Chapter 1644: Chapter 1267: Sword Blood Floating Life! The Explosive Power of One-tail!
But in a flash, he had already knocked off another third of Shakyamuni’s blood bar from above his head compared to before, and instantly saw that this spooky, fake-god powerhouse wasn’t unscathed after all.
Crackle!—
The Divine Tail behind him, radiating Golden Light, flickered once like a crooked bolt of lightning, abruptly extending to lash at Shakyamuni’s head on the opposite side.
Shakyamuni let out a strange laugh, his gaze shooting out a mocking look that made Jiang Dali’s nameless fire flare up. He let his head be struck by the crooked lightning, and the blood bar above his head only trembled slightly before his entire head bizarrely exploded into fine powder, as if it wasn’t made of flesh and blood, but a chunk of plaster or glass.
"Just what Martial Arts is this!?"
Jiang Dali’s pupils shrank sharply.
At that very moment, sword rain suddenly flashed down from above like streaks of white light, erupting with a deafening boom.
The instant Jiang Dali looked up, his ears had already gone deaf, his vision was swallowed by a sheet of blinding white that stung so hard that even with his powerful eyesight his tears almost spilled out. He could only vaguely see several figures in that intense white light being blasted and tumbling in all directions.
At the very center of that white light, Wu Ming’s body was actually slowly drifting down when it suddenly burst into a spray of blood.
The blood pouring out from his body nearly dyed half of the blazing white sky red. Then, as Wu Ming’s body flipped, his sword finger pointed, and the gushing blood converged into four Blood Swords radiating intense Sword Intent, which suddenly shot like lightning toward a certain spot below.
"Sword Blood Floating Life!"
Wu Ming’s voice seemed to come from some extremely distant firmament, majestic and icy cold, echoing in everyone’s deafened ears. The vast and sharp Sword Intent shook their Spirit.
"Aaah!—!"
From a dark corner, a miserable scream suddenly rang out.
Shakyamuni’s familiar figure, wearing the Mystic Ice Mask, staggered into view, his body pierced through by the four Blood Swords, blood spraying in great gouts from him. The blood bar above his head once again plummeted wildly, almost dropping to half of what it had been at the start.
But this massive injury was not what frightened and shocked him the most. What terrified and shocked him most right now was that Wu Ming had actually "woken up"!
"Now!"
Jiang Dali bit down so hard blood spurted from his gums, roared furiously like thunder, stomped the ground, and the floor exploded beneath his feet. His burly body, trailing a golden tail, shot out like a launched bomb, violently charging forward as he drew his treasure sword.
"Sweeping Thousands of Army!!—"
He had only uttered the word "army"!
The Great Strength Fire Qilin Saber had already transformed into blazing firelight, tearing the air apart with a bang, air currents howling, and in an instant it enveloped Shakyamuni’s figure within.
"This bastard!"
Shakyamuni let out an angry roar. Watching such a domineering slash come down right in his face—if he were still in his previous, intact State, he could have easily dodged it. But now—
He could only once more rouse the Mahavira within his body, mustering all his might, forming a sword finger with both hands and unleashing a strike!
Ten Thousand Blades Piercing Cloud!
Resplendent Sword Qi like All Swords Return to the Sect, as swift as thunder and fierce wind, as fast as racing lightning, exploded out and collided with the blazing Saber Qi!
Bang!—
The ground and the wall behind shook violently once, and then, as a ferocious ring-shaped shockwave spread out, they blew apart into a vast cloud of powder.
Under the impact of that surging Qi Force, Shakyamuni’s figure once more bizarrely turned into a cloud of powder and vanished without a trace.
"Huff—huff—"
Jiang Dali was panting harshly like a bellows, the blade tip planted into the ground to support his Body. The Qi-Blood in his entire body, which had been boosted by Love Devotion for Seven Lifetimes, was plummeting rapidly. Blood kept gushing out from his burst, bulging muscles and torn skin, dyeing half his body red and dripping onto the ground.
Whoosh whoosh!—
Whoosh!—
The figures of the Sword Saint and the others descended from midair all at once and approached Jiang Dali. Seeing he was unharmed, they relaxed, then all turned their gazes toward Wu Ming, who had also fallen down.
The instant Wu Ming landed, the color drained from his face in a swipe. He gave a muffled groan and spat out a mouthful of fresh blood. His stern eyes looked toward Jiang Dali, a few degrees gentler in them. He slightly nodded, then said solemnly, "I’ve lost the power to fight again. Let’s leave this place first!"
Though Jiang Dali was full of pent-up rage, at this moment all of them, himself included, had exhausted a huge amount of strength, and Shakyamuni’s weird State of being ghostly, appearing and disappearing, and impossible to kill was indeed practically unsolvable.
Since the opponent had already fled, it would be hard to continue the chase. He immediately gave the others a heavy nod, then stood up, grabbed the Ice Emperor and Divine Mother again, and they all moved out to leave.
...
Snow God Mountain, inside a certain cave.
A large cloud of powder like ice crystals suddenly appeared, then instantly condensed into a ragged figure, who lurched forward in a wretched stumble, barely managing to prop himself against the wall and stand firm.
His two arms were twisted at grotesque angles, clearly broken. There were even burn blisters on his skin, and the Mystic Ice Mask on his face was splattered and stained with blood. He looked utterly miserable—it was none other than Shakyamuni.
"Lord!"
"Lord!"
Just then, shadows flickered in the cave. Several agile figures flashed over and knelt on the ground, staring in shock and disbelief at the utterly wretched Shakyamuni, waves of turmoil surging in their hearts.
Among them, the short and stocky Divine Doctor was especially shocked, sucking in a cold breath at Shakyamuni’s sorry appearance.
"Hehehehe..."
Shakyamuni let out a cold, eerie laugh. His gaze became extremely vicious and strange as he muttered to himself.
"Impressive! Impressive! This god underestimated that obedient grandson, and underestimated that brat, the Black Wind Village Chief’s strength even more! He actually managed to cultivate the War God Chronicles to the rumored Power of One Tail!
If this god hadn’t long since mastered the power of the Seven No Absolute Realm and could turn his Body into the source of power to be reconstituted, I’m afraid..."
Before he could finish, the strange light in Shakyamuni’s eyes grew even stronger. Suddenly his eyes flashed like blinding lightning, enveloping the subordinates kneeling before him, and he opened his mouth and took a fierce inhale.
At once, all those subordinates began to scream miserably. The Three Flowers of their spirit, originally a vague, ethereal force, actually began to loosen with Shakyamuni’s inhale, then merged into threads of spiritual power, drilling into his gaping mouth and causing the blood bar above his head to slowly recover.
In just an instant.
This group of people stopped screaming all at once. The skin on each of their faces froze rigid, and their eyeballs "thud, thud" fell out of their sockets.
Then blood flowed out from their noses, ears, and mouths.
After that, all the bones in their bodies seemed to lose all support and collapse, unable to bear the Weight of their Bodies. With a "beep" they all went limp, softer than rotten mud.
"Mmm mmm mmm!!—"
The Divine Doctor in the corner watched all this, so horrified that he clamped both hands over his mouth, not daring to let out a scream.
Only then did Shakyamuni smack his lips twice, take a leisurely breath, twist his body, and coldly stare at the now limp Divine Doctor. He said blandly, "This god wants to know why the Blood God Pill used to control Wu Ming actually had a flaw. Why did he wake up?"
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