing sounds of the fierce ghost follow closely behind, echoing throughout the Ghost Buddha Realm and spreading along the sea and land, Path Principles, gradually reaching the five regions of Shengshen Continent.

A voice slightly tinged with sand and dryness, yet brimming with battle intent, sweeps through the ears of the world:

"Where is Bazhun’an?"

...

"Where is Bazhun’an!"

In the Feng Family City of the Southern Region, millions of spiritual swords, some owned and some ownerless, suddenly soared into the sky, covering the heavens in dazzling splendor, their sight terrifying.

Everyone was frightened, nearly ninety percent of the city’s populace fell to the ground in shock.

Suddenly!

Listening to the horrific echo, this person seems to be declaring war... against whom? Against the Eighth Sword Deity?

Who is he? Is he crazy!

"Truly mad!"

"This world, has finally gone mad!"

"Wahaha, let chaos reign, let chaos reign!" Many crawling madmen on the Land of Sin, instead of being terrified at the sight of the swords, rejoiced, their curiosity already leading them to search Zhang Xing to see if there’s any knowledgeable Preacher.

The Feng family’s great courtyard, where the sword pavilion trembles.

All kinds of spiritual swords inside, the Inscription Stele ancient sword, all broke through the windows, together with the sabers of all the Feng family ancient swordsmen whom none could hold, ascended to the heavens.

"This..."

Everyone rushed out of their rooms, to the gates of their courtyards, yet couldn’t help but kneel down.

Struggling to lift their eyes.

The sky is no longer a sky, but an ocean of swords, the entire world submerged by swords!

Feng Zhongzui first squeezed his left shoulder, then his right shoulder, barely managed to get out of the room, from the dark chamber, into a worse plight beneath the shadow of swords.

He looked at the full sky of swords, crashed to his knees, then froze.

He suddenly began to shiver.

Not only fear brought by density, but also an immense panic about the awe-inspiring Way of the Sword, and his own insignificance detected at a glance.

"Plop, plop..."

Beads of sweat fell from his forehead.

Feng Zhongzui thought it was his mental state causing physical reaction, a quick glance swept through the courtyard, everyone was the same.

As ten thousand swords simultaneously become living beings, they all bowed northward, like an emperor traveling, civility, bending proud eminence, this is the "end of the Way of the Sword!"

"Xiao Wanfeng..."

Feng Zhongzui thought of his good friend.

He doesn’t know if the Godhood Sword Xuan Cang has also been drawn high into the air, nor if Xiao Wanfeng is kneeling on the ground like himself right now.

He suddenly wants to go to the Central Region Ghost Buddha Realm, to see the battlefield upfront.

He roughly knows what has happened, it’s what he anticipated half a year ago but didn’t wait for.

He struggled a bit, couldn’t stand up.

So he pulled out the Golden Apricot, secretly found Red’s attention, and clicked into her Golden Apricot Preaching screen.

A pitch-black darkness.

...

"Where is Bazhun’an!"

In the Burial Sword Tomb, myriad swords soared, tens of thousands of pilgrimage-goers crashed to their knees.

The fog shrouding the Eastern Mountain suddenly sank, revealing peaks sharp as swords piercing the heavens, unmatched in sharpness.

But that mountain...

Looking up...

It unexpectedly started to tremble!

"Clink."

In the Burial Sword Tomb, at the Sword Washing Pool, water splashes shattered in surprise.

Among the buzzing sounds, those swords collected over countless years here, rusty swords, reignite with hot blood, exhibit their edge afresh, breaking through the air with a resounding clang.

"It’s here."

Wen Ting’s black hair flew as he looked up through the gaps of the Sword Flow into the void.

He did not stop the worship rite of the ancient sword in the Sword Washing Pool, as he knows who is coming, hence everything was meaningless.

But when all swords were gone, and the Sword Washing Pool suddenly emptied.

The sword that resided there, once the most unremarkable, in becoming the only one, appeared standout at this moment.

It was a blue Broken Sword, born with patches of rust, typically moaning in agony, never-ending day and night, greatly annoying.

At this moment, its silence, its composure, was particularly jarring.

Wen Ting chuckled, caressed Qingju, jokingly said, "They all went to worship him, why do you, not worship?"