Living In Another World With A Farm Chapter 8393: The war (1)

Weng~! A resounding bell tolled loudly. Following that, the grand entrance to Senluo Palace began to part slowly. Etched across the doors loomed a massive ghostly visage, cleaved straight through its center. One side displayed a cheerful grin, the other a wrathful grimace, amplifying the eerie dread of the spectral image. This notorious ghost head was familiar to all, embodying the dual impulses of benevolence and malice in human hearts, while signifying the dual purpose of bestowing merit on the virtuous and delivering justice to the wicked.

With the entrance swinging wide, a contingent of cultivators burst forth into the air. At their forefront stood an aged figure draped in ebony robes, exuding vast might. The instant he emerged, torrents of devil Qi coiled around his form. The sheer intensity of his demonic aura left every cultivator in the vicinity deeply stirred.

"Amitabha!" A sacred Buddhist invocation echoed from the Blood Buddha Temple. In the next moment, Blood Buddha Ha Jing materialized overhead in the temple's skies. He pressed his palms together in reverence and fixed his gaze on the black-robed elder. "Daoist Jie Tian, long time no see. How have you been?" Though his words offered a polite salutation to the elder, Ha Jing's eyes gleamed with unmistakable trepidation as he regarded the man.

Ha Jing was intimately familiar with this elder. The man's name was Jie Tian, famed as the Sky-Splitting Saber. He reigned as the most formidable expert in the Corpse Demon Sect, bearer of the Corpse-Splitting Saber inheritance. His mastery of the Corpse-Splitting Saber arts proved overwhelmingly potent. Ha Jing had dueled him once in the past, resulting in a deadlock. Across the many years since, Jie Tian's saber prowess had sharpened further. Even though Ha Jing's Nine-Word Mantra Palm Print had advanced as well, he harbored no certainty of emerging victorious. Against an adversary of such caliber, he refused to lower his guard.

Jie Tian regarded Ha Jing with steady composure and replied, "That’s right. We haven’t seen each other for more than a hundred years. Ha Jing, you’re still as elegant as ever. I heard that you’ve already found a successor for your great incantation handprint. It’s truly worthy of congratulations." While uttering these words, he cast a sidelong look toward Zhao Hai, a trace of jealousy flickering in his gaze.

When powerhouses like them attained such heights, beyond the pursuit of Ascension, their greatest concern became the perpetuation of their personal lineages. True, both Jie Tian's Corpse Cleaver and Ha Jing's Great Hand Seal of Truth stemmed from ancestral teachings, yet at their level, each had infused these techniques with profound personal insights. Naturally, they yearned for their unique paths to endure through worthy successors. Jie Tian commanded numerous disciples, yet none had grasped the true core of his Corpse Cleaver. Not even among the rising generation did such a talent appear, filling him with profound regret.

Jie Tian had caught wind long ago of Zhao Hai's meteoric rise within the Blood Slaughter Sect, where he had claimed Ha Jing's mantle and mastered the Mantra Palm. In truth, Zhao Hai stood as the ideal heir to this art. It was no wonder Jie Tian envied him so intensely, hence the envious stare he directed at Zhao Hai.

Ha Jing offered a warm smile and responded, "I believe that fellow Daoist Jie Tian will be able to find a suitable disciple for you. There is no hurry. It is time now. Can we start?" The other Ha Jing had no desire to linger in idle talk. With the appointed hour arrived, they could commence the clashes without delay.

Jie Tian chuckled lightly and said, "It has been so many years, but your temper has not changed. Alright, the time is up. Let’s begin. The order of appearance will be decided by both sides. We will not interfere. Fellow Daoist Ha Jing, I have some new spiritual tea here. Why don’t we have a taste of it together?"

Ha Jing eyed Jie Tian and burst into laughter, "It’s not appropriate for us to get too involved in the affairs of the younger generation. I’ve also obtained some spirit wine and spirit food. I’d like to invite you to have a good taste." Upon finishing his words, the two silhouettes blurred and vanished from sight. Once they departed, the island master-tier powerhouses from either faction held back as well. Clearly, for this exchange, they entrusted the choices to the core disciples on both sides.

Zhao Hai naturally assumed command for the Blood Slaughter Sect. This role had been expressly assigned to him by Ha Jing. While others might surpass Zhao Hai in pure cultivation rank, none could claim superior battle prowess over him. Precisely for this reason, Zhao Hai emerged as the unchallenged head among the core disciples.

Upon witnessing Ha Jing's departure, Zhao Hai grasped his responsibilities fully. He turned to the assembled group before him and suddenly grinned, "I, the blood hangman, am the arena Master. I naturally can’t let others laugh at me. Which senior brother is willing to take the lead?" Zhao Hai's voice carried modestly, yet it reached the ears of everyone from both factions and the spectators alike with crystal clarity. Especially his hearty laugh ignited fervor in all hearts. The Blood Slaughter Sect disciples felt a surge of hot blood coursing through their veins. Without hesitation, voices rang out: "I’ll do it!" This unified cry erupted from hundreds at once, unleashing a sky-high wave of slaughter intent.

The encircling spectators froze in awe at this erupting killing aura. Weaker cultivators among them paled involuntarily. They had never crossed blades with the Blood Slaughter Sect personally, relying only on tales of their ferocious strength and insatiable bloodlust. Lacking firsthand experience, but now they sensed it raw and real.

Zhao Hai swept his eyes over the Blood Slaughter Sect cultivators and chuckled. "Don’t worry, everyone. Take it slow. We all have a chance. Senior brother Fu Ling, I’ll invite you to fight the first battle." Zhao Hai addressed a towering figure amid the throng.

This warrior, Fu Ling, ranked as a core disciple of the Blood Slaughter Sect too. He towered imposingly, built like an iron tower amid lesser men, akin to a crane among chickens. He had been among those clamoring for battle. At Zhao Hai's summons, a broad grin split his face as he boomed, "Good. Junior Brother Zhao Hai, you have good eyes. Let’s see how this battle goes." With that, he leaped forward, materializing in the empty void. Simultaneously, he flicked his wrist, summoning a massive blade into his grip. The weapon gleamed crimson, yet its scale was immense—roughly four feet in length and almost a foot across, resembling a slab of iron in his hold.

Gripping the saber, Fu Ling radiated even greater valor. He bellowed toward the sect cultivators opposite, "Fu Ling is here, who dares to come and fight?" A ferocious killing intent billowed from him alongside his shout. The combined menace of man and blade pierced the heavens, evoking the presence of a infernal deity. Such a commanding presence alone daunted countless foes.

Regrettably, his opponents this time were no mere mortals. They consisted of premier disciples from myriad sects. Each was a sect favorite, brimming with pride and defiance. How could they cower before Fu Ling? Thus, one immediately vaulted forward with a derisive huff. "I’ll fight you."

Fu Ling eyed the challenger and sneered, "You’re from the Yin Yang Sect, right? Since you’re from Yin Yang Sect, then I’m sorry. You must die in my hands today. However, I, Fu Ling, don’t kill nameless ghosts. Tell me your name and let Grandpa see whether you’re worth my killing!"

At Fu Ling's taunt, the Yin Yang Sect cultivator sneered in return. "Fu Ling, I’ve heard of you. I heard that you have another nickname, the tyrannical blood saber. Hahaha, you really dare to boast. Tyrannical blood saber? Today, I want to see how you can dominate the heavens. Listen well, I will never change my name. I am Xiong Baoshan. Fellow Daoists in the blood sea realm here call me mountain river fist. I wonder if I am qualified to fight you?"

Upon hearing Xiong Baoshan's self-introduction, Fu Ling's face grew solemn. He recognized the moniker of Mountain River Fist. Though affiliated with the Yin Yang Sect, this foe shunned illusory spells, toxic arts, or yin-draining methods. Instead, he pursued the Yin Yang Sutra cultivation path. His Mountain River Fist enjoyed renown within the Yin Yang Sect, marking him as one of its standout core disciples. Fu Ling hadn't anticipated that this strikingly handsome opponent would turn out to be the famed Xiong Baoshan.

A reputation preceded its bearer like a tree's shade. The moment Fu Ling learned his rival's identity, any trace of disdain evaporated. He understood that anyone carving a legend in the Yin Yang Sect possessed undeniable strength. How could he still underestimate him? Thus, adopting a grave demeanor, he stared at Xiong Baoshan. "Xiong Baoshan of mountain and river fist, I’ve not imagined that it’s you. Speaking of which, there are not many people in Yin Yang sect that I think highly of, but you’re one of them. Although you’re from Yin Yang sect, you don’t do the thing of Yin absorption, which really makes me admire you. It’s my honor to fight with you. However, I’ll defeat you today and let you know the power of me, Batian." With those words, he hoisted the enormous door-like saber aloft, its tip aimed squarely at Xiong Baoshan. An aura of domineering blade intent radiated from his frame, making him appear to swell in stature, towering like a demonic overlord spanning the cosmos.

Seeing Fu Ling's battle stance, Xiong Baoshan's features tightened briefly. But he quickly huffed coldly and declared, "The great Dao of our Yin Yang sect isn’t something that a mere core disciple like you can mess with. Today, I’d like to see how powerful your BA Dao is." He then balled his fists into a ready pose. His stance was peculiar: left fist forward, knuckles tight yet palm outward-facing; right fist pulled back near his ear, palm turned rearward—an odd configuration indeed.

Yet as he assumed this form, a formidable energy surged from his being. This presence lacked overt aggression but carried an immense weight, evoking the unyielding stability of a mountain peak. Meanwhile, his gaze locked onto Fu Ling, poised to unleash a devastating strike at the slightest opening.

As for the spectators, they gasped in surprise upon recognizing the combatants' names. These weren't obscure figures; they were renowned powerhouses across the Blood Sea Realm. Among the younger core disciples of the Blood Slaughter Sect and Yin Yang Sect, these two stood out prominently. Their fame predated even Zhao Hai's ascent. Both had now ascended to the eighth layer of the Spell Essence Realm. Just one more stride would propel them to the ninth layer, opening the gateway to the Spell Refinement Realm. Countless onlookers knew of them. No one had foreseen such luminaries clashing in the opening bout. This ignited thrill among the crowd. Had either side fielded unknowns, the spectacle might have paled. Even among the top ten sects, celebrated disciples were far outnumbered by the anonymous masses. But a duel between stars like these? It stirred uncontainable excitement.