Wait, How Did My Digital Girlfriend Become a Sword Immortal? Chapter 860: Please Call the Execution Platform

A single step.

With just that one step, he breached the divide between life and death, escaping the fatal thunderous confinement.

Yet he didn't venture distant.

Positioned beyond the siege, he turned his back on the thirty-six Thunder Generals, their faces twisted in alarm amid the formation's rebound.

The breeze caught the ragged edges of his robe.

Chen Huaian turned around deliberately.

The gaze in his eyes underwent a transformation.

Gone was the intoxicated air of a rogue scholar—instead, the apathy of a tiller regarding mere grass.

The blade in his grasp gradually extended straight ahead.

From the Nine Heavens above, heavenly melodies surged in frenzy.

Horizontally, the sword edge advanced.

No radiance from the sword appeared, no keening from the blade resounded.

This strike proved as ordinary and unembellished as an autumn gust over barren fields.

Yet to those thirty-six Thunder Generals, it morphed into the full cosmos.

All within heaven and earth dissolved, surviving only that perpetually widening, wanly pale autumn gale.

Facing that autumn gale, their vaunted violet-gold heavy armor, their elevated Divine Positions, even their immortal forms honed across ten thousand years...

Everything turned as base and frail as roadside weeds.

Whoosh—

The gale swept past.

The blade came to rest.

Clack—!

Chen Huaian returned his sword to its sheath, positioned now behind the thirty-six Thunder Generals.

Heaven and earth fell into utter stillness.

Eons seemed to elapse, or perhaps merely a heartbeat transpired.

Crack.

The initial sharp noise emerged.

A slender fissure cracked the violet-gold brow guard atop one Thunder General's forehead.

Without delay.

Plop, plop, plop…

A continuous chain of muted thuds, resembling overripe fruits tumbling from limbs.

Thirty-six heads rolled simultaneously into the dirt, in the most abject stance of their existences.

No blood spurted.

For the sword's "intent" had already purged their bodily vitality entirely before the heads even touched ground, akin to an autumn wind whisking away dead leaves.

Bodies scattered everywhere, a solitary figure endured.

Chen Huaian perched upon the heap of remains, sparing the corpses not a single look.

Treating his recent kills as naught but worthless grass and straw.

Thirty-six Thunder Generals, eradicated.

Boom—

Chen Huaian drew in a profound breath, channeling the Heavenly Demon Art.

Thirty-six flows of pristine Thunder Ministry Immortal Power poured into him, akin to countless rivers merging into the sea.

His presence erupted anew, the freshly forged True Immortal Golden Body blazed more brilliantly, subtly radiating the aura of a "Celestial Immortal."

In the distance, the Four Heavenly Kings—overseers from afar without chance to act—now wore ashen visages, expressions of total despair.

Those were the Thunder Ministry's cream of the crop!

United in array, even a Great Luo Golden Immortal would evade their edge.

But against this freshly ascended "mortal Sword Cultivator," they fell utterly in the blink of an eye—quicker than brewing tea—hacked apart like produce!

Vaiśravaṇa, Mo Li Hong, bellowed. The Primordial Chaos Pearl Umbrella in his grip bloomed fully, eclipsing the firmament. "This brat is demonic and evil! Fighting alone is no match! Join forces to suppress him!"

Virūḍhaka, Mo Li Qing, gnashed his teeth. He proffered the Azure Cloud Sword, which dissolved into a torrent of countless blades.

Dhṛtarāṣṭra, Mo Li Hai, plucked the jasper lute, summoning earth, water, fire, and wind in concert.

Virūpākṣa, Mo Li Shou, unleashed the Purple-Gold Flower-Fox Marten, which ballooned into a sky-engulfing behemoth.

The Four Heavenly Kings struck as one, their sacred artifacts manifesting supreme Divine Abilities.

Momentarily, before the South Heaven Gate, tempests raged and clouds twisted; myriad devastating Law cascades hurtled at Chen Huaian, set to engulf him wholly.

Nevertheless.

Chen Huaian refused to budge.

He calmly beheld the onrushing devastations, the savagery in his eyes slowly ebbing, overtaken by profound chill.

Deliberately, he hoisted the thunder sword clutched in his hand.

This instance, no poetry flowed from his lips.

As this sword craved no verse.

It solely demanded... shattering.

—Immortal-Slaying Sword-Drawing Art · Third Realm · Shatter the Dao Fruit.

Zheng—!!!

An indescribable sword radiance blazed forth.

Lacking any vivid hues, it embodied an ultimate purity of "annihilation" intent.

Wherever the sword light swept.

The Azure Cloud sword rain fragmented apart.

Earth, water, fire, wind—all scattered into nothingness.

The Flower-Fox Marten let out a single screech before being split in half.

A massive tear ripped through the Primordial Chaos Pearl Umbrella, stripping away every trace of its spiritual essence.

"Pfft—!!"

Golden blood erupted from the mouths of the Four Heavenly Kings at once, their faces turning ashen. With their treasures destroyed, the fierce backlash struck them down with grievous wounds.

"This... what kind of sword technique is this?!"

Across a hundred cycles of reincarnation, he had never encountered such a horrifying sword technique.

During those hundred cycles of reincarnation, plenty of Sword Cultivators like the man facing them had risen to challenge the heavens, yet all stayed firmly under their grasp—they permitted the ascent, and up those figures climbed; they demanded the descent, and down those figures crashed into mortal dust.

But this lone swordsman before them had utterly escaped their dominion.

Mo Li Qing gripped his chest tightly, terror flooding his gaze.

This strike hadn't merely rent their treasures—it had severed the Dao Fruits inside their bodies too!

Their cultivation base drained away wildly!

Chen Huaian towered over the corpse mound resembling a mountain.

One foot planted on a Thunder General's helmet, long sword gripped and angled toward the Lingxiao Treasure Hall, golden blood still trickling from its tip.

His eyes, blending demon and immortal, bored through the stacked immortal clouds to fix on the four quaking Heavenly Kings.

"Any other tricks?"

Chen Huaian's tone stayed soft, but it plunged the Four Heavenly Kings into bone-chilling cold.

"If not..."

One step advanced, his killing intent crashing like an ocean wave.

"Then This Venerable One will send you on your way."

"Wait."

Vaiśravaṇa, Mo Li Hong's voice sharpened abruptly, resembling a cornered beast's snarl.

That desperation hinted at a reckless, do-or-die frenzy.

He presented a jet-black command arrow.

Lacking any sheen, the arrow bore only frigid blood-qi amassed over millennia. Upon its emergence, it swallowed even the ambient light.

He flung it savagely toward the emptiness.

"Request... the Immortal-Slaying Platform!!"

Boom—

A colossal rift tore across the heavens.

A sickening rusty odor invaded their nostrils—the congealed blood of Divine Immortals from ages past.

Sky and clouds twisted suddenly, drenching the air in crimson rain.

A grand, blood-red execution platform of indeterminate height, spanning tens of thousands of zhang, gradually emerged from the void's gash.

Its weight was immense.

Immense enough to warp the laws, immense enough to make the South Heaven Gate ruins groan in agony.

Mottled across its surface, the dark red divine iron held no ornate flourishes, merely innumerable gashes and chops of diverse depths.

Each scar marked a formerly haughty, peerless True Immortal who met their end here.

Immortal souls wailed, murderous aura surged.

This was no lifeless relic.

This stood as the [Torture Instrument] the Celestial Court wielded to intimidate all worlds and uphold its millennial reign.

It embodied the "rules" looming over every cultivator's head.

Against this crushing pressure that could crumble a Dao Heart, Chen Huaian stood unmoving.

His robes whipped fiercely in the sanguine gale.

Eyes narrowing faintly, he scrutinized the colossal structure.

His look held no dread of a deathly tool that might incinerate him, but rather the glee of a meticulous smith spotting the perfect anvil.

His tongue darted out, lapping the blood at his lip's edge.

Bloody, yet sweet.

The divine sword he held vibrated eagerly, detecting a kindred presence, as a dragon's thrilled cry resounded.

"What a fine Immortal-Slaying Platform."

Chen Huaian let out a laugh.

A light, icy laugh, laced with savage hubris that trampled the firmament.

"Just as well."

"This Venerable One's sword..."

His sword lifted high, aimed squarely at the obsidian Immortal-Slaying Platform.

"... still lacks this whetstone!"