A figure arrived in front of Jing Jiu with a whistling wind.
The river of lava was a bit dark, but it had a faint glow. Moreover, Jing Jiu's right hand was like a burning torch, illuminating the scene in front of him.
He was a skinny middle-aged man, his eyes emitting a green glow, his hair disheveled. He looked like a real wild animal, exuding an evil energy as thick as the dark night.
This deviant practitioner was very powerful, so he could cultivate so deep in the underground. He must be famous on the Cold Mountain.
Jing Jiu glanced at him, and was certain that this person had a higher Cultivation state than him.
Then, he looked at the magic treasure in his right hand, and was certain that it was hard enough even though it couldn't be burned.
A moment later, the magic treasure was burned by Jing Jiu's right hand, giving off a wisp of green smoke. The deviant practitioner showed a heartbroken and furious expression on his face, yelling sternly, "You have a death wish!"
Along with this stern yell, the magic treasure in Jing Jiu's hand grew more lethal, and dozens of resentful souls and dark spirits darted toward his face like moths.
The temperature in the cave suddenly dropped a bit, and the river of lava grew dimmer.
Those resentful souls and dark spirits were shapeless and intangible, and could attack the Dao heart and Yuanying of the Cultivation practitioners, so they were the most troublesome opponents for the orthodox Cultivation practitioners.
This deviant practitioner had spent more than one hundred years in the Gathered-Soul Valley, collecting thousands of resentful souls and dark spirits to temper his life magic treasure into a true demonic weapon.
Jing Jiu held the magic treasure in his hand, which looked like he was seeking death no matter how one looked at it.
Those resentful souls and dark spirits landed on his face like a gust of wind, but they didn't penetrate his face, as if they had bumped into a cliff wall. Instead, they scattered in all directions.
Jing Jiu didn't intend to let these resentful souls and dark spirits scatter. A bright sword light appeared in his eyes.
Crack!!! Those resentful souls and dark spirits wailed mournfully and turned into countless pieces, falling down to the ground.
What came out from his eyes was not a real sword light, but a pure sword will. The more shapeless and intangible an object was, the easier it was to cut it into pieces.
Only dozens of resentful souls and apparitions were cut into pieces. Although the evil practitioner was surprised by Jing Jiu's sharp sword intent, he did not care. He snorted coldly and prepared to continue attacking.
How could Jing Jiu give him such a chance? Dozens of sword wills spread out from his fingers and slashed around the magic treasure. Then, with a flip of his palm, he kept the magic treasure.
The evil cultivator's expression changed abruptly as he noticed that he couldn't sense the existence of his Magic Treasure any longer, and he couldn't help but be shocked to the extreme. Could it be that Chen Xi has severed the Divine Sense connection between me and my Magic Treasure? But how was that possible? Even the sharpest sword in the world could not do it!
The spiritual connection between a Cultivation practitioner and his magic treasure was an invisible thread that carried the meaning of cause and effect. It would take a long time for the connection to be erased. It was very difficult to cut it off in such a short time. Neither the Sword of the Universe nor Jing Jiu's right hand before he was injured could do it.
In fact, Jing Jiu did not use his sword or sword intent to cut the line. He only let his sword intent temporarily entangle the line and then sent the magic treasure somewhere else.
That place was really somewhere else.
Not here.
Not on the Cold Mountain.
And not even in Chaotian.
In a distant, cold, and dark space, there were a few black boxes and a bamboo chair floating in the air.
A snow-white beetle was crouching on the bamboo chair. It was none other than Cold Cicada, the head ornament of the Principal Guard of Aoyama, the Master White Ghost.
Crouching on the bamboo chair, Cold Cicada looked at the distant fireball that was bigger than a star but smaller than the sun, wondering what it was.
All of a sudden, a blood-red magic treasure appeared in front of Cold Cicada, blocking the fireball in the distance, exuding a gloomy and dreadful energy.
Cold Cicada reached out its thin foot curiously and fiddled with it slightly.
The resentful souls and dark spirits in the magic treasure leaped toward Cold Cicada while uttering soundless and dreadful shrieks.
Cold Cicada was startled. It rolled down from the high spot and onto the chair. Then, it lay down hastily and pretended to be dead. The claws on its stomach rubbed against each other a few times, releasing something.
What Cold Cicada had done was unnecessary; it was because those resentful souls and dark spirits had no way to get close to it. As soon as they left the surface of the magic treasure, they were melted into nothingness by a shapeless force in the dark space.
Those resentful souls and dark spirits that hadn't escaped from the magic treasure sensed the instinctive fear in the deepest part of their bodies, so they didn't dare come out. All of them squeezed into the deepest part of the magic treasure.
After waiting for a while, Cold Cicada found that nothing had happened. It turned over its body awkwardly and climbed onto the back of the bamboo chair along the armrest. Looking at the resentful souls and dark spirits surging like the tide in the magic treasure, it wondered what they were.
…
…
The deviant practitioner had a high Cultivation state and a wide range of knowledge. Soon, he figured out that Jing Jiu didn't cut off the connection between him and the magic treasure of his life, but sent the magic treasure to a place where his spiritual awareness couldn't reach.
According to the knowledge of the Cultivation circle, there was only one place that was both close and far away at the same time, and that was the small space created by the spatial magic treasure.
Who was this person? How could he possess such a rare magic treasure as the spatial magic treasure?
The deviant practitioner tried his best to suppress the shock in his mind, as he tried to figure out Jing Jiu's identity, wondering if this person was an elder of a famous and large sect.
The Zen sects were good at using the Mustard Seed Magic, but he didn't think Jing Jiu was an eminent monk of the Zen sects. The reason was simple; it was because Jing Jiu had hair, and he didn't think Jing Jiu was the disciple of the Guocheng Temple who experienced the mortal world; how could he avoid the mortal world with such a face?
Jing Jiu moved slightly and arrived at a place one hundred feet away. It seemed that he was about to leave after taking the magic treasure.
Under normal circumstances, the deviant practitioner would let go of the highly achieved swordsmen of the orthodox sects even if their Cultivation states were lower than his; but his magic treasure of life was in Jing Jiu's hands at the moment, and if he could seize the spatial magic treasure, he would even try to kill the elder of the Mysterious Dark Church, to say nothing of the highly achieved swordsmen of the orthodox sects.
A chilly wind suddenly rose, and the deviant practitioner turned into a wisp of black smoke, whizzing toward Jing Jiu.
Jing Jiu's clothes fluttered in the wind. He lightly touched the surface of the lava river, and then flew into the distance, as if he wanted to stop the deviant practitioner's pursuit with the high temperature of the lava.
The deviant practitioner sneered silently, thinking that he had lived beside the underground lava river for more than a hundred years, and it was wishful thinking to use this method to deal with him. With a slight change of his mind, he activated the tactical formation hidden around the cave.
With a boom, the cliff above the cave suddenly collapsed, pressing Jing Jiu into the lava river!
The lava river looked dim, but in fact, it was extremely hot. With a sizzling sound, a ball of flame appeared at the place where Jing Jiu disappeared.
It was strange that Jing Jiu, who had mastered the Netherworld Fairy Sword, would move so slowly, and why didn't he directly use his right hand to break the ground and leave as he did before?
The deviant practitioner glided to the bank of the lava river. Looking at the disappearing ball of flame, he didn't show any happiness on his face, but a hint of worry.
He wasn't worried that killing this person would draw the revenge of those orthodox sects. This was the Cold Mountain, a few miles under the ground; who would know that he was the one who killed this person?
More importantly, that person had been swallowed by the hot lava, and his corpse must have been destroyed. What if his spatial magic treasure was also damaged?
The deviant practitioner waved his sleeve, and a shapeless force came out from nowhere, splitting a gap in the lava river, exposing the bright and scarlet liquid inside.
Boom!!! The bright and scarlet lava suddenly exploded, as if a huge beast had been pierced through, the fresh blood gushing out violently.
A great amount of hot and deadly lava shot toward the deviant practitioner, looking like a dreadful fire waterfall.
The deviant practitioner had been hiding by the lava river for more than one hundred years, so he wouldn't be burned to death so easily. With a grave expression on his face, he took out another magic treasure.
The hot red lava was blocked in front of him, looking like a red jade wall.
The red jade wall was translucent, and a black figure suddenly appeared inside it!
Jing Jiu broke through the wall and charged at the deviant practitioner with a great deal of lava and a bright light.
A hint of surprise and lethal intent flashed in the deviant practitioner's eyes. With a shrill shriek, he slapped at Jing Jiu's head with his hands along with the gloomy and cold black smoke.
Pah!!! The two hands of the deviant practitioner were accurately grabbed by Jing Jiu.
Jing Jiu wielded his sword as soon as he struck.
Even though his Cultivation state was not high enough, it was hard to find someone in Chaotian who could wield the sword faster and more accurately than him.
The deviant practitioner could sense a distinct pain coming from his wrist.
It was his wrist that Jing Jiu had grabbed.
There was a visible wound on his wrist, and it was bleeding profusely.
In particular, his left hand, which was held by Jing Jiu's right hand, was visible to the naked eye, and was on the verge of breaking.
The deviant practitioner's eyes were full of shock and bewilderment, but he still didn't think he would die.
In his eyes, Jing Jiu's Cultivation state was far inferior to his, so it was useless even if Jing Jiu had a magic treasure that could repel the fire.
Enduring the pain in his wrist, he yelled sternly while staring into Jing Jiu's eyes, "Go to …"
More gloomy and cold black smoke came out from his hands along with this stern yell, and it seemed that Jing Jiu would be swallowed by it.
Suddenly, his voice stopped abruptly!
The black smoke vanished without a trace!
Thud!!!
A sword blade suddenly came out from the deviant practitioner's throat.
Even though the sword was stained with blood, it still gave off a lonely and cold feeling.
Jing Jiu looked at the deviant practitioner in Silence, his face devoid of any expression.
The deviant practitioner's expression didn't change either. He still thought he wouldn't lose at the moment.
It was a rare opportunity for him to strike, but he pierced his throat with a sword. Did he think he could kill a Cultivation practitioner this way? Did he think this was a fight between mortals?
It seemed that this person should be an elder of a big sect who had been cultivating in seclusion for many years and rarely came out to travel. It was rare for him to come out, and he had precious spatial magic treasures and fire-taming beads with him. His Cultivation state wasn't weak, but he had no fighting experience. He should really die.
Thinking of these things, the deviant practitioner was about to spit out the Demon Infant.
The Demon Infant was right in front of him.
The Demon Infant could easily enter the opponent's body and swallow the opponent's Yuanying or Sword Ghost.
But the next moment, he found something was wrong.
The Demon Infant didn't enter his mouth.
The Demon Infant might not even have heard his order.
Then, he found that he had lost all feeling in his body.
…
…
For a cultivator, it was not a fatal injury to be pierced through the throat by a sword.
The problem was that the sword was very wide, so wide that one could sit on it without feeling uncomfortable.
It was even wide enough for two people to sit on it. If the two people were in the mood, they could even play a game of chess on it …
The Sword of the Universe was such a sword.
Though the Unicorn had knocked off the sword in the Guocheng Temple and its shape was not as exaggerated as it had been, it was still very wide.
At least, it was much wider than a person's neck.
Therefore, when the Sword of the Universe pierced through a person's throat, it meant that the person's head had been chopped off.
At this moment, the Sword of the Universe was pierced through the deviant practitioner's neck. The surface of the sword completely separated the head from the body. It didn't look like a flying sword at all, but more like a big piece of iron used to cut a person's body in a magic trick.
The deviant practitioner's head fell to the ground, with a frightened and perplexed expression on his face. His body also fell to the ground.
The ground was filled with lava that had come ashore, emitting a suffocating heat.
Even the most powerful cultivators couldn't survive in the lava unless they were in the Heavenly Arrival State. After all, not everybody was as special as Jing Jiu.
But he didn't stop. Who knew if this deviant practitioner had learned any tricks to deal with the lava after hiding by the river of lava for so many years?
The Sword of the Universe hacked down again. At the same time, Jing Jiu pointed at the air with his right hand. The sword wills swept across the underground cave.
The deviant practitioner's head and body were chopped into countless pieces before they fell to the ground.
The Demon Infant, the Demon Wheel, and the Demon Fetus were all chopped into pieces. Then, Jing Jiu flicked his sleeve and sent them into the slowly flowing lava river.
Hundreds of tiny flames emerged on the surface of the lava river.
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