I Just Wanted to Teach Cultivation, But Goddesses Keep Coming!

Chapter 540: Chapter 540 Pointing at Random Things Does Not Count as a Formless Sword Qi, Disciple!

But whatever it was, it terrified the spear to its very heart.

The weapon that had shattered space, distorted time, and threatened to pierce the heavens now shook like a frightened beast standing before the king of all creation.

Its dark aura rapidly weakened.

"Argggg!" The spear let out another miserable roar.

It sounded less like the cry of a supreme weapon and more like the whimper of a terrified creature begging for mercy.

Then, before anyone could react, the spear abruptly turned around.

Whoosh!

It shot toward the ceiling at unimaginable speed. The dark weapon fled. It fled without striking.

In the blink of an eye, it vanished beyond the horizon and disappeared into the endless void, never to be seen again.

Everyone stared blankly at the empty ceiling of the room.

Their minds could not process what they had just witnessed.

"What...?"

Someone finally managed to utter a sound.

That single word broke the silence. Immediately, countless shocked expressions appeared.

Both Daoist Thunder Emperor and the nameless old man could scarcely believe their eyes.

A supreme weapon that had accompanied its master through countless battles had actually run away before the battle even began.

The most stunned person present, however, was its owner.

Meng Hao stood frozen in place. His eyes were wide open as he stared at the empty heavens.

His mind had gone completely blank. That spear had been with him for countless years.

He knew its pride better than anyone. It was a weapon that feared neither heaven nor earth.

Even when facing death, it had never retreated. Yet now... It had escaped.

Not because it was defeated. It had simply looked at Lin Feng and chosen to flee.

A cold shiver ran down Meng Hao’s spine.

For the first time in countless years, genuine fear appeared in his heart.

Just what had the spear seen?

What kind of existence was this seemingly ordinary young man?

Meng Hao slowly turned toward Lin Feng.

The latter still stood there calmly, his finger extended exactly as before.

It was as though nothing had happened.

As though the fleeing of a heaven defying divine spear was an event too insignificant to deserve even a second glance.

That indifference was far more terrifying than any display of power.

At that moment, everyone present realized a frightening truth.

Lin Feng had not defeated the spear. He had not even touched it. The spear had surrendered itself.

"This can’t be! How?"

The small old man stood frozen in disbelief.

His eyes remained fixed on the spot where his divine spear had vanished.

That weapon had accompanied him for countless years.

It had followed him through endless battles, slain supreme experts, and pierced through heaven and earth at his command.

Yet now it had fled like a scared dog. It had simply taken one look at Lin Feng and run away.

The old man’s body trembled. Slowly, he turned his gaze toward Lin Feng.

The young man remained standing exactly where he had been moments ago.

The old man tried to see through him. He tried to sense his cultivation.

He tried to glimpse even a fragment of Lin Feng’s true strength.

But it was impossible. Lin Feng was like an endless abyss.

No matter how deeply one stared, all they found was greater mystery.

Reading him was nothing short of a dream.

Perhaps only a miracle could reveal even a fraction of what he truly was.

For a brief moment, hesitation appeared in the old man’s heart.

Perhaps he should retreat. Perhaps he should give up.

But then his eyes landed upon the frozen figure of Bai Qing. Or rather...

The figure of the woman he had searched for across countless years.

The woman who had become his obsession.

The reason he had endured endless loneliness and suffering.

The reason he was still standing here today. The hesitation in his heart instantly vanished.

"No."

His eyes became bloodshot.

"I didn’t come this far to stop now."

His aura exploded once more. The remaining blood essence within his body ignited like a raging inferno.

His life force burned. His cultivation burned. Even his soul began to burn.

He was gambling everything on this final attack. Regardless of victory or defeat.

Regardless of life or death. He would give it his all.

"Die!"

The old man roared. The heavens shook. The earth trembled.

With a single step, he crossed the distance between them. Without his spear. There was only his fist.

A simple punch carrying the entirety of his cultivation, his will, his obsession, and his countless years of regret.

As the punch traveled forward, space shattered layer after layer.

Stars seemed to dim. The surrounding laws of reality distorted under the pressure.

Daoist Thunder Emperor’s pupils contracted. He knew that this was no longer a mere punch.

This was the culmination of an entire lifetime. The final strike of a man who had nothing left to lose.

The old man poured everything into it. His body cracked. Blood sprayed from his pores.

His meridians ruptured one after another. Yet his fist continued forward.

Faster. Stronger. More desperate. And throughout it all... Lin Feng simply stood there.

Watching.

As though the attack capable of destroying worlds was nothing more than a gentle breeze approaching him.

The punch landed, and Lin Feng did not dodge. Instead, he met it directly with a single finger.

Bang!

Fist and finger collided.

Yet there was no explosion of blood or shattered bones... only a dull, crushing impact that echoed through the space.

The old man’s full force strike, powerful enough to level entire empires, failed to move Lin Feng even half a step.

His finger remained perfectly still. Unscathed. Untouched. As if the attack had never truly existed.

"This... can’t be real..."

The old man muttered in disbelief, his voice trembling.

His eyes widened in horror as he stared at the scene before him.

Everything he had poured into that punch... his burning blood essence, his shattered meridians, his collapsing life force had all culminated in that single strike.

And yet it had been stopped. By a single finger.