Chapter 545: Crushing Power, Tianyuan Sword Talisman

Now, the words Situ Yang had spoken were nothing more than a bid for fame.

This duel was not just about winning. He also wanted a name for himself.

In his mind, Wei Tu was a stepping stone to spread his reputation far and wide.

“But as it happens, I think the same.”

Wei Tu smiled faintly and answered in front of Situ Yang and all the cultivators watching.

The words dropped like a stone into a still lake, stirring waves everywhere.

The hall burst into commotion. None of the spectators thought Wei Tu wise. To provoke Situ Yang so openly was reckless.

Everyone understood that since Wei Tu dared to challenge him, he must have some confidence. But the key problem was this—Situ Yang was not only himself. He represented Shengya Mountain.

When facing Shengya Mountain, bowing one’s head was the norm. There was no need to clash head-on like this.

Even if Wei Tu won, there would be no good outcome for him.

—No matter how strong, against true power, one should bend a little.

Before the might of Shengya Mountain, Wei Tu, though no mere ant, still couldn’t be counted among the real strong.

“A Nascent Soul at just four hundred years old… Wei Tu’s path has been too smooth. He’s lacked proper lessons.”

“Such arrogance will cost him dearly.”

Some old Nascent Soul cultivators sighed softly, taking the chance to lecture their juniors with lessons from their own lives.

But just as they were indulging themselves in moralizing, they were forced into silence.

For in the very next instant, Wei Tu and Situ Yang had already clashed—and Wei Tu’s strength far exceeded their expectations.

From the very start, Situ Yang had been forced into retreat, nearly on the edge of defeat.

Strength spoke louder than anything.

Those earlier “wise teachings” suddenly sounded hollow, almost laughable, and lost much of their weight.

Some younger Nascent Soul cultivators, after witnessing this, even raised doubts.

“If things have already gone this far, why should Wei Tu give face to Shengya Mountain?”

The elders fell silent, unable to answer.

They could hardly admit that just hearing the name “Shengya Mountain” was enough to stir fear and the urge to appease. Naturally, they couldn’t see from Wei Tu’s point of view.

…

“How can this be?”

“His strength… it’s this overwhelming?”

On the training field of Earth Sword Mountain, Situ Yang floated in the air, his blood and qi surging, shock flashing in his eyes as he stared at the “Koi Dragon Yin Blade” relentlessly pursuing him.

The blade was unpredictable, fast as lightning, and carried a crushing force that assaulted his very soul.

So far, Wei Tu had only used this one technique, and already Situ Yang was battered, barely able to defend himself.

This was nothing like what he had expected.

Forget winning in a hundred moves—at this point, lasting even ten without losing seemed like a blessing.

‘No! Not right! This soul blade… it must be his strongest move. By reason, mastering such a secret art within a hundred years is already his limit.’

Situ Yang muttered in his heart, trying to steady his resolve.

Between cultivators, there were differences in talent, realm, comprehension, resources.

But one thing was always the same—time set the limits.

Situ Yang could not believe, would not believe, that in just over a century Wei Tu had advanced so far that he utterly crushed him.

The only explanation was that Wei Tu had revealed his strongest trump card at the start.

‘As long as I endure this strike, when he weakens… that’s when I’ll turn the tide.’

Even as he thought this, Situ Yang condensed a shield of talismanic light, desperately blocking the Yin Blade while retreating, seeking a chance to strike back.

“There it is!”

A moment later his eyes lit up. His hands flew through seals, and in an instant he vanished like a streak of light.

In the next heartbeat, he reappeared beside Wei Tu. His right arm swept out, and behind him a great dharma wheel spun into existence, scattering countless radiant arrows like falling stars.

Each arrow gleamed silver, brimming with power no weaker than a fourth-tier low-grade talisman weapon.

But Wei Tu, instead of dodging, only stood still as if stunned, watching the storm of arrows close in.

“Light Escape Technique?”

Wei Tu raised his brows, interest flickering across his face.

The Light Escape was a rare and little-known movement art in the cultivation world, so obscure many had never even heard of it.

It rivaled the famed Lightning Escape and Wind Escape, and in some ways surpassed them.

From his judgment, Situ Yang’s spirit root affinity was for “light,” a common natural energy. After stepping into Nascent Soul, it had naturally given rise to the Light Escape Technique.

“But it’s still just a spirit body. I’ve seen many spirit-body Nascent Souls.”

“Not nearly enough to bridge the gulf between our strengths.”

Wei Tu’s expression stayed calm. His figure blurred, and in the instant the radiant arrows fell, he ghosted to Situ Yang’s side.

Then he struck out with a single punch into empty air.

“Pu!”

Situ Yang was hurled back like he’d been hit by lightning, blood spraying from his mouth.

The sky was painted red.

This scene left every cultivator present stunned.

“Fourth-tier body refiner?”

“He’s a fourth-tier body refiner? A Nascent Soul with both Dao and body cultivation?” Shock rippled through the crowd.

After all, compared to a Nascent Soul on the Immortal Dao, a fourth-tier body refiner was far rarer in the Great Cang cultivation world.

But now, there was no denying it.

It was clear. Precisely because Wei Tu cultivated both Dao and body, Situ Yang’s spirit-body Nascent Soul had no way to resist him.

A spirit-body Nascent Soul was stronger than 99% of ordinary Nascent Souls, in both talent and combat power.

Yet, a dual-path cultivator like Wei Tu was the exception—an existence truly unmatched at the same level.

“Fourth-tier body refiner…”

Situ Yang coughed blood, stunned. He hadn’t expected that once again, he would lose to Wei Tu’s body strength.

Last time, on Shengya Mountain’s Shen Du Island, Wei Tu, with just a third-tier body refinement at mid-stage, had already beaten him across realms.

Now… it was the same again.

‘How did Master’s Purple Light Dharma Eye see this wrong?’

Situ Yang seethed. If not for his teacher Lian Shourang’s faulty “intel,” even if he lost today, he wouldn’t be this humiliated.

His tactics would have been entirely different. He would never have allowed Wei Tu to bring his body strength into play.

But Situ Yang didn’t know—

Even if Wei Tu hadn’t revealed his body cultivation, and only fought him as an “early Nascent Soul,” he still would have been utterly defeated.

Wei Tu’s secret arts were already at mid-Nascent Soul level. Against early Nascent Soul cultivators, every one of them was overwhelming.

Showing his body cultivation was simply to make the victory more palatable to everyone watching.

“No! I still have a chance. I can still force a draw!”

Situ Yang gritted his teeth, steadied himself, and hastily swallowed a reddish-brown pill.

His goal was no longer to defeat Wei Tu within a hundred moves. It was to fight him to a draw, to protect Shengya Mountain’s reputation as the righteous leader.

After all, losing to a dual-path Nascent Soul while being a spirit-body wasn’t shameful.

But being crushed in just a few moves—that would make him a laughingstock.

Such disgrace would stain his name even past his lifespan, never washing clean.

Soon, with the pill’s power, his battered body quickly mended, his face regaining color.

Wei Tu noticed, but didn’t care.

He knew at once—it had to be a recovery pill Shengya Mountain prepared specially for this duel.

Its grade wasn’t beyond mid-fourth-tier, so it didn’t violate their agreed rules.

“Situ Yang,” Wei Tu said coolly, “I’ll say this now. If you don’t yield soon, next time I won’t give you the chance… to swallow another pill.”

If this had been a real battlefield instead of a formal duel, the moment Situ Yang reached for medicine, Wei Tu would have ended him.

With his battle experience, he would never have left such an opening.

Situ Yang stayed silent.

He knew it was shameful, but compared to the price of defeat, what was a little dishonor?

“Tianyuan Sacred Art!”

Situ Yang roared. His crown slipped off, hair bursting loose, robes fluttering without wind. An overwhelming aura surged from him.

Behind him, his dharma wheel turned golden and purple.

Then he slapped his crown chakra, and a tiny figure, identical to him, flew out of his body and merged with the wheel.

In the next moment, the fused wheel flashed and transformed into a golden longsword, over ten feet long.

Its blade gleamed with golden-purple light, covered in countless glowing runes.

“Situ Yang’s going all out!”

The spectators’ faces paled as they felt the sword’s aura.

They knew—if struck even once, their lifeforce would be crippled, their lives in peril.

“Yang’er’s Tianyuan Sword Talisman. He may not defeat Wei Tu, but he can at least wound him heavily, maybe force a draw.”

High above Earth Sword Mountain, Lian Shourang appeared in the air. His eyes glowed violet as he watched the battlefield, calmly commenting.