Before that berserk divine energy could land in the courtyard, the wind arrived ahead of it.
The howling winds stirred up the yellow sand on the ground and threw it in all directions. It was like they had arrived on a wasteland.
The Demon Lord stood in this sky of yellow sand, his eyes extremely gloomy and his face extremely pale.
Not out of fear, but because in an extremely short amount of time, his blood had begun to boil and fiercely blaze.
An extremely cold and thick Qi surged out of his demon body and into the sky.
His black hair scattered behind him, wildly dancing in the wind like thousands of snakes.
The demon robe glowed with a dim light, its surface seeming to be burning with a flame without any heat.
As the cold flames spread, the demonic aura quickly enveloped half of the courtyard with the single tree as the center.
The clearest sign was that night had descended upon the courtyard.
This night was cold, brimming with the Qi of silence and darkness, representing the most austere and callous order.
But this light energy was warm, even scorching. Other than the divine, it also possessed the Qi of boundlessly active life.
This courtyard adjacent to the Xiang clan estate was not small, but it was not even worth mentioning when compared to these two majestic Qis.
In an instant, the entire courtyard was occupied by these two Qis.
One side was the endless night.
The other was the endless light.
And then they met.
Logically speaking, when these two diametrically opposed Qis met, it should have resulted in a spectacular spectacle that would rend the heavens and rend the earth.
But this spectacle did not occur. On the contrary, everything was quiet, even peaceful.
Even the fish swimming in the stream beneath the cliff outside the courtyard were unaffected.
But the sheep on the mountain slope looked up at the sky in confusion, confused as to why noon and night would appear at the same time.
These two Qis were the purest Qis in the world.
The source of this grandeur was the smallest difference in the essence of matter.
The true contest took place in the smallest places, like a grain of yellow sand or a gust of cold wind.
At least in the short term, it was very difficult to see any grandeur.
But this did not mean true peace.
The dangers hidden in the most minute places, once seen, were highly likely to result in destruction.
Chen Changsheng knew this, as did Linghai Zhiwang and the others, but they did not care, because the power of light clearly held the advantage.
But they did not understand why the Demon Lord had chosen this method of response. Did he think that his demon arts could contend against the Li Palace's grand array?
There was the cry of a crane.
The White Crane was an immortal bird, and its divine sense was extremely powerful. It sensed the danger and flapped its wings to fly away.
There was a sound of the zither.
Hugging the zither, the blind zither player lightly pushed off the ground with his feet and flew several dozen zhang away, his sleeves fluttering in the wind.
The sound of the zither suddenly became louder, as if it was tearing silk.
A crack was torn in the darkness of the courtyard.
The Qi of light exuded by the Li Palace's grand array revolved around his body.
From afar, he looked like a red-crowned crane that had flown into the netherworld.
He was no longer a passerby enjoying his retirement in Wenshui City, nor was he a walking corpse with a heart as wooden as withered wood.
He was the Grand Elder of the Longevity Sect from a hundred years ago, the one with extraordinary talent, profound cultivation, and terrifying battle prowess.
The sound of the guqin rang out again.
Dozens of invisible waves followed his fingers and left the zither strings, vibrating in all directions.
The edge of the night had already been torn open, and now it was pulled even wider by the invisible sound of the zither.
As night fell, the Demon Lord's figure rapidly blurred as if he was about to disappear into the darkness.
Everyone was well aware that even though the Li Palace's grand array was complete, once the Demon Lord entered the darkness, it would require even more effort to force him out.
Most importantly, it would definitely consume even more time.
No one knew the final victor between the White Emperor and Madam Mu, and no one knew if the victor would stop the Orthodoxy from killing the Demon Lord.
They had to hurry.
Of the human experts outside the courtyard, the blind zither player was unquestionably the strongest.
Thus, his reaction was also the fastest.
As the zither notes fell, the darkness began to fade and the Demon Lord's blurry figure once more became somewhat clearer.
Several dozen extremely thin rays of light flashed through the Demon Lord's pupils.
These were the projections of the invisible zither notes in his mind.
And then, ten-some black dots appeared in his pupils.
These were the projections of pitch-black shields in his eyes.
Countless sharp and concentrated sounds of cutting could be heard.
Ten-some pitch-black shields rapidly revolved around the Demon Lord's body, leaving no gaps.
The invisible zither notes and the attacks of the blind zither player were all blocked by the black shields.
Several hundred spatial fissures appeared on the surface of the shields and then vanished.
The flying sand, painted black by the darkness, drifted to the shields and was quickly cut into even finer powder.
Several cries of alarm came from outside the courtyard.
"The Seventeen Netherworld Armors!"
… …
… …
As the master of the northern continent, the Demon Lord naturally had something to rely on for daring to come alone to White Emperor City.
He might even have many demon artifacts like the Seventeen Netherworld Armors, which were on par with divine artifacts.
The blind zither player was unsurprised. Bringing with him countless rays of light, he continued to attack.
The Demon Lord's expression did not change as he watched his opponent break through the darkness. He stretched out his hand and took a sword from the darkness.
This sword was pitch-black and gave off no edge, but it seemed to be able to suck in all gazes and all light.
There were no cries of alarm.
Those who recognized this sword were so shocked that they couldn't speak.
The Setting Sun Sword.
This was the sword of the previous Demon Lord.
This sword had once seen the Halving Blade and the Frost God Spear outside Luoyang.
Compared to this sword, Nanke's Southern Cross Sword was nothing at all.
Compared to this sword, the Seventeen Netherworld Armors were so dim.
… …
… …
The Setting Sun Sword slashed down.
The darkness seemed to follow the Demon Lord's action, descending several hundred zhang.
An unimaginable pressure descended upon the blind zither player from above.
Chen Changsheng did not know if the blind zither player could resist the power of this legendary demon sword, nor did he need to know.
When the Demon Lord attacked, Chen Changsheng also attacked.
His right hand still gripped the Orthodoxy's Divine Staff, presiding over the Li Palace's array, suppressing the darkness and preventing the Demon Lord from escaping.
He did not need to grip the hilt of his sword. With just a thought, countless swords shot out.
More than seven hundred famed swords howled out of the Vault Sheath, instantly traversing a distance of several hundred zhang to attack the Demon Lord.
Today, he wanted to kill the Demon Lord, so he naturally used his strongest technique.
Awe-Inspiring sword intent pierced through the world, seemingly wanting to pierce through light and darkness.
The seven hundred-some swords reflected the light, connected end to end as they surged forward with an indomitable momentum.
In the Garden of Zhou, he had once used the technique of ten thousand swords forming a dragon.
After that, for various reasons, he was no longer able to use such a powerful sword style.
But today, his sword already had some of the feeling and power of that sword from back then.
Countless sounds of metal scraping against each other rang out in the gloomy darkness.
The seven hundred-some sword intents cut through everything in the world, several times sharper than the zither notes of the blind zither player.
Even the blind zither player himself was forced to temporarily retreat to the side, waiting for this torrential rain of sword intents to descend.
Countless fragments shot out in all directions, countless tiny and unfathomably deep holes appearing in the ground.
The closest wall was even silently reduced to fragments that were blown away by the wind, leaving no trace behind.
Both the sound and the scene were so bizarre that it made one's hair stand on end.
After a while, the storm of seven hundred swords came to a temporary halt.
The black armor around the Demon Lord had already disappeared.
The legendary demon artifact, the Seventeen Netherworld Armors, had been destroyed. (To be continued.)
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