The Suspended Sword Tower

Boom! Boom! Boom! The Tengshe blazed with monstrous fury. Cold flames rained down in streaks, creating a spectacle of breathtaking magnificence. The battle between Qin Sang and Yin Changsheng raised far greater commotion than Tong Lingyu's had. Aside from the Luoyin Blood Pool, the cavern had already been battered beyond recognition. The Tengshe whipped its long tail again and again. Every lashing strike descended like a bolt of blue lightning, its startling destructive power threatening to shatter the Seven Po Killing Array with each blow. Cold flames drifted through the air. Qin Sang and Liuli were like fragile ancients struggling to survive in the bitter depths of winter, clinging to each other in the face of the world's most terrifying beast, on the verge of death at any second, their corpses destined to become a meal in its belly. Liuli entrusted herself entirely to Qin Sang, focusing all her attention on contesting control of the spirit treasure against Yin Changsheng. With one arm holding Liuli close and blood trickling from his seven facial orifices, Qin Sang looked thoroughly wretched as he retreated again and again. The Seven Po Killing Array was truly worthy of being the sole sword array recorded in the Origin Soul Sword Nurturing Chapter. Clashing head-on against a spirit treasure, it skirted collapse time and time again, yet like a phoenix rising from the ashes, it regenerated at the very brink of destruction each time. Yin Changsheng had originally assumed he could take Qin Sang down smoothly this time, but things had not gone as he wished. Qin Sang clearly appeared heavily wounded and teetering on the edge. Yet every time defeat seemed imminent, he would suddenly bring forth renewed strength as if executing some secret art to stimulate his latent potential, obtaining a burst of valor to weather the crisis. At this point, how could Yin Changsheng fail to realize that he had been played! Still, Yin Changsheng would never have imagined that his divine sense attack had not harmed Qin Sang in the slightest. He merely assumed Qin Sang possessed a means to shield his soul, and that his injuries were not as severe as they appeared on the surface. Yin Changsheng flew into a rage. The Tengshe's attacks grew all the more vicious in accordance with its master's state of mind. Qin Sang's thoughts raced. Unable to break through despite repeated assaults, Yin Changsheng was visibly more irritable than at the beginning, the evil art's influence deepening without his notice. If this continued, Tong Lingyu's plan might truly succeed. Even so, Qin Sang constantly felt that handling the situation this way was imprudent. It was no different from pinning his hopes on his opponent. The moment an unexpected variable arose—such as an unforeseen trump card up the enemy's sleeve—everything would come to naught. If Qin Sang could possess the Sun God Tree, could the venerable Palace Master of Xuantian Palace truly have only these methods at his disposal? Looking back across his path of cultivation, Qin Sang had never had the habit of sitting by and awaiting death. Opportunities were always seized through his own initiative, which was precisely how he had turned danger into safety time and again. At that moment, Yin Changsheng repeated his old trick. The Tengshe opened its maw wide, and its body once again merged into the cold flame. The cold flame resembled a chill sun radiating an eerie gleam. The subterranean cavern had completely transformed into an ice cave; had any low-level cultivator entered, they would likely have frozen to death on the spot. Whoosh! The cold flame shot forth. Crashing down like a meteor, its speed was blistering. Qin Sang's expression turned grim. Though he had neutralized crisis after crisis, he had only managed self-preservation so far, completely unable to find an opening to counterattack. It was no different from walking along the brink of a precipice, draining an immense amount of his mental energy. The Jinchen Sword trembled, emitting a clear chime as it gave birth to the sword array once more, loyally shielding its master. Boom! The dazzling stream of fire pierced through the dark sword array, surging with overwhelming momentum to annihilate countless sword threads like snapping dry twigs. True to expectations, the sword array was pierced through once again. Qin Sang had anticipated this long ago. Tightening his arm slightly, he shifted several dozen zhang sideways with Liuli. From the start of the battle until now, he had been circling the edge of the cavern, while keeping his senses firmly locked onto the blood pool, gradually uncovering new details. The aura of the Luoyin Blood Pool seemed to be connected not to Yin Changsheng himself, but to the ice coffin! Swoosh! Before Qin Sang could steady his footing after landing, an anomaly above suddenly triggered an alarm in his mind. Cold mist churned overhead, where a large white hand had appeared without warning. With its five fingers spread, it clawed swiftly toward Liuli like an eagle's talons. Yin Changsheng had anticipated the location where Qin Sang would land, and the great hand moved with such blistering speed that it gave them no time to evade. It bore a few similarities to the secret art executed by the Yue-surnamed cultivator during the trial at the Body Cleansing Pool. However, this white hand was smaller yet far more solid, surpassing the other man's by miles in both speed and power. "Another pinnacle secret art!" Qin Sang sighed inwardly. Who knew how many secret arts Xuantian Palace kept in its archives? Yin Changsheng had not become master of a sect for nothing; pinnacle secret arts emerged from him one after another, leaving Qin Sang scrambling just to respond. Pfft! The hand struck like lightning. In that perilous instant, a flicker of resolve crossed Qin Sang's eyes. Immediately after, a thread of silvery-white lightning shot out from Qin Sang's dantian. Striking second but arriving first, it hit the dead center of the hand's palm. Snap! The giant hand stiffened, then crumbled and dissipated at a visible rate. Qin Sang and Liuli were completely unharmed. A thread of lightning that appeared slender and frail had effortlessly broken this divine ability. Unable to keep concealing it, Qin Sang had been forced to expose another trump card, employing the Heavenly Eye Divine Light to resolve the crisis. Following the Heavenly Eye Butterfly's advancement, the Heavenly Eye Divine Light had also improved slightly, allowing him to grasp timing with even greater precision, and just now had been the ideal moment. Such opportunities rarely presented themselves during a battle, so it could hardly be considered a waste. Even so, this was by no means a good omen for Qin Sang. Each trump card used was one fewer remaining, and Yin Changsheng would undoubtedly guard against it next time, making it far harder to catch him off balance. Seeing his secret art dispelled so inexplicably, Yin Changsheng froze in surprise, wholly unprepared for such an outcome. His eyes stared intently at Qin Sang's dantian. The Heavenly Eye Divine Light had appeared too abruptly for him to discern whether it was a magic treasure or something else. For a moment, the subterranean cavern fell into a brief stillness. "Hah... hah..." Carrying Liuli, Qin Sang flashed to the other side, panting heavily as he quickly popped several spirit pills into his mouth, though they offered only meager relief. The Jinchen Sword silently flew back. Qin Sang stared fixedly at the ice coffin, inwardly on high alert. Yin Changsheng's sudden cessation was abnormal, and when things were out of the ordinary, there was bound to be treachery afoot. "Good!" "Very good!" A sinister voice drifted out from within the ice coffin. Beyond being hoarse, it carried an even thicker trace of madness and palpable fury, sounding thoroughly bizarre. He had grown utterly weary and enraged by Qin Sang's relentless resistance. "To think that there is still someone in this world capable of forcing out my Suspended Sword Tower!" Yin Changsheng's tone abruptly turned chillingly cold. Qin Sang's eyes narrowed as an ominous premonition welled up within him. Tong Lingyu still did not understand her Palace Master well enough! In the next instant, the cold mist inside the ice coffin churned violently. Yin Changsheng's figure flickered indistinctly, appearing as though he were standing up from within the coffin. At the same time, a beam of white light slowly rose from the coffin. Within that white light rested an exquisitely ornate nine-story miniature tower—Yin Changsheng's life-bound magic treasure, the Suspended Sword Tower! The Suspended Sword Tower was crystalline and translucent throughout, looking as if carved from a single block of mystic ice, every engraved design exceedingly refined. All nine stories were hollowed out, devoid of walls, supported solely by four pillars on each level. At the center of every single story hung a sword. Just like the tower itself, the sword bodies were carved from mystic ice, similar in size and form. Yet each blade was inscribed with different patterns and characters, all of which were ancient scripts recognized by very few. Nine stories, nine suspended swords. It was from this that the Suspended Sword Tower took its name. The moment Qin Sang caught sight of the Suspended Sword Tower, his expression shifted drastically, and he felt a genuine threat to his life. Another spirit treasure?