Free Web NovelChapter 2581: Chapter 127: The World Pities Me, and I Pity the World! (Part 2)
Life or death, right before their eyes!
And then he saw it: that undying scarlet-gold in Jiang Wang’s eyes, in this instant blazing through his whole body, casting him in the image of a Golden Body Buddha. In this seemingly endless fall, he drew out yet another dazzling sword.
The Tao Path Sword!
The moment when the whole world stands as your enemy does not belong to Zhang Linchuan alone; Jiang Wang has lived it too.
Even when he was openly wanted by the Mirror world Platform, spat on by everyone under heaven, there were always some who believed in him, who supported him, who fought to clear his name.
Of course, there were always people running around for Zhang Linchuan as well—either figuring out how to get far enough away not to be dragged down with him, or figuring out how to catch up and kill him.
Jiang Wang has had his darkest times, and he has had his most glorious.
In darkness, the world all thought he Communicated with Demons; in glory, the world all knew him as an Unparalleled Genius, who with a single word annihilated the Church of Lifeless.
Between darkness and brilliance, between trough and peak, the one thing that never changed was that "self."
And so this form of True Self Dao Sword came to be—
If it is not myself praising myself, then it is not me at all!
This was the second True Self Dao Sword he had devised since "The Dipper points north, and all under heaven is winter," an insight gained on that ten-thousand-li distant hunt for Zhang Linchuan.
This sword splits into two forms: press it down, and the whole world slanders you; lift it up, and the whole world praises you.
In the endless fall, Jiang Wang lifted this sword!
The snow-pale Sword Edge actually slashed out in five-colored radiance.
That was countless praises, infinite flattery, the gaudy glimmer of worldly luxury and indulgence without end.
Bizarre and resplendent, drifting and unreal.
Under this sword, everything seemed to lose its weight, to misplace its "self." Countless dusky bolts of lightning turned into one illusory bubble after another, stripped of their fundamental killing essence.
Even Zhang Linchuan himself was invaded by this Sword Intent; his body flickered in and out, shifting from a truly terrifying powerhouse into a nebulous, insubstantial bubble.
This sword was devastating to the Divine Way.
The Divine Way is, in many moments, a condensation of illusion, the Power of Faith coalescing into a Deity, Delusion solidified into True.
Yet this form of Dao Sword uses extravagance to exaggerate extravagance, dreamscape to gild mirage.
Because it is too ostentatious, too false, it erases that last shred of "True" within the Divine Way.
The plunge of the red tide had already halted.
The five-colored Sword Edge lifted upward.
Jiang Wang’s Dao Sword was that powerful.
But in the shattered shadows of ghostly thunder, the cool eyes of Zhang Linchuan clearly reflected the outline of Longing.
Stripping away the bizarre brilliance, he glimpsed the true face of the sword.
Then his fist hammered down on the sword tip!
Once I had hundreds of thousands of followers, each one worshiping me as a Deity.
What of being praised by the whole world—has it ever swayed my Taoist Heart?
The world’s acclaim for you, Jiang Wang—I, Zhang Linchuan, have long since tasted the same!
Clang!
Fist and sword rang like clashing gold and iron.
The sound was truly like a warning bell pealing!
Crack, crack, crack, crack.
With clear sounds of bone breaking, Jiang Wang’s sword-wielding right hand fractured inch by inch and drooped down. His left hand shot out, seizing the sword that had flown loose. But he himself fell once more, blood scattering across the vast sky.
And Zhang Linchuan stood firm in the High vault, glancing at his fist that had been cut more than halfway through by the Sword Edge, and at the blood that would not be fully stemmed as it continued to drip from his knuckles—the Sword Intent was too sharp, rampaging within; even for him, it would take time to carefully scour it out.
He looked somewhat complexly at the falling Jiang Wang; it was precisely this form of Dao Sword that stirred unspeakable emotion in him—not because of the sword’s might, but because of the unshakable, ten-thousand-generations Tao-seeking heart it embodied.
In a certain sense, he and Jiang Wang were the same kind of person. Both emerged from small places, both clung to the self, unchanging for ages, doing their utmost with every step, doing it as well as it could be done.
The only difference was that his choices had always been "what is best for me," whereas Jiang Wang, in many moments, was staking his life for others. He cut off emotion and severed nature, never trusting anyone. Jiang Wang, who had stared into the same abyss, still retained the courage to trust and the heart to love.
Here, fate split in two.
He had indeed achieved a greater personal strength, had hardened his wings in a dark world; yet he also truly felt the splendor of that man across from him, upon whom the grand tide had descended.
He did not think he had done anything wrong, nor would he deny Jiang Wang’s choices. He had always believed one thing—that no one is right or wrong in themselves; the one who dies is the one who was wrong.
"Earlier, in Yue Country, I met someone similar, who moved me for a time. But I think you are the one who truly walks my road."
Zhang Linchuan thus spoke: "I think we are roughly the same kind of people. We work hard, we never give up, we are resolute—so resolute it could be called stubbornness... Jiang, I admit that if you can survive, you truly have the qualification to stand at the Absolute Summit with me and vie for the title of strongest."
To speak wildly of being "the strongest"!
How vast is the world of the living, how countless the strong; even a Yandao True Monarch is not rare, and above the Absolute Summit exist beings of even greater might.
And yet an insignificant Furry God whose highest achievement is merely that of a True God dares to prattle here of being "the strongest"!
But when that person is Zhang Linchuan, it is very hard to feel he is joking.
You might even feel... it may not be impossible.
Boom!
Zhang Linchuan had already begun his rapid descent; he charged from the High vault toward the ground, he sprinted toward Jiang Wang, he punched toward Jiang Wang: "I acknowledge your uncommon temperament and capacity, Jiang, so at least in this Fourth Tribulation... let me beat you to death!"
Killing has always been only a casual act, just one way of achieving a goal. The way Zhang Linchuan truly shows respect for someone is to make killing that person his goal in itself, without attaching any other value to it.
Endless ripples spread out from this fist as their core, expanding in all directions.
