Journey to the West: Starting with the True Lord of the Pure Land

It's true that they had no intention of pursuing him.

Chen Jiao did not actually set out to give chase.

However, Kenmaru Aoshiso did not agree.

Xuan Guang Shangren, who had fled far away after dissolving his blood, heard the calm words behind him. Instead of feeling relieved, he became even more terrified, and his escape light intensified.

Having lived for hundreds of years and weathered many storms, how could he believe such nonsense about "unintentional pursuit"?

This is clearly the composure of a cat playing with a mouse, the indifference of someone who has victory firmly in their grasp.

Driven by extreme terror, he abandoned all his composure, frantically urging his escape light while letting out a piercing roar. His voice, distorted by his severe injuries and fear, echoed between heaven and earth:

"Xuan Ling! Don't be so arrogant!"

If you dare to kill me, my Sword Pavilion's founder has already ascended to the upper realm and joined the ranks of immortals! If you do this annihilating thing today, the founder will surely sense it!

When the heavenly wrath descends, no matter how powerful you are, you will not escape the judgment of heavenly law! The patriarch will surely unleash the might of thunder, annihilating you both body and soul!

Master Xuanguang invoked the name of the patriarch, attempting to intimidate Chen Jiao.

Celestial officials are indeed unapproachable to cultivators in the lower realms, as they are the ones who govern the heavenly rules.

Upon hearing this, Chen Jiao's lips twitched almost imperceptibly, revealing a faint hint of mockery that vanished in an instant.

He did not respond, but his gaze remained calm as he followed the receding crimson rainbow.

The speed at which the azure-gold sword pellet in Chen Jiao's hand spun seemed to have subtly increased slightly.

The cloud, water, and thunder patterns on it flowed more and more dynamically, and a deep humming sound could be heard, like the roar of a dragon.

"go!"

Chen Jiao flicked his finger.

The Azure Frost Sword Pellet vanished silently into the air.

The next instant, a thousand miles away, Xuan Guang Shangren, who was fleeing for his life, felt a sudden jolt in his heart.

A chilling, locking sensation instantly seized his soul, like an invisible shackle that firmly bound him.

Before he could even turn around, he felt a very subtle, sharp pain in his back, as if a cold needle was pressing against him.

"No--!"

Master Xuanguang let out a desperate roar, desperately urging his Cloud-Cutting Strike to block, burning his golden core to support the last bit of protective spiritual light.

However, it was all in vain.

The sword pellet may seem tiny, but it contains the ultimate sharpness and majestic thunderous power to cut through everything and destroy all laws!

"Pfft!"

A soft sound, like the sound of leather being struck.

The stabbing pain in my back suddenly intensified, turning into excruciating agony!

A lapis lazuli sword pellet had silently pierced through him, entering from his back and exiting through his chest.

There was no earth-shattering explosion, no horrific scene of flying blood and flesh.

The immense sword intent contained within the sword pellet instantly pulverized the body's internal organs, meridians, elixir, and even the soul and consciousness the moment it entered.

Time seemed to freeze at that moment.

Master Xuanguang's fleeing figure suddenly froze. He opened his mouth, but no sound came out.

The next moment, its body, like a weathered sand sculpture, rapidly spread countless cracks from the small hole pierced by the sword pellet, and then silently disintegrated, turning into the purest spiritual energy points that drifted in the air.

Only a dull storage ring and a tattered robe slowly fell from the sky.

The Azure Frost Sword Pellet paused slightly in mid-air, like a falcon that had completed its mission, before turning around and transforming into a barely perceptible streak of light.

It traversed thousands of miles of mountains and rivers, and in an instant flew back to Yunmang Mountain, entered Chen Jiao's body, and disappeared.

They were killed from afar, their bodies and souls annihilated.

A Golden Core cultivator has thus perished.

……

The Radiant Mirror, placed in the square in front of the palace, rippled violently on its surface like waves.

The reflected scene of a thousand miles instantly blurred and shattered, and then with a soft "snap," the entire precious mirror shattered inch by inch, turning into countless dazzling specks of light that drifted away and disappeared.

All the guests, including the well-informed Master Chixia, stood frozen in place, their faces ashen, their backs soaked with cold sweat.

They watched helplessly as a Golden Core cultivator was so easily and casually nailed to death in mid-air, without even a chance to struggle.

However, the sudden shattering of the precious mirror was like the last straw, breaking the tense nerves of all the guests present.

The deathly silence in the square in front of the palace was finally broken.

"Thump!"

A young master from a noble family with slightly lower cultivation level dropped his jade cup, which shattered on the bluestone slab with a crisp sound.

The sound seemed to be a signal, startling the stunned crowd.

"Xuan Guang... Fellow Daoist Xuan Guang, he..."

An old cultivator who was on good terms with the Sword Pavilion trembled, his face was deathly pale, and before he could finish speaking, he coughed violently, as if an invisible fear had choked him.

"Body and soul annihilated... right before our eyes... right here at this Golden Core Ceremony..."

The other person muttered to himself, his eyes vacant, still unable to accept this absurd and cruel reality.

A Golden Core cultivator was easily killed like an ant from a thousand miles away on the day of his own sect's grand celebration!

Such an impact far exceeded their understanding over hundreds of years.

The celebratory music still lingers in our ears, the lingering fragrance of fine wine still lingers on our teeth, but the protagonist of this grand feast has already passed away, leaving not a trace behind.

The stark contrast intensified everyone's sense of absurdity and fear.

The elders of the Sword Pavilion, including Changhe, were ashen-faced and their bodies were ice-cold, as if they had fallen into a bottomless ice cave.

With the passing of the venerable one, the sect's greatest reliance collapsed instantly, and immense fear and despair gripped their very being.

The First Elder, Changhe, staggered backward, and if the Second Elder hadn't caught him in time, he would have almost collapsed to the ground.

He looked towards Yunmang Mountain in the distance, his eyes filled with despair and despair.

Jiange's greatest asset, which had only been out of the pass for a little over three months, was gone just like that.

And right under everyone's noses, he was brutally killed a thousand miles away!

The dual impact on both the eyes and the soul is beyond words.

The guests, whether they had been delighted, fearful, or regretful before, now all wore expressions of undisguised horror.

Some shrewd individuals have already begun to quietly move back, intending to leave this place of trouble as soon as possible.

After this battle, the reputation of Xuan Guang Sword Pavilion has been completely destroyed, and it seems... it's finished.

The guests found various reasons and left one after another.

True Immortal Chixia did not linger any longer. He nodded slightly to Elder Changhe, whose face was ashen, as a sign of courtesy, and then drifted away.

Before he could take a step, a panicked and desperate cry came from behind him.

"Please wait, Your Excellency!"

The First Elder, Changhe, staggered forward a few steps, disregarding his status, and bowed deeply to the ground before the back of True Person Chixia, his voice trembling with sobs and despair:

"Senior Chixia! I beg you, for the sake of our past relationship, to save my Xuan Guang Sword Pavilion!"

He raised his head, his face ashen, his eyes bloodshot, all traces of the former Grand Elder's majesty gone, replaced only by the desperate pleading of someone at the end of their rope.

"That demon from Yunmang Mountain... no, the Great King Xuanling's supernatural powers are unparalleled, and our Sword Pavilion is no match for him!"

The sect leader has met with misfortune, and now with a powerful enemy at our side, our destruction is imminent.

"Changhe...Changhe is willing to lead the entire Sword Pavilion sect, surrendering it all to the Aolai Kingdom, offering up all its inherited scriptures and sect's foundation, only asking...only asking that your esteemed kingdom lend a helping hand and protect us, the surviving disciples, so that we may have a way to live!"

These words not only saddened the elders of the Sword Pavilion behind him, but also moved many of the guests who had not yet left the banquet.

The fact that the Grand Elder, the head of the three sects of Aolai Kingdom, was forced to surrender with his entire sect and abandon his ancestral property shows that Jian Ge has reached its dead end.

However, Master Chixia stopped in his tracks, slowly turned around, his face showing neither pity nor sarcasm, only a detached indifference that seemed to have seen through the ways of the world.

His gaze calmly fell upon Master Changhe, and he slowly shook his head, his voice gentle yet carrying an undeniable distance:

"Fellow Daoist Changhe, you are mistaken."