I became a god through frontier slaughter, and I crushed the academy's prodigies!

"To pass on my legacy."

Li Changge heard it through his soul.

The scene of the ancient battlefield was completely shattered.

The dark red sky, the crisscrossing spatial rifts, and the falling stardust—all these scenes transformed into billions of tiny specks of light, like a reversed fireworks display, converging on Li Changge's consciousness from all directions.

The moment the light struck his soul.

pain.

It wasn't physical pain, but rather a tear in the soul itself.

The points of light surged in through the crack, carrying with them Jiang Wufeng's lifelong insights into swordsmanship, his memories of battle, and the essence of his final sword strike.

"All swords return to one".

These four words exploded in Li Changge's mind.

A kind of intuitive understanding.

It's like someone stuffed all the pieces of a jigsaw puzzle into your brain at once; before you even had a chance to put them together, you already saw the complete picture.

Li Changge's consciousness was violently shaken.

He sensed Jiang Wufeng's sword.

That's not a technique. It's not some kind of sword manual or secret method.

Rather, it is a "state".

When a swordsman integrates all the thousands of sword techniques he has learned in his lifetime into one, and finally returns to the most essential "one sword"—that is the unity of all swords.

It sounds simple.

But the prerequisite for actually doing this is that you must first master the "Ten Thousand Swords".

Li Changge's consciousness was adrift in this torrent of information.

How many sword techniques did Jiang Wufeng practice throughout his life?

Li Changge couldn't count them all.

It possesses a domineering sword technique that is both direct and forceful; a single strike can cause mountains to crumble and the earth to split.

There is a mysterious and ever-changing way of the sword, with sword shadows overlapping sword shadows, and reality within illusion.

It possesses the Taihe sword intent of using softness to overcome hardness, borrowing strength to strike back, and using minimal force to deflect great weight.

It possesses a ruthless and decisive swordsmanship, seeking not defense, but only to kill you before you kill me.

Hundreds of varieties.

Thousands of varieties.

Each one represents a profound principle of swordsmanship that Jiang Wufeng spent decades trying to fully comprehend.

And now, they all flooded into Li Changge's soul.

The insights gained from this are immense and unimaginable.

Li Changge suddenly looked up from his chaotic consciousness.

Jiang Wufeng's phantom stood in front of him.

It wasn't the heavily wounded figure covered in blood and scars from the battlefield.

Instead, he was an elderly man dressed in a white robe with graying temples.

He still held that blunt, heavy sword in his hand, but the tip was lowered and posed no threat.

"Your innate swordsmanship is the purest foundation of swordsmanship."

Jiang Wufeng's illusory figure stared at Li Changge.

"I have practiced 1,273 sword techniques in my lifetime."

"Of these, I have mastered and made them my own, and there are 961 of them."

"I don't have time to teach you all of this. But I can plant the seven most core principles of swordsmanship in your mind."

"After you leave here, they will sprout and grow like seeds as your understanding of swordsmanship deepens."

Li Changge's heart suddenly raced.

Techniques are finite, but the principles are infinite.

"The first type—"

……

Jiang Wufeng's illusory images appeared one after another.

Some are powerful and domineering; with a single strike, the very space trembles.

Some were elusive and unpredictable, with seventy-two layers of sword shadows, each layer being a physical attack.

Some were so pure that they simply thrust their swords forward, causing Li Changge's innate sword bones to resonate and hum.

Each time one was displayed, a silvery-white dot of light flew into Li Changge's brow.

The moment the light entered his body, his sea of ​​consciousness trembled and expanded, as if it had been forcibly stretched to a larger size.

……

the other side.

On the edge of this land and the continent.

The sky remained a lifeless gray, stretching endlessly without any visible light source.

The earth was cracked, and the dark brown soil was covered with gullies tens of meters wide, as if this land had been repeatedly plowed by some force.

The remains of ancient buildings are scattered across the wasteland.

Broken walls and ruins, collapsed stone pillars, and giant statues whose edges have been worn away by time.

Everything exudes a desolation and deathly stillness accumulated over millions of years.

In the very center of this wasteland, a gray beam of light descended from the sky, illuminating an area spanning ten miles.

The very center of the beam of light.

Brahma was suspended in mid-air.

His Brahma Wheel puppet was already badly damaged.

The three-thousand-meter-tall mecha was reduced to less than half its original frame. Its two right arms were severed by turbulence when it passed through a spatial rift, and spatial wounds remained on the broken surface of the Star Destroyer Gold.

Of the four faces, two were shattered.

From the moment he fell onto this shattered continent, an invisible, omnipresent force permeated from all directions, like countless transparent chains that appeared out of thin air and wrapped layer upon layer around the surface of the Brahma Wheel.

Brahma could clearly sense their presence—because they were gradually sealing off his ninth-order law source.

"What is this...?"

Brahma's mental state fluctuated violently.

He attempted to invoke the power of the laws to resist.

The spiritual laws of the ninth-tier peak surged within his body, transforming into a world-destroying storm that attempted to shatter the transparent chains.

Useless.

The mental storm crashed against the chains like waves crashing against rocks, producing a dull roar before dissipating on its own.

The chains remained completely still.

Even at the very second he launched his counterattack, more chains emerged from the void, thicker and denser, wrapping around every skeleton of the Brahma Wheel.

ka ka ka-

The remaining spiritual patterns on the surface of the machine were extinguished over a large area.

The Brahma Wheel began to descend from its levitation height.

From 1,000 meters, down to 800 meters, down to 500 meters.

Like an iron bird with broken wings, it fell slowly and irreversibly.

boom.

The broken puppet, over a thousand meters tall, crashed heavily onto the cracked earth, creating a giant crater three kilometers in diameter.

Dust and smoke billowed into the sky, and pebbles scattered like raindrops.

Brahma's golden spiritual essence contracted violently within the broken chest armor, its light dimming by thirty percent.

He tried to manipulate the Brahma Wheel to stand up.

Can't do it.

Those transparent chains had seeped into every crevice of the machine, completely welding the body to the ground.

The Great Brahma Wheel lay face up in the giant pit, like the corpse of a giant nailed into a coffin.

Brahma's spiritual body struggled frantically inside the puppet, and his spiritual fluctuations transformed into golden ripples that spread outwards.

Each ripple carried the terrifying pressure of a peak ninth-tier cultivator.

After the ripples spread out for ten meters, they were swallowed up by some invisible force.

"The power of rules..."

Brahma finally recognized the true nature of this power.

The laws are the ultimate control a martial artist has over the power of heaven and earth; they are the process of condensing the laws of nature into controllable weapons.

A martial artist at the peak of the ninth rank can manipulate the laws to burn the earth and tear apart space.

But the rules are different.

The rules are a global law governing the operation of things.

The power of the rules governing this shattered continent tentatively bound him here—