A Scroll of Infinite Glory

Chapter 131 The Formation Breaker, the Formation Warrior (6200)

As soon as he stepped into the area with the thickest dust, Jiang Jiusi drew his sword, and with a low clang, the tip of the sword swept across the ground.

The splashing soil, carrying sword energy, shot out in multiple directions.

Within the visible range, the faintly visible willow trunks, like invisible, greedy phantoms, silently swallowed up the sword energy.

"It does indeed have a mesmerizing and disorienting effect. We can't break through the formation with brute force."

Zhao Wan Gui saw this scene and seemed to be deep in thought.

Although he could not be considered a great expert in Qimen formations, the Lushan School was known for its five floors of classic texts and nine cellars of books, and he had extensive knowledge of books from all walks of life.

Aside from their own sword techniques and internal strength, members of the Lushan School, even if they themselves dislike reading, have at least read some basic subjects like hydrology, geography, medicine, divination, astrology, and epigraphy under the guidance of their teachers, without seeking a deep understanding of them.

He couldn't break the formation on his own, but with Jiang Jiusi leading the way, he could see much more than those who knew absolutely nothing.

After watching the sword energy disappear, Jiang Jiusi's eyes flashed slightly. Suddenly, he strode to the left, and in two steps, his body tilted and he flew away.

This top swordsman of the Eastern Capital possessed extraordinary agility. His body and legs did not bend noticeably, and his robes clung tightly to his body. He was like a majestic divine sword flying through the air, suddenly shooting diagonally and then abruptly turning among the shadows of the trees.

Zhao Wangui followed closely behind, her sleeves fluttering. She would lightly touch the ground with her toes and leap over it. In terms of lightness skill alone, she was more composed and graceful than Jiang Jiusi.

Amidst the billowing smoke and dust, the fortune teller, seated high above, held a chess piece in his hand. His gaze swept over the scattered figures of the Falling Clouds Sect Master, Baili Puti, and the others, his pupils flickering as he tracked down the two most valuable targets.

He had already caught a glimpse of Jiang Jiusi and Zhao Wangui, and was about to notify Meng Wanghou and the others to come over so that they could launch another attack.

Unexpectedly, the two people wandered among the shadows of several trees, some real and some not, and then, seemingly by the help of the smoke and willow branches, suddenly disappeared from sight.

Bu Suanzi uttered a slight sound of doubt.

He set up this formation, which causes various obstacles to others, such as obstructing their vision and deafening their hearing.

For him, however, there were no negative effects. He should have been fully aware of these people's movements.

Unexpectedly, those two people were able to adapt to the situation and merge into the formation. Unless the formation is directly canceled, even he, the master of the formation, would find it difficult to distinguish them in a short period of time.

"snort!"

Bu Suanzi let out a half-smile and transmitted his voice, instructing Meng Wanghou and his men to kill the rest of the people first.

Immediately, he flipped his hand, and several black and white chess pieces flew out from his sleeves, flying one after another into the open spaces in the east, west, south, and north.

Even four small chess pieces stacked together would be too inconspicuous in this hazy, yellowish dust that has expanded to a radius of nearly sixty meters, let alone when they are scattered.

But right after these chess pieces landed, the entire vast area of ​​smoke and dust underwent a dramatic change; all the willow trunks, broken stones, and twigs seemed to have been moved to different positions out of thin air.

Behind a willow tree that had been suddenly moved, Zhao Wangui's figure flashed briefly before disappearing again.

Bu Suanzi stroked his beard with one hand, a slight smile curving his lips.

If they want to integrate into the formation, or if they want to assassinate the master of the formation, then when the formation changes, these two people must change accordingly, so that they can gradually approach the center of the formation.

But Bu Suanzi was confident that as long as he used one-third of the variations of his formation, it would be enough to stall until Meng Wanghou and his men killed the rest of them.

Even if the formation is dispelled, these two people will still be unable to escape.

In the southwest amidst the smoke and dust, Baili Puti watched helplessly as the trunks of the willow trees in front of him suddenly shifted from their original positions.

Even a fool would know this is a strange illusionary formation; the formation has changed.

He activated the Shaolin's true demon-subduing internal energy, pushing down with both palms and channeling his power into his fingertips. Taking advantage of the change in the formation, he chose a direction and suddenly leaped forward.

Although he is still a step away from the level of a first-class master, it is not difficult for Baili Puti to unleash ten thousand jin of force in his arms when his true energy is full.

Now he made up his mind, his palms ready to unleash their ultimate moves. In this leap, no matter what lies ahead—rocks, trees, air, or anything else—he would push through it all in one go and break out of this formation.

A broken willow tree suddenly moved to within a foot in front of him. Baili Puti struck out with his palm, piercing through the shadow of the willow tree, but he couldn't feel anything in his hand. He felt the true energy of the palm being suddenly drawn away, and his body involuntarily tilted to the side.

When a Shaolin disciple first enters the sect, he first practices the Weituo Palm or the Arhat Fist. Only after mastering these skills can he practice the internal energy breathing method of the Nine Diagrams and Six Seated Statues. Then he learns the Stone-Grasping Fist, the Stele-Splitting Hand, the Leaf-Sweeping Leg, and the Iron Head Skill. After that, he practices the Great Compassion Thousand-Leaf Hand. Only then can he reach the level of Shaolin's ultimate skills, such as the Demon-Subduing Palm or the Prajna Palm.

Among the lay disciples of Shaolin, the one with the highest talent only learned all twenty-four forms of the Demon-Subduing Palm after twelve years in the temple. He praised that although this palm technique is not as profound in Zen as the Prajna Palm, it becomes purer with practice. It is best at hiding the palm force between existence and non-existence, and is especially effective in restraining those who use force to deflect or shift it, so that the one who borrows the force cannot borrow even a bit, and the one who deflects the force cannot deflect even a fraction of it.

Yet, this very Demon-Subduing Palm technique was completely neutralized today by Baili Puti, who managed to remove 99% of its power from a mesmerizing array made of broken trees and rubble.

As his body tilted to the side, a moment of shock had just risen in his heart when he suddenly sensed something, and his heartstrings trembled violently, as if dark clouds were covering his head and disaster was imminent.

With his body slightly tilted to the right and leaning forward, Baili Puti took a step forward with his right foot, stomped heavily on the ground, gathered his strength in his palm, and lashed out to the right rear with the force of a sweeping attack.

With a sudden gust of wind, the subtle palm force even managed to contain the airflow that should have been expelled, forming a visible, swirling sphere in the palm of the hand.

But the enemy who ambushed him from the right rear was much faster than him. With a swift movement of his claws, he twisted Baili Puti's wrist, his fingertips piercing flesh and bone, and then twisting it sharply.

Baili Puti's wrist bone dislocated, his palm twisted upwards, and the sphere in his palm was thrown into the air, exploding into a shockwave about twenty meters above the ground.

"what!"

With a cry of pain, Baili Puti's shoulder swayed, dislocating his shoulder and elbow joints on his own, thus gaining the freedom to turn around and suddenly face his opponent, striking with his left hand.

The prayer beads hanging on his left wrist snapped and shot out with his swing. The subtle power of the Demon-Subduing Palm activated all eight beads simultaneously, yet they were arranged in a staggered and orderly fashion, striking the attacker's head and chest at several vital points in a way that was impossible to defend against.

He risked almost crippling an arm to achieve such close, direct contact, and unleashed his palm strike and hidden weapon almost simultaneously.

Even if the person standing in front of him is a powerful expert who has been a first-class master for ten or eight years, he would still be forced back by such an offensive, giving Baili Puti more chances to breathe.

However, the man opposite, whose head was covered with a black turban and who had no beard, first used his left hand to create a trajectory like a young dragon soaring, then spiraled forward, twisting his arm, flipping his wrist, and flicking his fingers, and grabbed all the prayer beads in his hand.

At the same time, his right claw moved from bottom to top, like shoveling snow and throwing sand, silently scooping up and locking several acupoints on Baili Puti's left elbow. A fierce and unruly true energy was destructively injected into the acupoints, causing the left half of Baili Puti's body to go numb.

"You're not even top-tier, yet you dare use Shaolin kung fu in front of me?"

"Dragon Claw Hand!!"

Baili Puti's left side of his face was numb, but his right eye opened wide in astonishment. He uttered the name of the martial art with a slightly crooked mouth, and then his throat was pinched.

The burly man with a black turban on his head grabbed Baili Puti's throat with his left hand and crushed it. The prayer beads in his hand were embedded in the flesh and bones of his throat.

Fire Luo Protector, Shaolin Traitor, Luo Yin.

Baili Puti was killed by Luo Yin, who was proficient in Shaolin Kung Fu, but he was actually one of the people who survived the most of the attacks, among those who were attacked at the same time.

Tie Qingzi, a master of concealed weapons, had all his hidden weapons—throwing knives, needles, and caltrops—discarded by Meng Wanghou's nonchalant palm strike, turning him into a pincushion instead.

Du Liesheng, a master swordsman from Chu, unleashed twenty-one consecutive slashes in the blink of an eye, his entire body flashing with sword light as the blade swept around him like a shimmering silver ribbon.

Unfortunately, under Bai Bujian's seductive and powerful technique, Du Liesheng's swift sword strikes failed to even touch a hair on his opponent's head before Bai Bujian slit his throat with a piece of fabric from his sleeve.

Li Tingsong, the leader of the Luoxia Sect, could unleash a fierce wind from his iron fan that could make a person's muscles turn into cotton and their joints wither. Hidden within the fan was the Luoxia Sect's colorful and vibrant True Qi, which was not a poisonous technique but was even more potent than poison itself.

But his opponent was the Mountain Wolf, who slew three thousand times a day in the mountains. His sword was wider than the palm of a grown man and taller than a nine-foot-tall man. With a single swing, Caiqi and Tieshan were torn apart by the blunt blade.

This cut also cleaved open Li Tingsong's chest, drawing out the hot blood from his chest cavity onto the tip of the blade, sending it flying into a large arc of bright red splatter towards the ground.

There was also a white jade chess piece in the air, which suddenly disappeared, taking another life.

In the short time it took for the Huo Luo Dao people to shift and rise, nearly half of the dozen or so renowned experts who came out of the Sword Casting Manor had already died.

Corpses lay on the ground, and even those with less obvious wounds gushed out extremely bright, thick, and glowing red blood after they died.

The smoke and dust rose, the energy clashed, the river surged, and the sound of blood splattering—all these sounds reached Bu Suanzi's ears.

He was about to send another telepathic message to point out the next target for Meng Wanghou and the others when, for some reason, a surge of emotion welled up in his chest.

Splash! Splash! Splash!

The sound of the river waves should not have been so loud.

Now, however, it suddenly resonated with unparalleled clarity in Bu Suanzi's ears and chest.

Waves rolled in one after another, and water plants swayed wildly at the bottom of the shallow water near the riverbank. Waves crashed against each other, pushing layer upon layer to the shore and wetting the soil.

Scenes flashed through my mind almost instantly, along with the sounds.

Bu Suanzi involuntarily let out a sound similar to a cough, quickly pressed his left hand to his chest, and threw two chess pieces behind him with his right hand.

Behind them, Jiang Jiusi's figure suddenly rose up. He didn't know when, but he had already moved from the outer edge of the formation to the core. He swung his sword, and halfway through, he flicked his wrist, and the tip of the sword swung left and right, knocking down the two chess pieces. He continued to thrust forward.

Bu Suanzi's body remained seated, rotating on the smooth surface of the willow trunk.

The Northern Envoy of the Fire Luo Path, with a wrinkled face, thin build, and a goatee, is a fortune teller whose identity remains a mystery.

Jiang Jiusi, the number one swordsman in the Eastern Capital, son of a high-ranking official of the Tang Dynasty, is known for his elegant demeanor and fame.

The two met face to face, and Jiang Jiusi's sword was caught by Bu Suanzi.

He pinched the sword tip with his right thumb and forefinger, the black piece on his thumb and the white piece on his forefinger coming together perfectly.

The black and white jade stone and the cold iron sword with its bright silver light clashed together, producing a crisp symphony.

"The number one swordsman of Dongdu who is not even thirty years old yet, many people think that his reputation is overrated. Even the sect's intelligence records it this way. Ha, the person who collected this intelligence deserves to die."

Bu Suanzi's pupils were shockingly black. "Your swordsmanship echoes the roar of the great river, which is bad enough, but it even echoes the blood of those who have just died."

"His movements were fluid, his sword intent was unrestrained, and the dormant true energy mixed with blood became active again. The internal and external forces combined, disrupting the entire formation, and before I could even notice, he had rushed in front of me."

Between the broken tree formations, tiny, misty droplets of water were constantly rising from the pools of blood beside all the corpses.

That too is the sound of waves.

Moreover, it is a closer, more intense, more powerful, and more adept at breaking formations—a surge of blood energy.

"I'm just curious, how many people would you have to kill to master your swordsmanship?"

"I'm curious too."

Jiang Jiusi replied with a serious and nostalgic tone, "I deduced this matter, and even when the answer was just a vague number, it already terrified me."

With a tone of regret, sword energy surged, and the black and white chess pieces were ground into powder.

Bu Suanzi changed his hand gesture and deflected the sword blade with a single finger.

His finger gestures are unique. He first makes a fist, and then the knuckle of his index finger protrudes outwards, somewhat like the gesture some people use when knocking on a door, or like a Go master gently knocking on the door of inspiration with his knuckles while deep in thought.

This finger technique is called "Du Lou Tian Yuan".

Golden corners, silver edges, grassy belly, vying for the edge and occupying the line.

Bu Suanzi flipped his hands over, his legs still firmly planted on the cross-section of the tree trunk, yet it seemed as if six or seven more arms had grown out of him in an instant, ancient and clumsy like gnarled branches growing wildly, deformed and unpredictable.

His attacks often seemed to leave gaps in the middle, but when Jiang Jiusi's sword was drawn to that spot, it would definitely be deflected by an even stronger finger strike.

This finger technique, with its combination of both hands striking in a single motion, provides an impregnable defense and serves as a form of offense, continuously superimposing a unique vibrational frequency onto the object being struck.

In the past, Bu Suanzi used this finger technique to knock away the opponent's weapon, break the enemy's bones, and strike their vital points countless times.

But Jiang Jiusi only touched the edge of the willow tree's cross-section with his toes, lightly leaping and circling to launch his attacks.

His sword, after each lightning-fast strike, even if opened by finger force, would instantly be renewed, like flowing water that never stagnates, ever-renewing.

The influence of Bu Suanzi's finger force could not remain on the sword, let alone be transmitted to the opponent's wrist.

The ever-changing, seemingly ancient tree bursting with life, its branches and twigs splitting into numerous afterimages of arms, were sliced ​​away with each back-and-forth of sword light.

That just shows that under Jiang Jiusi's flowing and gentle swordsmanship, the range of Bu Suanzi's attacks was compressed more and more, making it difficult for him to use his skills.

A winding stream flows, wine cups float; swords dart into the still depths!

The accumulation of flowing water is often for the most violent burst. When Jiang Jiusi's clean sword once again causes the waves inside and outside the formation to echo, it will be a sure-kill blow, breaking through the key point of the formation, and may even kill Bu Suanzi on the spot.

However, the people of Huoluodao had already rushed here as soon as the incident occurred.

Just as Jiang Jiusi said to Zhao Wangui, if you want to break the formation, the most dangerous person in the whole situation is not the one who directly targets the core of the formation, but the one who intercepts all the reinforcements.

That perilous place was tantamount to facing death.

The two-foot-six-inch Golden Wing Blade spun and flew, its blade energy forming enormous wings. With a single sweep, dozens of narrow, long, and deep grooves appeared on the ground, and even the dust in the air was cut with traces.

Zhao Wangui was trying to stop everyone, and with each strike of his sword, he maintained the largest possible sword aura wings.

The elegant and carefree sword energy of Mount Lu, once so powerful, was shattered into countless fragments in a single exchange after its extreme expansion.

Zhao Wangui coughed up blood and staggered back, but the sword energy turned again, and the wings expanded, forming an arc-shaped embankment that pushed towards those people.

Dragon Claw Hand, Mountain Blade, Divine Dispersion Body Technique—with a single strike, wings shattered once more.

Zhao Wangui's blade flashed, slicing up a large patch of earth and stone at an angle. With a flick of his wrist, the shattered soil and rocks shot forward, each piece of earth carrying a blade's energy, like a raging storm capable of shattering high walls and courtyards into dust.

Two streams of blood flowed from his eyes and nostrils, and when he wiped his left hand, it was covered in blood.

"It's a pity that after Xiao Ruzui left, my senior brother smashed all the medicinal wine she brewed for our birthday celebration. Otherwise, the strong smell of blood could have been a good accompaniment to the wine."

"What a pity, what a pity—"

With a sigh, "How... hateful!!!!"

With his meridians on the verge of collapse and intense pain emanating from them, Zhao Wangui squeezed his dantian and unleashed an even more magnificent golden winged blade aura.

A somber blue aura rose from the opposite side, like the roar of ocean waves, enveloping Meng Wanghou's figure and shattering the blade's energy.

With a single palm strike, Meng Wanghou crushed the Golden Winged Blade in the exhausted Zhao Wangui's hand. His other palm then reached directly for Zhao Wangui's head, a strike powerful enough to shatter his skull.

But in the end, only a gust of wind struck Zhao Wangui's face, causing him to stagger backward.

The physical form of that hand, along with Meng Wanghou's figure, soared into the air and charged towards Jiang Jiusi.

He didn't even have time to kill Zhao Wangui.

Because of Jiang Jiusi's sword strike that stirred up the waves, many pools of blood appeared amidst the dust, and thick, bloody smoke rose up.

An invisible force was applied to his longsword even faster than the blood and smoke.

This sword strike was so powerful that Bu Suanzi was terrified and dared not block it any longer. He tried his best to escape.

With a flash, Bu Suanzi leaped into the air, his sword striking the core of the formation.

The willow tree, as thick as three people could hug, was struck by this sword. The dazzling sword energy pierced from the top to the ground, and then the trunk exploded inch by inch, falling apart.

The lingering dust and smoke suddenly cleared away, and most of the indistinct tree shadows vanished in an instant, leaving only a handful of tree trunks standing there.

Those righteous masters who had been separated finally saw each other's presence.

The sight of Meng Wanghou striking with his palm in mid-air also came into their view, but it was too late for anyone to stop him.

There was only one attack, Zhao Wangui leaning back and throwing the hilt of his knife in that direction—a blow that was better than nothing.

The flying hilt of the knife was knocked away by a passing figure.

Meng Wanghou twisted his body in mid-air and looked back. With a wave-like palm strike, he swirled and slapped the newcomer.

boom!!!

The two palms met.

Meng Wanghou's palm strike spun and solidified. He was still in mid-air, yet he instantly wanted to create a stalemate with the opponent's palm strike and pull them into a contest of internal strength.

Apart from this newcomer, no one present could threaten him for the time being. If they were to engage in a contest of internal strength, his three protectors could kill him instantly if they attacked simultaneously.

However, the other party seemed to instinctively guess his thoughts, and suddenly his palm snapped outward. A strange vibrational force emanated from his bone marrow, passing through his tendons, breath, meridians, and skin, amplifying and reinforcing it layer by layer. This gave his palm an instant sense of flawless texture, actually severing the interaction of the two parties' true energy and directly breaking free from the stalemate.

The man's hand gestures changed incredibly fast, transforming his palm into a fist, then his fist into his fingers, piercing through the swirling, ocean-like true energy. Finally, another punch slammed down, sending Meng Wanghou flying backward.

Two figures burst apart in mid-air and fell to the ground.

Meng Wanghou had already moved quite a distance away from Jiang Jiusi's side.

Guan Luoyang glanced at Jiang Jiusi beside him.

Hmm, the one who threw the sword hilt must be from the Lushan Sect. This person was on the side that broke the formation just now... Looks like we didn't hit the wrong person.

He looked at Meng Wanghou, Bu Suanzi, and the others: "The Fire Luo Path?"

Bu Suanzi touched the sword scar on his forehead, gave a forced smile, and said, "That's right."

"So, you're going to kill me, huh!"

………………

"My junior sister, Brother Chen, and I will go there. Senior brother, your abilities are best suited to stay here and look after the Han family."

Not long ago, Guan Luoyang made this arrangement in the courtyard of the Han residence.

Chen Shouzhen, An Feiyu, and others nodded in agreement. The situation was urgent, and there was no time to consider better solutions.

Upon hearing the news, Han Wengong smiled and asked, "Why stay behind?"

Chen Shouzhen quickly said, "Elder Han, although you are still very capable, you are outnumbered and outmatched. If we all leave, and they launch a surprise attack on the Han residence, I'm afraid we won't be able to handle it..."

"What I mean is, we only have a handful of top-tier fighters on our side, why bother splitting up? Am I some kind of hermit, tied to the Han family?"

Han Wengong stepped out of the back door of the hall and walked towards the courtyard.

"Ten years ago in the southwest, I was assassinated day and night, and no one told me that those who were to be assassinated could not go to the front lines."

There was a weapons rack in the courtyard, and guns on the rack.

………………

"So, you're going to kill me, huh!"

An aged voice echoed among the sparse, broken trees.

Everyone looked in the direction of the sound and saw Han Wengong standing on the shore with his spear, looking at the waves at his feet, the water beside him, and the sun reflected in the water.

"Well, the sunset over the long river has much more charm than that lonely old house."

"Whoever wants to kill me, do it right here."

(End of this chapter)