Who dared talk smack about Butterfly Daoist?
His potential was terrifyingly vast, compelling even numerous grandmasters to bow their heads before him.
Within the supreme civilization of the Celestial race, he was considered an absolute luminary among the younger generation.
Yet now, someone from the opposing camp dared call him a bug to his face, invoking the autumn wind stripping leaves and heavenly frost stilling myriad insects to foretell his demise.
Across the entire battlefield, many experts locked in life-and-death combat could not resist glancing over their shoulders into the distance.
Butterfly Daoist's attention was successfully drawn. He had been on the verge of plunging into the enemy lines to hunt down the grandmasters of the Yujing camp, but now he turned his head to gaze afar.
He wore a black Daoist robe embroidered with patterns traced in silver thread along the collar and cuffs, while the back bore an intricate, marvelous array of multicolored designs.
A grandmaster in his prime murmured an introduction at his side: "It is that sword cultivator. The one who calls himself 'Slaying Through the Thirty-Six Heavens with a Single Sword'—a title practically begging for death."
Butterfly Daoist appeared to be in his early twenties. His thick, jet-black hair possessed a crystalline luster, pinned in place by a simple wooden hairpin. Though fair-complexioned and ordinary in features, his entire being exuded an ethereal, lucid air. Wreathed in light mist, he looked like a true immortal reincarnated, an exile descended into the mortal realm, merely passing through the mundane world.
His peers within the Celestial race held him in deep awe, for he was an unrivaled young powerhouse of this era.
Beside Butterfly Daoist, the massive five-colored strange beast spoke indifferently, "Who has a death wish?"
Naturally, it knew who was issuing the challenge; it was merely seizing the chance to elevate its good friend Butterfly Daoist, emphasizing his transcendent stature.
With his left hand resting behind his back and a serene face devoid of joy or sorrow, Butterfly Daoist calmly raised his eyes toward the distant sky.
The five-colored strange beast was clad in brilliant, shimmering scales that seemed forged from five exotic metals. Raising its massive head, it turned to its friend and said, "I will clean him up for you."
It was deliberately letting everyone know that not just anyone had the right to cross Butterfly Daoist.
Without Qin Ming saying a single word, a crowd in the Yujing camp—including several grandmasters—began to tear the beast down.
"Lacking discipline!"
"Someone needs a sound thrashing!"
"You know nothing about One Sword!"
Back when Qin Ming had faced off and sparred against the Totem camp, he had fought in his true form, consecutively defeating numerous experts in the initial stage of that system's fourth realm.
On that day, this very grandmaster-level five-colored strange beast had adopted a haughty demeanor, declaring that even if Qin Ming cultivated for another twenty years, he might never stand before it.
Today, Qin Ming was clad in golden armor with a greatsword strapped to his back. Without uttering a word, he simply beckoned to it, entirely willing to first slay this renowned beast of the Totem camp.
Evidently, the five-colored strange beast was exceptionally formidable, standing as one of the leaders among the younger generation of the Totem camp; otherwise, it would never have walked alongside Butterfly Daoist.
Raising its head, it said, "If that is how it is, allow me to slay him. Brother Daoist, observe from behind. Not everyone is worthy of you entering the field in person."
In doing so, it subtly elevated Butterfly Daoist once more.
Qin Ming spoke up: "Come on over. I have long admired the super five-colored... wondrous blood."
Many had assumed he was about to express his long-standing admiration for the giant beast's reputation, only for him to end his sentence with 'wondrous blood.'
Not a few were stunned. 'One Sword' was even more ostentatious and overbearing than they had imagined, filling the opposing camp with deep discomfort.
The Yujing camp always preached righteousness, so why did this famous 'One Sword' behave entirely like a villain? Shamelessly, overtly lusting after the precious blood within the five-colored strange beast.
"An evil cultivator!"
"Is this the style of Yujing? And to think they have the face to mock us!"
A chorus of murmurs rose in frustration, and some grandmasters voiced their thoughts directly.
The five-colored strange beast did not lose its temper. Treading through the void with unhurried grace, it sighed softly: "They are all madmen. In all the world, who is the true hero? One battle refines true gold; a single breath slays the dirt."
If nothing else, rare was the individual who could match its sheer skill in striking an aloof posture.
Crossing the night sky, the five-colored strange beast instantly commanded countless gazes.
Qin Ming walked forward, itching to draw the Yellow Silk Canopy and use its tip to pry open the beast's skull.
"Cut it down!"
"That beast is even more arrogant than a sword cultivator!"
Pei Shuyan, Zhuo Qingming, and the others could barely hold themselves back. Yujing had unilaterally stripped the Totem camp of its status as a supreme civilization system, yet their grandmasters dared look down upon the renowned 'One Sword'?
Butterfly Daoist finally spoke: "I will handle this myself."
Though his features were plain, his flesh and blood were pure and luminous, imbued with immortal grace. By all appearances, he seemed an enlightened master exiled into the mortal dust, destined to return to higher realms one day.
Even as he spoke, he stepped forward. His words were calm yet brooked no refusal; he intended to take the field personally.
"Very well!" The five-colored strange beast nodded and immediately halted in its tracks.
It secretly breathed a sigh of relief, having felt considerable pressure just now. Although it knew very little about One Sword beyond a few rumors, it already understood that this was a terrifying, ruthless opponent.
Its posturing earlier had merely been an exercise in social etiquette—a way to build up Butterfly Daoist and demonstrate its 'sincerity' in offering to take a blade for a friend.
In truth, it had no desire to engage in a bloody duel against One Sword.
As for whether its words might offend a formidable foe? It hardly mattered. Both sides belonged to opposing camps anyway; winning Butterfly Daoist's favor and friendship was more than enough.
In the night, blood and fire intertwined. Several mountain peaks had already collapsed, impaled with battle spears and broken blades. The earth was torn asunder, broadswords cleaved deep into the bedrock, and the blood-stained corpses of grandmasters and mangled remnants of transcendent non-humans lay strewn about, accompanied by towering blazes roaring in the woods.
The bloody struggle between both sides ground to a temporary halt, for everyone was focused on One Sword and Butterfly Daoist, waiting to witness the outcome of their contest.
Without question, these two renowned figures were pivotal characters capable of swaying the direction of the entire battle.
Strolling high in the sky, Butterfly Daoist said, "You issued your challenge from afar because you feared I would hunt your grandmasters before you could stop me, is that it?"
Wreathed in white mist, his ordinary face was serene and detached, marked by a sense of cold distance. "I am someone who responds to gentleness, not force. You provoke me, yet you still dream of changing my mind? Impossible!"
As he spoke, his aura underwent a sudden transformation. Shifting from ethereal, lucid, and transcendent, it became razor-sharp and aggressive, brimming with overbearing pressure.
With his black hair whipping about and eyes flashing like cold lightning, Butterfly Daoist unleashed a terrifying wave of energy that rippled outward. The dense cloud layer above his head exploded, and the surrounding night mist dispersed completely.
A sonic boom erupted as he vanished from his original spot, charging toward the nearest elderly grandmaster of the Yujing camp.
Teleporting through the void, he materialized in another position. While still a distance away, he pressed a palm forward.
With a thunderous crash, radiant brilliance erupted. A gargantuan silver hand formed of immortal light descended—truly a force capable of blotting out the sky—pressing down upon the elderly grandmaster of the Immortal Path.
Executing a sudden teleportation, Butterfly Daoist struck with absolute ferocity, aiming to detonate a grandmaster with a single hand to give 'One Sword' a crushing warning.
The old grandmaster's pure yang consciousness flared brilliantly as he cast out an exotic treasure, hurling it toward the intimidating hand in the night sky while beating a hasty retreat.
However, his weapon—a bronze mirror cloaked in immortal brilliance, a genuine fifth-realm treasure—proved entirely unable to withstand the silver-white hand.
With a sharp crack, the bronze mirror fractured on the spot before shattering into dozens of fragments; a grandmaster-tier treasure had been destroyed in a single blow.
At the same time, the silver hand seemed to seize the entire battlefield in its grasp, suffocating all beneath it. Cascading runes washed over the old grandmaster, causing blood to seep from his nose and mouth.
Clang!
A beam of nine-colored sword light suddenly burst forth across this parcel of earth, soaring straight into the firmament to block the silver-white hand.
In the night sky, earth-shaking shock waves of white vapor exploded, blasting through the darkness.
Coughing up blood, the old grandmaster withdrew from the battlefield, finally escaping the crushing grasp of that manifest hand and surviving the calamity.
High above, the silver-white hand receded.
Qin Ming gave a cold snort and unleashed a second sword strike, sweeping it toward the opposing camp.
As the saying went, courtesy demanded reciprocity. If the opponent attempted a surprise assault to catch his side unprepared and publicly slaughter a grandmaster, he would return the favor in kind.
In an instant, an expanse of sword qi traversed the sky, staining the night curtain with kaleidoscopic radiance. Boundless, terrifying killing intent blanketed the nearest enemy grandmaster.
It no longer resembled mere sword light; it looked like a luminous, surging river spanning the celestial vault, its oppressive weight causing countless hearts to tremble.
"I have this!" shouted the five-colored strange beast. Invoking a profound art, it swept out five-colored divine radiance, utilizing the rotational power of the five elements to neutralize this earth-shattering sword strike.
Even now, it was still currying favor with Butterfly Daoist.
Truth be told, its prowess was genuinely formidable, ranking near the forefront of its peers. The five-colored radiance surged ceaselessly like a brilliant divine wheel turning in place to halt the sword light.
Behind the divine wheel, a grandmaster in his prime tensed his body and retreated at top speed. Moments earlier, he had felt the icy touch of imminent death, his skin already seeping blood.
Sword light had even begun to shine from within his flesh; he had been on the verge of exploding.
Fortunately, the five-colored strange beast had stepped in to intercept the strike.
Suddenly, the beast's expression shifted. It realized the lingering force behind the sword light was monstrous, sending shivers down its spine and pulling every scale on its body taut.
Immediately after, the five-colored divine wheel was ripped apart, the power of the five elements thrown into chaos; it had failed to halt the sword qi.
The five-colored strange beast opened its maw to spit out a torrent of glittering runes that assembled into a miniature totem altar.
Crack!
Dense fissures spiderwebbed across the altar, damaging it instantly.
Streaks of light sprayed everywhere as the altar disintegrated. With a violent boom, flames of light detonated, sending a mushroom cloud of spiritual substance billowing into the sky.
Yet the sword light had not fully spent itself, continuing its path straight toward the five-colored strange beast.
Its face turned grim. It had intended to dispel the strike with leisurely ease, yet here it was, reduced to such a wretched state.
In its haste, it raised its massive hooves, slamming them forward in rapid succession.
Amid metallic clangs, sparks flew and blood splashed, though the beast quietly absorbed the spilled blood with runic light before anyone could notice.
It refused to look overly disgraced.
When the sword light finally dissipated, its face turned slightly green. Both of its front hooves were bald—nearly sheared away, given an unsolicited pedicure.
Stung by the pain, it forcefully suppressed the blood threatening to seep out, placing its hooves back onto the void to conceal the damage.
The beast had wanted to do a favor and show off its might, only to end up displaying two bald stumps.
Qin Ming nodded and remarked, "Not bad. Pretty sturdy!" Coming from him, this was already high praise for an opponent.
Yet to the ears of the five-colored strange beast, its scale-covered cheeks burned with mortification, feeling as though it had been slapped across the face.
Butterfly Daoist spoke: "Brother Daoist, take a rest for now. I shall handle him myself."
In the night sky, he stood in confrontation with Qin Ming. The overwhelming might he had displayed moments before had genuinely shaken many hearts, his silver-white hand utterly suffocating.
The night wind blew, sweeping his thick black hair backward, his ordinary face brimming with confidence.
"The potential of a supreme sword immortal truly inspires reverence," he acknowledged, a complex glint flashing deep within his gaze.
He had already deduced that his opponent's realm was likely lower than his own.
Yet in their initial exchange, they had fought to a dead draw.
Different camps possessed little understanding of one another's cultivation paths. For instance, the Dao seeds of the parasitic civilization were indifferent to nine-colored sword baleful aura, having never even heard of it.
Butterfly Daoist, however, was different. He had practiced the sword and delved deeply into the way of the saber; he understood precisely what the appearance of nine-colored sword light signified, sending tumultuous waves through his heart.
Ordinary grandmasters of the Celestial race knew nothing of the ancient secrets, but someone of Butterfly Daoist's status had access to dust-laden records. He knew how dangerous and exceptionally troublesome this adversary was.
Yet this was also an opportunity. Since this sword cultivator's realm was lower than his, this might be his chance to eliminate a peerless future powerhouse on behalf of the Celestial race before he could mature.
A faint smile appeared on Butterfly Daoist's lips, yet his eyes grew increasingly frigid.
Was this man parasitized? Qin Ming scrutinized him but found no anomalies for the time being. The opponent appeared entirely normal, possessing an autonomous consciousness whose every word and deed conformed to the demeanor of the Celestial race.
"Sever!"
At that moment, Butterfly Daoist drew his saber. A dazzling sweep of blade light sundered the profound firmament, descending like a heavenly cascade, pouring down like endless thunder and lightning.
Between heaven and earth, blade qi surged in a boundless, sweeping tide.
Below, all the vegetation in the primeval forest lost its color. Before the distant blade light could even graze the foliage, the leaves withered and dropped ahead of time, plunging the world into bleak desolation as if deep winter had abruptly fallen.
Many felt their spirits quiver, beating a hasty retreat into the distance. Even grandmasters fell back, fearing they might be caught in the crossfire.
Some of the weaker youths collapsed to the ground, crushed across the void by that intangible domain.
Elders moved swiftly, escorting those youths who had come for battlefield experience far away; otherwise, they would soon be pulverized by the invisible blade light.
Chi!
Sword qi pierced the heavens!
Qin Ming made his move, breaking the saber intent with sword light.
Before the onlookers' eyes, an endless expanse of luminous beams filled the sky. Amid the clashing flashes of blades and swords, the two collided in ferocious slaughter—a clash of the highest order within conventional realms of power.
No one had expected Butterfly Daoist to wield a saber, let alone possess such fierce tenacity to engage in a bloody brawl against a sword cultivator. In a certain sense, this could be considered a sword duel.
Butterfly Daoist was demonstrating through action that he harbored no fear toward 'One Sword,' who possessed the potential of a supreme sword immortal, daring to fight him in his own domain of expertise.
In reality, Butterfly Daoist's heart was sinking. Perceiving Nine perfection was no laughing matter. Had his realm not been higher, he likely would have failed to stop it, and sword qi might have already penetrated his body.
He was relying on his deeper cultivation to pull what should have been an imbalanced duel back to an even keel.
Beneath the nocturnal shroud, boundless blade light and vast sword qi intertwined in the void, blasting apart the clouds and scattering the night mists.
In a daze, onlookers seemed to behold towering waves of blade light crashing against the sky, accompanied by a surging, tempestuous river of sword qi—magnificent and terrifying in equal measure.
The two figures engaged in savage combat, their battlefield ablaze with dazzling brilliance.
Resplendent blade qi and radiant sword light raged across the high skies, resembling sweeping star rivers tumbling from the celestial canopy to flood the mortal realm below.
Even as they battled here, bloody clashes erupted in other corners.
For instance, Yun Jianyue was currently engaging an Abyss King, while Qian Cheng had squared off against the Eight-Headed Dragon.
Peak clashes within conventional power limits were playing out across the border between the enclaves and the Crimson Forest.
With sword light like a thousand rolls of thunder and blade qi like an ocean, the night sky shone with blinding clarity. Bathed in lightning, the two darted through the boundless curtain of light, exchanging blow after relentless blow.
A slight curve lifted the corner of Butterfly Daoist's mouth. Even as he swung his blade, he was laying a trap. As his Daoist robe fluttered, the white mist encircling him grew denser.
Only members of the Celestial race knew how unfathomable his methods truly were.
His true form was a species of demonic butterfly. The moment he fluttered his wings, infinitely minuscule divine particles drifted downward, nearly impossible to detect in time with the naked eye or spiritual perception.
The denser the immortal mist around him grew, the closer his hallucinogenic divine particles were to exerting their terrifying effect.
"Hm?" Butterfly Daoist suddenly sensed something amiss; his own spirit experienced a brief flicker of trance.
He was instantly appalled. Had he fallen under a hallucination first?
With a squelch, a sword thrust pierced his abdomen, carving a clean, translucent hole straight through his body. That nine-colored sword baleful aura was truly indestructible.
Qin Ming also felt something wrong as an anomaly surfaced in his spiritual domain. He immediately raised his defenses to the absolute limit!
In truth, when expanding his Primal Chaos Sword Domain earlier, he had specifically channeled a hallucinogenic spirit field modeled after the Great Dream Divine Mushroom, which could subtly influence surrounding conscious entities.
The spiritual radiance of both fighters was exceptionally keen, and both instantly realized they had suffered an initial affliction from each other's trick.
A streak of blade light grazed Qin Ming's shoulder, cleaving through his standard-issue armor and releasing a wisp of blood mist.
With a rustle, both fighters teleported backward simultaneously, executing spiritual arts to purge the hallucinogenic domains from their minds.
Qin Ming sneered in disgust, "You overgrown moth, shedding powder all over the place while fighting. Filthy."
Butterfly Daoist retorted impassively, "Are you any better? You are only insulting yourself."
The wound on his abdomen had already knit shut, and even the patterned black Daoist robe had restored itself to pristine condition.
Raising his saber once more, mysterious runes rippled outward, condensing in his hand into a dazzling blade that pointed forward before slashing down.
In an instant, heaven and earth seemed to tear apart. Blade qi wailed like the shrieks of ghosts and gods. Beyond the vast expanse of blade light, terrifying shock waves rocked the realm.
Across the Yujing camp, many faces changed slightly.
The experts of the Celestial race smiled, looking pleased.
With Butterfly Daoist as the epicenter, divine light crisscrossed as silk threads billowed forth, weaving an all-encompassing web across the heavens and the earth.
The Celestials knew what this was: the famed Undying Silkworm Scripture.
Butterfly Daoist's true form was a demonic butterfly, but tracing his origins back to the beginning, he had originally been a wingless worm. Only after obtaining the Undying Silkworm Scripture and mastering it to a profound, mystical level did his life stage undergo a metamorphic leap.
He was a butterfly, yet also a worm; he was now unleashing the core mysteries of the scripture cultivated to full mastery.
Silken radiance choked the sky, partitioning the night into numerous domains. The undying silkworm's power was ceaseless and inexhaustible, forming a dense web of order intended to bind the foe.
Fearless, Qin Ming stood amidst the web. In his right hand, the nine-colored sword baleful aura erupted with glorious beams, indestructible and absolute.
With a single swing of his sword, silken light shattered.
Around him, though the silk seemed endless like a star river woven across the sky, it could not withstand his sword glare. Wherever the nine-colored sword light swept, the web-like structures fractured and blew apart in massive swathes.
Yet the Undying Silkworm Scripture lived up to the word 'undying' in every respect; the severed strands of silk and surging divine light reconnected automatically.
Butterfly Daoist sought to transform this expanse into an inescapable cage, sealing his opponent within.
With a thunderous roar, thunder and fire flared violently within Qin Ming's nine-colored sword light. He fused the Script of the Primal Myriad Thunderbolts into the blade while releasing the Four Samadhi True Fire, intent on igniting this space and blasting the silken cage to dust.
Sure enough, thunder and fire swept outward as if to incinerate the heavens, wild, untamed forces rampaging across the night sky.
"Undying is the true essence!" Butterfly Daoist murmured softly.
The night sky transformed, as though the two were now enclosed within a unique battlefield isolated from the mortal realm.
As silken threads intertwined, streams of yin and yang qi flowed forth, neutralizing the thunder and fire to cool the area. Using his flesh, blood, and spirit as a medium, Butterfly Daoist manifested a grand panorama.
He fully materialized the power of the Undying Silkworm Scripture, unveiling its terrifying domain.
In the void, beyond the crisscrossing silk and divine light, densely packed characters glittered everywhere. The scripture assumed tangible form to suppress the adversary.
Most terrifying of all, the divine grub spat light to weave complex patterns, including an array of weapons and celestial charts.
Even Qin Ming felt a jolt of alarm. Silk-woven swords, caldrons, precious braziers—innumerable wondrous treasures, all shaped from silk spun by the divine grub, filled the void.
Butterfly Daoist stood deep within the silken web as ten thousand weapons chimed in unison, combining their might to suppress 'One Sword.'
Qin Ming cleaved caldrons, extinguished braziers, and bored through pagodas, finding the battle increasingly troublesome as his opponent's conceptual domain continued to evolve without pause.
Meanwhile, the tangible silk and divine light cycled ceaselessly, never extinguishing.
Some strands of silk even breached his guard, coiling around Qin Ming to bind him, while streaks of divine light sliced through his standard armor, the silken glow threatening to bite into his flesh.
The divine grub spat endless silk as divine light surged perpetually.
With a deafening rumble, Qin Ming used his spirit field to manifest a sword domain, layering it with nine-colored sword baleful aura. Yin, yang, the five elements, wind, and thunder—all nine great domains expanded outward from him in a terrifying spectacle resembling an all-domain cataclysmic detonation.
The cage was shattered. The silken light dimmed, the crisscrossing web burned away, and the conjured weapons detonated and disintegrated one after another.
Butterfly Daoist coughed up blood, a streak of sword light striking him squarely in the chest.
"Perceiving Nine perfection... it truly lives up to the legends," he remarked with genuine feeling. With a wipe of his hand, the wound on his chest vanished and his body fully restored itself, demonstrating the full essence of his undying nature.
Teleporting backward, Butterfly Daoist spoke in a calm voice: "Have you ever experienced inescapable despair?"
Ripples cascaded outward from him in layers like water waves and shackles, circling out to envelop Qin Ming and trap him within.
"I have experienced it firsthand," Butterfly Daoist said softly. He was performing a profound art aligned with his past experiences, recreating a specific state of mind.
With a thunderous rumble, silken light gathered densely. This time, it wove neither words nor weapons, but rather an expanse of glittering stars accompanied by an ancient coffin, descending heavily toward his opponent.
Qin Ming's hairs stood on end. This scripture seemed almost alive; in manifesting its deepest mysteries, it produced bizarre phenomena that threatened to cross the threshold from nothingness into reality.
Having once engaged in spirit wandering to the Great Thunder Sound Temple, he knew certain miraculous visions corresponded to real objects. Had an ancient coffin truly been buried alongside a sea of stars in the distant past?
Now, the divine resonance of the stars and the coffin manifested together, bearing down to suppress him.
In a flash, Qin Ming was plunged into absolute darkness, stripped of all sight.
He realized he had likely entered the interior of the coffin, entombed beneath the stars.
Butterfly Daoist's voice resounded deep and powerful, penetrating the darkness to echo in Qin Ming's ears and mind: "The scripture materializes, the astral coffin descends to earth. Seal the spirit for five thousand autumns, bury all of this life—"
It sounded like a technique, yet also like a solemn ritual.
What living being in this world could survive five thousand years? This was meant to seal the opponent completely, draining his lifespan to exhaustion.
Was this the inescapable despair Butterfly Daoist had once endured?
Qin Ming looked around. He felt as though he were standing within an abyss, surrounded entirely by blackness. When he attempted to muster his strength, he met only vast, empty void.
He furrowed his brows. This place was truly bizarre. Was he really sealed inside an astral coffin? Was this a domain of consciousness, or an actual physical realm? The boundary between illusion and reality was blurring.
Just then, an overwhelming drowsiness washed over him. He felt an urge to slumber, to hibernate, to quietly wait to break out of a cocoon.
Qin Ming felt himself losing control, on the verge of falling into an endless sleep right here.
In the next instant, terror struck him. His spiritual radiance flared bright and clear, accompanied by sword light imbued with Perceiving Nine perfection that illuminated his mental domain and restored his clarity.
Enlightenment dawned on Qin Ming. He realized what this place truly was. It could not possibly be some star-entombed coffin.
Such a thing might have existed in ancient times.
In this era, how could Butterfly Daoist have experienced such a thing? This was nothing more than... a silkworm cocoon, or the shell of a pupa.
Qin Ming reasoned that when Butterfly Daoist was still a mere grub, he had survived a near-fatal brush with death. This was his ordeal of attempting to metamorphose into a butterfly—sealed in darkness, unable to break the cocoon or shell, nearly perishing inside.
In truth, that was part of the reality. Furthermore, Butterfly Daoist was currently holding a piece of a cocoon, utilizing an ancient wondrous treasure to seal his foe.
Runes surfaced across Qin Ming's entire body as Chaos force densely gathered. At this moment, the three cultivation paths he pursued merged together, unleashing a world-shaking wave of power.
Sensing his surroundings from within the dark, his only desire was to shatter this realm immediately.
With a sudden flash, axe intent surged from his heart. Magnificent brilliance manifested from his inner landscape, condensing into a vast, boundless light laden with tribulation qi that erupted from Qin Ming's physical body, brimming with sheer slaughtering force.
With a colossal boom, the so-called star-entombed coffin shattered.
Radiating murderous intent, Qin Ming broke free.
Butterfly Daoist was sent flying by the impact, his technique violently interrupted. Reeling from the backlash, a trail of blood spilled from the corner of his mouth.
He swiftly adjusted his stance, weaving a web with his spirit, while the faint silhouette of magnificent wings unfurled behind his back.
Qin Ming erupted with all his might. Nine-colored sword baleful aura surged heaven and earth, pouring forth relentlessly to pierce the night sky and blanket everything ahead.
Butterfly Daoist was now a butterfly; he was bound to possess methods suited to that form.
Having just bested his worm form, Qin Ming had no intention of falling into his rhythm again. Striking him down right now was the ideal move.
Amid shrill shrieks of wind, Qin Ming went all out. Runes blossomed as sword qi swept forward like a bursting star river. Paying no heed to the cost, he was prepared to drain himself completely if it meant pulverizing his foe first.
Butterfly Daoist's pupils contracted as he attempted to evade. Yet before a sword cultivator bordering on berserk, evasion proved impossible; the sword light had locked onto him.
"Ah—!" he roared in agony as several parts of his body were punctured by the sword light. Even his face took a direct hit, half of it blown apart by the strike.
"He can endure this much?" Qin Ming unleashed yet another method. Golden threads flared brilliantly within his body, wrapping tightly around the sword light as they slashed out together!
Chapter 555