Along with the violent wind, a figure glided to Jing Jiu's side.
Though the flowing lava was a bit murky, it had a faint glow; moreover, Jing Jiu's right hand was as bright as a torch, enough to illuminate the surrounding area.
He was a skinny middle-aged man, his two eyes emitting a greenish glow, his hair loose and scattered. He looked like a wild animal, exuding a heavy evil energy as thick as the dark night.
This deviant practitioner was indeed very powerful, which is why could cultivate so deep under the ground, and he should be quite famous on the Cold Mountain.
Jing Jiu glanced at him and was certain that this man's Cultivation state was higher than his own.
Then he looked at the magic treasure in his right hand, and was certain that this object was hard enough even though it didn't withstand the heat so well.
In a brief moment, the magic treasure gave off a puff of green smoke from the heat of Jing Jiu's right hand. The deviant practitioner displayed a heartbreaking and furious expression, as he yelled sharply, "Do you have a death wish?!"
Following this stern yell, the magic treasure in Jing Jiu's hand suddenly increased its lethal intent, dozens of resentful souls and dark spirits darting toward Jing Jiu's face like the moths flying toward a flame.
The temperature in the underground cave had abruptly dropped by several degrees; even the flowing lava became murkier.
Those resentful souls and dark spirits were shapeless and intangible, so they could assault Cultivation practitioners' Dao Heart or Yuanying. It was truly troublesome for practitioners to deal with.
This deviant practitioner had spend over one hundred years under the Gathered-Soul Valley collecting thousands of resentful souls and dark spirits to nurture his life magic treasure into a true demonic weapon.
Jing Jiu holding the magic treasure in his hand was indeed tantamount to inviting death.
The resentful souls and dark spirits assaulted Jing Jiu's face like a gust of wind, but they hit his face in a way reminiscent of bumping into a cliff's wall, scattering in every direction as they were unable to get into his body.
Jing Jiu didn't want these resentful souls and dark spirits to scatter. A bright sword light generated in his eyes.
With a cracking sound, those resentful souls and dark spirits shrieked sorrowfully and then turned into countless broken pieces, falling down to the ground.
It wasn't the real sword light that came out from Jing Jiu's eyes, but a pure sword will. The more intangible an object was, the more easily it was broken into pieces.
Merely a dozen resentful souls and dark spirits had been cut into pieces, but the deviant practitioner was impressed with Jing Jiu's formidable sword will. However, he had more confidence in himself, and was about to launch another assault after a sneer.
Yet, Jing Jiu didn't give him such an opportunity. Dozens of sword wills came out between his fingers, heading toward the magic treasure; in the next moment, Jing Jiu turned his palm upside down, bringing the magic treasure into his hand.
The expression on the deviant practitioner's face changed immediately, as he found that he couldn't sense his magic treasure anymore. He couldn't help but feel stunned, wondering if this young man had cut off the connection between his spiritual awareness and his life magic treasure; but it was impossible! Even the sharpest sword in the world couldn't achieve such a feat!
The connection between the Cultivation practitioners and their spiritual awareness was a shapeless thread of cause and effect. It would take a long time to exterminate this thread, and it was almost impossible for either the Sword of the Universe or Jing Jiu's right hand, even before it was injured, to cut it off in a short time.
In fact, Jing Jiu didn't use a sword or the sword will to cut off that thread. What Jing Jiu did was swaddle those threads with his sword wills and then send the magic treasure to another place.
It was indeed in another place.
It was not here.
It was not on the Cold Mountain.
And it was not even in Chaotian.
In a remote, cold and dark space, a few black cases and a bamboo chair were floating.
A snow white beetle was lying on the bamboo chair. It was none other than Cold Cicada, who was often used by the Principal Guard of Green Mountain, the Master White Ghost, as his head ornament.
Crouching on the bamboo chair and looking at a small fire ball in the distance, which was bigger than the stars but smaller than the sun, Cold Cicada wondered what it was.
All of a sudden, a blood red magic treasure appeared in front of its eyes, blocking the distant fire ball and exuding a gloomy and formidable energy.
Cold Cicada reached out its slender limb to touch the treasure out of curiosity.
The resentful souls and dark spirits inside the magic treasure rushed toward Cold Cicada while making soundless and dreadful shrieks.
Startled, Cold Cicada rolled down from the back of the chair to the seat of the chair in a hurry, and pretended to be dead. The limbs on its stomach rubbed against each other a few times, releasing something out.
What Cold Cicada did was redundant; it was because those resentful souls and dark spirits had no way to get closer to its body. No sooner had they left the surface of the magic treasure that they were driven to oblivion by an invisible force in the dark space.
The resentful souls and dark spirits that hadn't come out sensed the fear deep in their instinct, and rushed to the deep end of the magic treasure with all their might, forget coming out.
Having waited for a while, Cold Cicada found nothing harmful had happened, so it turned itself around awkwardly and climbed to the back of the bamboo chair along the arm of the chair. Looking at the resentful souls and dark spirits agitating like the tide in the magic treasure, wondering what this thing was.
This deviant practitioner had a high Cultivation state and extensive experience, and soon, he figured out that the young man didn't cut off his connection with his life magic treasure, but rather sent it to a place his spiritual awareness couldn't reach.
According to the understanding within the Cultivation circle, there was only one place that was very close and also very far at the same time, a space created by the spatial magic treasure.
Who was this person? How come he possessed the spatial magic treasure, a really rare and precious item?
Suppressing the shock forcefully, the deviant practitioner tried to figure out Jing Jiu's identity, and thought he was probably an elder of a famous and major sect.
He thought that the Zen sects were good at such a magic method; but he doubted that Jing Jiu was a highly achieved monk of any Zen sect. It was simply because Jing Jiu had hair on his head, and he was not the disciple of experiencing the mortal world at the Fruit Formation Temple, because a face like his couldn't stay out of the mortal affairs.
Jing Jiu wiggled slightly and came to a spot over a hundred feet away; it seemed that he was about to leave with the magic treasure.
Under normal circumstances, facing the highly achieved swordsmen of the orthodox sects, the deviant practitioners would let them go even when their opponents had a lower Cultivation state; but in addition to the fact that his life magic treasure was in Jing Jiu's hands, if he could snatch the spatial magic treasure from his opponent, he would be able to kill the elders of the Mysterious Dark Church, to say nothing of doing the same to the highly achieved swordsmen of the orthodox sects.
The dark wind rose suddenly, and the deviant practitioner turned into a gust of black smoke, rushing toward Jing Jiu along with a whistling sound.
Jing Jiu stepped on the surface of the flowing lava lightly, his clothes fluttering, gliding to a distant spot. It seemed that Jing Jiu intended to slow down the deviant practitioner's pursuit by relying on the high temperature of the lava.
The deviant practitioner sneered, thinking that he had lived by the underground river of lava for over one hundred years, and that it was a foolish idea to stop him by using such a method. He summoned his will to activate the formations hidden in the surroundings of the cave.
The cliff walls on the roof of the cave collapsed, crushing Jing Jiu into the river of lava.
The river of lava looked rather murky, but its temperature was extremely high. With a sizzling sound, the spot where Jing Jiu disappeared produced a fire ball.
It was strange that Jing Jiu, who had developed the Underworld and Fairy Sword acted so slowly this time; and why didn't he use his right hand to break through the ground and escape like what he had done earlier?
Coming to the bank of the river of lava and looking at the disappearing fire ball, the deviant practitioner didn't show a pleased expression.
In fact, he looked worried.
He was not worried that killing this person would draw revenge from the orthodox Cultivation sects. Here was the Cold Mountain, a few miles under the ground; who would be able to find out that it was he who did the killing?
The problem was that the person would have no remains left after being swallowed by the hot lava. What if the spatial magic treasure was also damaged?
The deviant practitioner waved his sleeve, a shapeless force coming out from nowhere to part a gap in the river of lava, exposing the bright and blood red color inside the lava.
The bright and blood red lava suddenly exploded, as if a large animal's body was pierced through by an instrument, fresh blood gushing out violently.
A great amount of hot and lethal lava shot at the deviant practitioner, resembling a dreadful volcano.
The deviant practitioner had lived by the river of lava over a hundred years, so it was not so easy for him to be burned to death. With a grave expression, he took out another demonic magic treasure.
The hot lava was blocked in front of him, looking like a wall of red jade.
The wall of red jade was translucent, and a dark figure suddenly appeared inside it.
Jing Jiu broke through the wall and charged toward the deviant practitioner along with a great amount of lava and a flash of bright light.
A surprised and lethal intent flashed in the deviant practitioner's eyes. Crying tersely, he swiped his hands at Jing Jiu's head, along with the gloomy and chilly black smoke.
Both of the deviant practitioner's hands were caught by Jing Jiu.
When Jing Jiu thrust his hands, it was the same as wielding a sword.
Though his Cultivation state was still low, few people in all of Chaotian could wield a sword as fast and as accurately as Jing Jiu.
The deviant practitioner felt clearly that a painful sensation was transmitted from his wrists to his mind.
It was his wrists that Jing Jiu was grasping.
The visible wounds appeared on his wrists, where the blood kept on seeping out.
Especially on his left wrist held by Jing Jiu's right hand, the horrible white bones could be seen clearly; and his wrist was on the verge of breaking off.
The deviant practitioner showed a surprised and perplexed expression in his eyes, but he still didn't believe that he would be dead soon.
In his view, Jing Jiu's Cultivation state was far inferior to his, so Jing Jiu had no way to harm him even if Jing Jiu had a magic treasure that could repel the fire.
Tolerating the sharp pain in his wrists, the deviant practitioner yelled sternly while staring into Jing Jiu's eyes, "Go…"
Along with this yell, more of the gloomy and chilly black smoke came out from his hands. It seemed that Jing Jiu would soon be swallowed up by the smoke.
The deviant practitioner's voice suddenly stopped.
The black smoke vanished.
The tip of a sword suddenly poked out from the deviant practitioner's throat.
The sword gave off a feel of desolation even though it was stained with blood.
Jing Jiu looked at the deviant practitioner quietly, devoid of any expression on his face.
No changed expression was detected on the deviant practitioner's face. He didn't believe that he would be defeated until now.
Taking the advantage of a rare opportunity, Jing Jiu chose to pierce his throat with the sword. Did this person actually think that he could kill a true Cultivation practitioner this way? Did he think this was a fight between two mortals?
The deviant practitioner thought that his person must be an elder of a major sect, have stayed behind closed doors for many years and seldom come out to the outside world; though he had the precious spatial magic treasure and something like the fire-repellent orb with him, and his Cultivation state and movements were not too bad; but he lacked the experience of engaging in real fights. As such, he truly deserved death.
Thinking of all this, the deviant practitioner was about to spit out the demonic seed.
It was because his opponent was right in front of him.
The demonic seed could enter his opponent's body easily, and swallow his Yuanying or sword ghost.
Soon enough, the deviant practitioner found something was out of place.
The demonic seed failed to come up to his mouth.
Worst of all, the demonic seed didn't even register his command.
In the next moment, he found that his body had already lost all sensation.
For any Cultivation practitioner, piercing through the throat was not a fatal wound.
The scary part was that this sword was very broad, enough for a person to sit comfortably on it.
This sword was actually wide enough to seat two people. If they wanted, they could even play chess on it…
The Sword of the Universe was a sword of this sort.
Though many iron rusts were knocked off by the Unicorn at the Fruit Formation Temple and its size was smaller, it was still quite broad.
It was at least broader that a person's neck.
As a result, piercing through someone's throat by the Sword of the Universe was often meant that the person's head was also cut off.
At the moment, the Sword of the Universe was inserted inside that deviant practitioner's neck, insulating his head and body completely. The Sword of the Universe didn't look like a flying sword, but more like the broad knife used by the magicians to separate the body.
The deviant practitioner's head fell to the ground, with a terrified and bewildered expression on his face; and his body dropped to the ground afterwards.
The ground was covered with the lava coming up from the river below, exuding a suffocating hot intent.
Regardless of how powerful a Cultivation practitioner was, it would be impossible for them to survive in lava, as long as they were not in the Heavenly Arrival Stat, not to mention, not everybody had a body as special as Jing Jiu's.
Yet, Jing Jiu didn't halt his further attack, because he was unsure if this deviant practitioner had learned some kind of special method to deal with the lava since he had lived by it for so many years.
The Sword of the Universe hacked down again; and his right hand tapped in the air, shooting out many sword wills into the underground cave.
The deviant practitioner's head and body were cut into innumerable shreds even before they touched the ground.
Then, Jing Jiu waved his sleeve lightly and sent them into the slowly flowing lava, no matter whether they were the demonic seed, or demonic helm, or demonic embryo.
Hundreds of tiny flames appeared on the surface of the river of lava.
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