Maximum Comprehension: Taking Care of Swords In A Sword Pavilion

Chapter 1890: 779, Purple Sun Cauldron, a supreme treasure from ancient times



Chapter 1890: 779, Purple Sun Cauldron, a supreme treasure from ancient times


Translator: 549690339


Ling Yao, that was the name of the sword-wielding battle puppet.


This battle puppet possessed power that surpassed that of a Primordial-level battle puppet, making it the strongest among the four golden armored ones.


But now, this powerful puppet had been sealed in ice, its body imprisoned.


The sharpness and cold emanating from the cloaked figure were connected to the ice freezing the puppet.


Below the cloak was a set of black armor flickering with frost.


This was a set of armor that transcended the Primordial level.


Han Muye was seeing such formidable armor for the first time.


After reaching the Divine level, there wasn’t much difference between armor and puppets, but although puppets had weaker control, their combat strength was significantly greater.


Armor, on the other hand, sacrificed combat strength for increased defense, speed, and control.


In the Galaxy Universe, battle puppets were mainly the high-end combat forces that Han Muye had seen capable of fighting at the Desolate Tier alone; not many were seen controlling armor.


“Whoosh”


The previously pervasive mist of flames exploded, and the long saber-wielding battle puppet stepped out from it, turning its head to look at the cloaked figure.


At this moment, it seemed as if a streak of blood rose from the puppet.


Killing intent.


The battle puppet, too, had killing intent.


“Linghui, you still have the face to return to Ziyang City?”


An oppressed roar came from the puppet’s mouth as it lifted its long saber.


But before it could act, the cloaked figure raised its hand.


A stream of green frost mist immediately froze the body of the golden armored battle puppet.


“Why can’t I return?”


“If you blind devotees wish to be buried along with Ziyang City, I am not interested.”


The voice from the cloak carried a hint of hoarseness and an undertone of gloom.


“Why can’t the end of an era simply be left in the past?”


The cloaked figure pointed to the altar ahead, with a surge of sky-ascendant golden Flowing Light rising from its body.


“He, Xu Ziyang, is already dead, and this Purple Sun Cauldron should be handed over to us to continue the glory of Ziyang City.”


As emotions erupted in the voice, the cloak exploded and each figure standing there, dressed in Frost Battle Armor with icy faces, was revealed, each holding a long wooden staff.


The body of this elder seemed to have been fished out of frost.


Or rather, he had walked out from the frost itself.


“Linghui, madman! Disrespectful to the master, deserving death,” the long saber-wielding battle puppet raised its weapon, struggling to shatter the ice freezing it.


A cold smile appeared on the ice-cold elder’s face, which, paired with his frigid features, looked fearsome.


He pointed his wooden staff ahead.


“For this day, I have waited three hundred thousand years.”


The staff gathered frost to form a sword, thrusting it straight into the chest of the saber-wielding puppet.


This strike carried endless profound mysteries, stirring the surrounding space into a vortex.


Against such a sword, the puppet’s body could not withstand it.


“Boom”


A loud sound echoed.


A three-foot-long sword was thrust forward.


It wasn’t the sword stabbed by the Frost Elder, but instead, the long sword of the sword-wielding battle puppet sliced through, severing the wooden staff held by the elder.


The broken staff flew into the air, its scattering frost freezing the nearby ten miles.


The cultivators from Linglong City shivered within this icy force.


Their cultivation abilities were entirely insufficient to resist this Ice-cold Power.


“Ling Yao!” the Frost Elder growled, with ice-cold flames emerging from his armor.


Flames that were actually cold light.


“Bang”


The light was shattered by a long arrow, as the golden armored puppet, holding a long bow, stepped forward.


The four battle puppets stood shoulder to shoulder in front of the altar.


By this time, the Silver War Puppet had also stood up, joining the Frost Elder.


“How rare, the disciples of the former Lord of Ziyang City are almost all gathered now,” commented a Green-robed Old Man not far away, with a smile on his face as he looked at the Golden Cauldron on the altar, greed flashing in his eyes.


Elsewhere, several similarly dressed cultivators, guiding several Primordial-level battle puppets, surrounded the void.


“Hehe, now that I’m here, it really is everybody gathered.”


From within the void, a voice slowly spread out.


As this voice sounded, the surrounding heaven and earth seemed to be imprisoned, with pieces of the void shattering.


Han Muye turned his head, a trace of wariness in his eyes.


This was the refining expert who had turned Xia Ruzhe’s soul into a golden bead.


This was the first powerhouse of the Galaxy Universe who made him feel pressured.


Not one who relied on battle puppets or armor, but purely on Physical Strength to oppress the power of heaven and earth.


This was a powerhouse whose mere physical strength could crush divine beasts.


“Yaoyang elder brother.”


“Zheng Yaoyang.”


“The former young city lord of Ziyang City, Xu Ziyang’s direct disciple and prime disciple.”


The surrounding whispers and panic-stricken retreats were heard.


The elder who had spoken earlier changed his expression and turned to leave.


The others who recognized Zheng Yaoyang were also shrinking back, promptly retreating.


Zheng Yaoyang.


“Gongsun, Upper Three Families of the Galaxy Universe,” Lu Zixu commented solemnly from behind Han Muye, speaking in a low voice.


“One of the top elders of the Zheng Family, one of the strongest blacksmiths in the Galaxy Universe.”


“It’s unexpected that he’s the young city lord of Ziyang City.”


This secret was even unknown to Lu Zixu.


Perhaps his status within his family was not yet high enough to be privy to such matters.


No wonder, with the arrival of Zheng Yaoyang, those scattered cultivators all around quietly withdrew.


Neither his cultivation abilities nor his identity were something anyone could afford to provoke.


Zheng Yaoyang glanced over at Han Muye, giving him a light nod with a smile.


Han Muye also nodded in return.


Only a warrior of such caliber could make Han Muye feel the need to take him seriously.



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