Legendary Beast Cultivator

The black void continued expanding, dark energy pouring from the ancient ritual circle like an limitless void tearing through the sky.

A sharp samurai sword clashed with the Frostfall.

Its long, slightly curved blade was forged from a strange black-silver metal, laced with thin crimson lines that lingered along its edge like throbbing veins.

The moment it appeared, an overwhelming wave of sword intent boomed across the main hall.

Xue Jianhong’s Frostfall was parried by the force, his legs dragging a few meters across the stone floor.

His eyes twitched with pure anger.

The weapon before him was no ordinary blade. It also carried an old, and strong aura, which was also felt as Frostfall itself.

The demonic cultivator slowly lowered his right arm, his left hand remaining still under his dark robe.

He clenched the samurai sword tightly, his scorched knuckles peeling out slowly. But he felt no pain.

The blade shuddered as a terrifying, pitch-black sword intent rumbled across the hall.

Under his torn hood, the cultivator’s rotten mouth curled into a grotesque grin.

"Meet Wànshī," he rasped, his voice reverberating off the stone pillars. "The ten thousand corpses."

Xue Jianhong’s expression turned pale as he raised Frostfall.

"Another great sword..." His gaze sharpened with lethal intent. "Then let us see which one is stronger."

Cang Ming immediately stepped forward. "If that bastard tries to take your life, we are stepping into this fight, Xue Jianhong."

Xue Jianhong didn’t turn back. He simply tightened his grip on his sword’s hilt.

"Stay out of it," He grinned and his voice was unnaturally calm. "This one is mine."

Chi Leiyang frowned, taking a step. "Jianhong—"

"I said..." Xue Jianhong’s light-blue beast essence burst outward with terrifying fury, "stay fucking out of it!"

A massive wave of cold energy ruptured out from his body. The temperature inside the hall plummeted instantly. The frost spread across the stone floor, crawling up the massive pillars and coating the shattered windows in frozen crystals.

Xue Jianhong raised Frostfall high. Behind him, the large phantom of his Ice Bear appeared with a loud roar.

The gigantic beast slammed both paws against the ground, its aura combining with Xue Jianhong’s powerful will and strength. The great sword Frostfall rattled with a brilliant silver radiance.

In the next instant, he vanished.

The demonic cultivator moved at the same moment. But unlike Xue Jianhong, he summoned no beast phantom, nor did he use any cheap tricks against Xue Jianhong.

He raised his right hand which had the sword.

He slashed Wànshī sideways in a black arc, and the Frostfall collided head-on with Wànshī.

A powerful shockwave rumbled throughout the hall, trenching up the stone floor and forcing the surrounding elders backward.

Lin Yuan immediately concentrated his beast essence, forming a protective barrier around his body to protect himself against the gale.

"What the hell..." Lin Yuan grunted, shielding his eyes with a hand.

The two great swords parted with a shriek of scraping metal.

Xue Jianhong’s eyes glinted with killing intent as he pressed forward. He concentrated his freezing light-blue essence into the blade and jumped upward.

A gigantic crescent of bluish energy slashed through the air toward the demonic cultivator.

The demonic cultivator simply lifted his sword in his hand.

His right arm moved in a calm stroke. A black crescent flashed, slicing through the incoming frozen sword energy.

The powerful slash shattered into tens of thousands of glittering fragments.

Xue Jianhong didn’t pause for a second. He rotated Frostfall around his body, letting out a bright light.

Then, hundreds of sword arcs appeared simultaneously, each carrying lethal, light-blue beast essence. The whole hall turned into an obscuring storm of silver blades.

But the demonic cultivator stood calm and unbothered. His right wrist flicked once, twice, and then three times.

His sword danced through the air, deflecting every incoming strike with a perfect precision. He was using only his right hand to deflect every attack from Xue Jianhong. It was like disrespect to Jianhong and the demonic cultivator is belittling him.

’He’s injured,’ Lin Yuan’s eyes narrowed in shock and fear. ’But, still he is strong enough to fight with a great sword single handedly?’

The demonic cultivator’s left side remained limp, his arm hidden under his robe. But his right hand moved with strong and steady precision.

Xue Jianhong lunged forward, his Ice Bear roaring behind him as the light-blue beast essence cloaking Frostfall reached a thick density.

The whole floor froze into ice. A domain of pure, bone-chilling ice expanded across the hall, suppressing even the demonic aura surrounding the corpse.

Xue Jianhong appeared in front of his opponent, bringing Frostfall down in a devastating strike.

Then, Wànshī met the strike head-on again.

The two great swords crackled together vehemently, sending sparks out. For a few breaths, neither backed up.

Then, Xue Jianhong pushed his strength forward, his muscles straining as his beast essence surged wildly.

"Just die, you bastard!" Xue Jianhong groaned under his breath.

The ground under them cracked, and the demonic cultivator’s legs dug a few inches into the stone floor.

A raspy laughter leaked from the corpse’s rotten lips. "Hahaha..."

With a sudden twist of his wrist, he pushed Frostfall aside, allowing Wànshī to vanish into a black blur.

Xue Jianhong’s eyes flickered once in panic.

The samurai blade whistled toward his neck. Xue Jianhong barely tilted his head; the sharp edge passed within an inch, severing a strand of his hair.

Then, groaning with immediate fury, Xue Jianhong flicked his wrist for a brutal horizontal slash.

The demonic cultivator raised Wànshī to block.

The sheer impact sent him flying backward, crashing straight through one of the hall’s massive stone pillars.

The stone ruptured into debris, filling the room with dust clouds.

Xue Jianhong didn’t hesitate. He gave chase through the cloud, his sword transforming into a silver light.

Wànshī and Frostfall collided repeatedly. Every clash sent waves of strong sword intent rippling through the hall, forcing the elders even farther toward the edge.

Chi Leiyang’s Lightning Panther let out a low growl. "This is insane..."

"Just let him fight," Cang Ming remained still, his sharp gaze darting across every attack of the blades rapidly. "Don’t interfere."

Chi Leiyang looked at him, but Cang Ming continued, his voice unwavering. "He wanted to fight alone. But if that bastard actually tries to kill him..."

His fingers clenched into fists. "Then we will step in."

High above, Xue Jianhong leaped into the air. His Ice Bear let out a loud roar as his beast essence condensed into an enormous sword phantom hovering above the hall.

Xue Jianhong gripped his sword tightly, bringing it down with an immense force.

The massive sword phantom descended.

The demonic cultivator looked up, his rotten mouth smiling. He poured his pitch-black beast essence into the blade, raising it with a single hand.

A black crescent moon rose from his blade, slicing into the high.

The collision burst out with catastrophic force and loud boom.

The main hall shook vehemently as pillars and walls cracked. The remaining glass panes shattered, and a massive shockwave swept outward into the courtyard.

Lin Yuan shielded his face with his arm, his white tiger groaning at his side.

"Damn..."

He peered through the settling dust. Both figures were still standing.

Xue Jianhong’s robes were torn, and a streak of blood trickled from the corner of his mouth.

The demonic cultivator’s hood had been sliced apart, exposing more of his scorched, decaying face, but his grin remained the same.

"You’re tough, filthy rot," Xue Jianhong wiped the blood from his mouth.

The demonic cultivator tilted his head. "You’re weaker than the old phoenix."

"Don’t compare me to that old bastard," Xue Jianhong yelled, his eyes filled with murderous rage.

Xue Hongzhao called out from behind. "Jianhong!"

Xue Jianhong ignored him. He raised Frostfall once more, while the demonic cultivator lifted Wànshī in response.

Both great swords began shaking vehemently, their strong sword intents turning the air in the hall suffocatingly heavy.

Then, Xue Jianhong blasted forward. The demonic cultivator charged as well.

The two swords slammed together again, locked in a brutal spark of strength.

Frostfall pushed against Wànshī; Wànshī pushed against Frostfall. Their overlapping sword intent carved grooves into the surrounding stone floor.

Xue Jianhong gritted his teeth, his muscles straining against the corpse’s strange and steady grip.

"Your sword..." The demonic cultivator leaned in, his voice changing into a rasping whisper, "is still incomplete."

Xue Jianhong’s expression changed, listening to those words. "What?"

The demonic cultivator’s right hand suddenly twisted, sliding Wànshī’s edge along Frostfall.

A bright shower of sparks splashed out between them.

Then, a blast of dark energy erupted, sending Xue Jianhong flying backward to crash onto the stone floor.

"Jianhong!" Cang Ming yelled, taking a step forward.

Xue Jianhong immediately pushed himself back up, thick blood dripping from his chin as he gripped Frostfall tighter. "Don’t."

Cang Ming halted, gritting his teeth.

"I haven’t lost yet," Xue Jianhong stared at the demonic cultivator.

"Good," The demonic cultivator smiled faintly.

He raised Wànshī, gathering an immense flow of pitch-black beast essence into the blade. The pressure became terrifying, causing even the sect master’s expression to turn pale.

"Jianhong..." Lin Yuan stared at the demonic cultivator, his mind storming with many thoughts.

That body had been scorched by the Eternal Flame. He was killed, and his dead corpse had been stored inside the medical pavilion.

And still, he was standing here, fighting with a great sword. And possessing enough raw power to challenge Xue Jianhong to his limits.

Lin Yuan’s hands trembled as fearful thought lingered into his mind. ’How the fuck is he alive?’

The demonic cultivator slowly raised Wànshī, and Xue Jianhong raised Frostfall. Both great swords pointed at each other with strong intent of killing each other.