Wait, How Did My Digital Girlfriend Become a Sword Immortal? Chapter 878: The Middle Corpse Returns to Position

Chapter 878: The Middle Corpse Returns to Position

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Question the sword?

Chen Huaian's mouth twitched.

"Didn't we agree on one round to decide victory? First you question the Dao, now you question the sword. After the literary duel comes the martial duel...

If questioning the sword doesn't work, will you next question knives, spears, clubs, axes...? This Venerable One doesn't have that much time to play with you. The situation on Earth Star is urgent; the time left for us is not much."

"Why the hurry?" The middle corpse's lips curled into a faint smile. "Feeling that time is short is merely your personal perception. You feel as if the cycle of reincarnation is about to end, and the next cycle is about to begin?

Indeed, without external intervention, you have at most half a year left.

A mere half a year. Even if you attain the strength of a Sage, before the Celestial God Clan, you would still be nothing but a slightly larger ant, still easily crushed underfoot."

Listening to the middle corpse's meaning... the strength of that Celestial God Clan was far, far greater than beings of Taishang Laojun's level.

"So what? Where is this external force and time you speak of?"

The middle corpse stood up. "What if... two worlds are about to merge?"

"Two worlds? The Cangyun Realm and Earth Star?" Chen Huaian was stunned.

"Correct." The middle corpse nodded. "If the two realms merge, the Celestial God Clan's attention will be entirely focused on the Cangyun Realm. All talk of reincarnation, of fate, will be completely rewritten in that instant. Their constant opening of reincarnation cycles is for the sake of obtaining the power to ascend to higher dimensions, isn't it?

Compared to the Cangyun Realm, what are Earth Star's meager resources worth?

They will become even more greedy, wanting to obtain the entire Cangyun Great World!

At that time, a brutal war will erupt between the two worlds, and this..."

His gaze fell upon Chen Huaian, the corner of his mouth hooking up. "...is your opportunity!"

Chen Huaian opened his mouth, wanting to ask more.

But the middle corpse was no longer looking at him.

That white-robed figure simply stood there quietly, yet the aura around him changed.

He was no longer human.

Not even a god anymore.

He had become a ruler, a law, an insurmountable "rule."

"This place has no cultivation, no realms."

The middle corpse raised his hand, palm facing upward, not holding a sword, yet it was as if an invisible cage, stern and impregnable, had been erected between heaven and earth.

"We discuss only... the Sword Dao."

The wind stopped.

Not a natural cessation, but forcibly suppressed by some more powerful order.

Chen Huaian was silent for a moment, then suddenly laughed.

He casually reached out and grabbed at the empty air.

Sand and grit gathered, rust-stained.

A notched iron sword, ugly, appeared in his palm.

"Please."

Without any warning.

The middle corpse moved.

Or rather, the "rule" before him pressed down.

The sword emerged.

This sword thrust was square, vast, seamless.

There was no sword light, only a suffocating "reason."

Like a gentleman standing in the imperial court, pointing out strategies; like the warp and weft dividing heaven and earth, allowing not the slightest deviation.

Chen Huaian narrowed his eyes.

The middle corpse's Sword Dao was the doctrine of the mean.

Impartial, neither excessive nor deficient.

Just like during their earlier debate on the Dao—stuffy, old-fashioned, the same old tune.

This sword was unavoidable, because no matter where one dodged, it was within this "rule."

So he did not dodge.

He hefted that broken iron sword, his body swaying as if drunk.

"Do you not see—"

He murmured in a low voice, the sword tip lifting from below without any discernible technique.

Yet this lift carried an extreme, unrestrained sorrow, like the waters of the Yellow River descending from the heavens, rushing to the sea never to return.

That was Li Taibai's wildness, his pride and freedom.

The waters of the great river were meant to wash away this stern embankment!

*Clang!*

Two swords met.

The sound wasn't crisp, but dull, like a heavy hammer striking the chest.

Chen Huaian's tiger's mouth split open, blood instantly staining the hilt red.

The middle corpse's sword was too steady, steady as a mountain, unmovable no matter the assault.

"Too scattered."

The middle corpse's wrist turned slightly, the sword stance changing.

What was a mountain a moment ago now became a net.

An airtight sword net, each line cutting through space, forcibly intercepting, diverting, and drying up Chen Huaian's "great river."

"Your sword has emotion, hatred, regret."

The middle corpse stepped forward, the tip of his sword pointing precisely at the sluggish, obstructed points in the flow of Chen Huaian's Sword Intent.

"The sword is a weapon of slaughter. It should be pure and flawless."

*Ssssh!*

A deep gash appeared on Chen Huaian's right arm, bone visible.

He grunted, but the iron sword followed the momentum and turned, carving out a mournful arc.

"My dappled horse, my furs worth a thousand..."

Sword Qi spilled forth like wine.

But the middle corpse merely took a light step sideways, positioning himself at the sole blind spot of that spilled Sword Intent.

Precise as a textbook.

He stood within the rules of the sword.

Therefore, all sword techniques were within his control.

*Ssssh! Ssssh! Ssssh!*

In the blink of an eye, over a dozen bloody gashes appeared on Chen Huaian's body.

He was like a barbarian, clumsy and helpless before a precise machine.

All his wildness, all his unruliness, were dismembered and shattered before absolute reason and rules.

Blood dripped from the hem of his clothes, blooming into glaring red plum blossoms in the pure white space.

The middle corpse stopped his sword, its tip not even stained with a trace of blood.

"This is your Sword Dao? Only the courage of a brute?

The Sword Dao is different from one's state of mind. Courage without strategy is courting death."

Chen Huaian gasped for breath.

He wiped the blood obscuring his vision, looking at the spotless figure opposite him.

Too perfect.

Perfect to the point of despair.

But precisely because of that perfection...

Chen Huaian grinned, revealing blood-stained teeth, his smile ferocious.

"Pure?"

He gripped the notched iron sword tightly with both hands, his body lowering, no longer resembling a swordsman, but more like a lone wolf driven into a corner, ready to erupt.

"That's for the dead to see."

"The sword of the living... needs a bit of earthy stench..."

The void beneath Chen Huaian's feet suddenly exploded.

*Boom!*

He charged forward.

This time, there was no vastness of the Yellow River's waters, no boldness of singing while drinking.

This sword thrust was clumsy, heavy, and direct.

Like a street thug's brick, like an old farmer's hoeing swing.

"Call the boy to take it and barter for fine wine!!"

He roared in his heart.

A flash of disdain flickered in the middle corpse's eyes.

Full of openings.

He did not retreat but advanced instead, his long sword thrusting out, aiming straight for Chen Huaian's heart.

This was a certain kill. According to sword principles, Chen Huaian must bring his sword back to parry, or he would surely die.

*Thud.*

The sound of a sharp blade piercing flesh was clear and audible.

For the first time, a trace of astonishment appeared in those indifferent eyes of the middle corpse.

The sword had indeed pierced through.

It went through Chen Huaian's left shoulder, a hair's breadth from his heart.

Chen Huaian did not block.

He even actively took a step forward into the sword's path, letting that blade representing "rules" lock onto his bone.

Then, he gave a carefree laugh.

That broken iron sword in his hand, carrying a madness of mutual destruction...

Thrust hard.

Into the middle corpse's chest.

*Thump.*

Two swords embedded in flesh.

The scene froze.

Chen Huaian's face was close to the middle corpse's flawless visage, his hot breath spraying on the other's face, the smell of blood so thick it was choking.

"You cultivate flawlessness, perfection, being high above..."

Chen Huaian twisted his wrist, the intense pain making the muscles on his face twitch, but his laughter grew even more delighted.

"...so you cherish your life. You fear getting dirty."

He yanked the sword out violently!

A spray of blood mist erupted, splattering the middle corpse's face.

"But I'm just a 'human' with a worthless life."

"I dare to trade my life for one of your sword strikes."

Chen Huaian swayed unsteadily but still stared fixedly into the other's eyes. "Do you dare?"

The middle corpse lowered his head.

Looking at the dissipating hollow in his own chest.

No blood, only scattering white light—the Dao, shattered.

He had lost.

"Worry about the people while residing high in the court; worry about the ruler while dwelling far in the jianghu."

The middle corpse shook his head with a bitter smile. "But once truly upon that court, one can no longer see the people's suffering."

"The Dao... is the same."

"I... do not dare!"

The sword in his hand dissolved into points of light and scattered.

He lifted his head. That detestable divine indifference finally vanished from his face.

Replaced by an extremely faint, yet extremely genuine, smile.

The relief of seeing someone accomplish what he himself could not.

"Among the Three Corpses, the upper corpse is too proud, cannot bear dust; the middle corpse is too rational, cannot tolerate variables."

The middle corpse's figure began to turn translucent. He reached out a hand, as if wanting to brush the bloodstains from Chen Huaian's shoulder, but his palm passed through Chen Huaian's body.

"Only the lower corpse..."

"Though in the mire, its heart yearns for the blazing sun."

"Chen Huaian."

"I am not your equal."

"Pity I am the middle corpse. My fate is to merge with you and the upper corpse, or one day be merged by you... Otherwise..."

"We probably could have become friends, right?"

"Here we part, one a lonely tumbleweed traveling ten thousand miles... Farewell, Chen Huaian!"

As the sigh fell, the white robes disintegrated.

Countless streams of extremely pure Divine Soul power converged like a hundred rivers returning to the sea.

In this moment, the cut-off Yellow River, the collapsed embankments, all regained new life under this power.

*Boom!*

His Sea of Consciousness thundered, his Spiritual Platform became clear.

The middle corpse... had returned to position!

Chen Huaian stood dumbfounded in place.

And on the spot where the middle corpse had just stood.

Only a wine gourd and a sword remained.

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