Sword Lord had always been supremely confident in his speed, never expecting the Abyssal Heavenly Lord's wings to differ so greatly from the rest of the Winged Clan. Though his one-stroke sword technique could easily sever those wings, he could never approach the Heavenly Lord’s true form. In desperation, he could only call out to Night Wind again, "Lend me strength once more."

"No need for you!" Night Wind flashed into motion, nimbly dodging the Heavenly Lord’s feathers, using them as springboards to leap skyward. He held a golden dagger, poised to close the distance to the Heavenly Lord, and a killing intent instantly saturated the air.

"You think this is enough to succeed?" The Heavenly Lord continued to soar, widening the distance between them. To everyone’s surprise, he suddenly pushed both palms outward, transforming his internal energy into palm force that shot out like two beams of cold light toward the two figures below.

"Ah…" Even Night Wind, usually so self-assured, hadn't anticipated that the supposedly superior Winged Clan leader would also practice the human art of palm force. No matter how exquisite his movement technique, there was no chance to evade; he took the full force of the blow, spat out a mouthful of blood, and plummeted toward the ground.

"Clang…" Sword Lord swung his blade to defend, but he too was repelled several yards away. He understood that without forcing the Abyssal Heavenly Lord to the ground, victory was impossible. But looking at the situation—the army of archers below and his own predicament—he saw no path to victory.

"Ten Thousand Swords Overthrow the City!" At this moment, a calm utterance sounded like a ghostly summons. A streak of azure sword light shot up from the canyon floor, striking the Abyssal Heavenly Lord’s wings precisely and shearing off those very wings of Profound Heaven.

"..." The Abyssal Heavenly Lord frowned, adjusting his posture to fall gently, but the sheer power of that last strike baffled him.

"Is that the City Lord?" Sword Lord felt a surge of joy. He vaulted up and landed lightly against the canyon wall. Had the Myriad Sword Black Tiger already dealt with the Beast Race and come to his aid?

"It's not the City Lord!" Night Wind’s mournful figure flickered onto the ground. His feeling hadn't been wrong; he knew the sword qi of the Myriad Sword Black Tiger felt nothing like this. Then who could it be?

Where the Abyssal Heavenly Lord landed, he was far from the main canyon battle. He gasped for breath, disoriented. Through a moment of carelessness, his wings had been severed, and the strength of this swordsman was clearly superior to his own.

"For the sake of the Winged Clan lending me a hand, you must die today!" A figure arrived coldly, standing squarely before the Abyssal Heavenly Lord. This person wore azure robes, a luxurious sash at the waist, and held a slender longsword.

"You are…" The Abyssal Heavenly Lord’s face turned ashen, yet he was deeply skeptical of the figure's identity. "How can it be you? Why is your power so immense!"

The newcomer raised the sword in his hand high, his brow devoid of mercy. "Of course it is I. The leader of the Winged Clan died by the Myriad Sword Arts' Eight Directions Myriad Swords technique. Tell me, how deep is the hatred of the Winged Clan toward the Myriad Sword Black Tiger?"

"Myriad Sword Azure Qilin!" The Abyssal Heavenly Lord struggled to rise but was too weak to fight. He knew he finally understood everything; he knew why the person before him was acting this way. "So you want to…"

"Eight Directions Myriad Swords!" Without waiting for the Abyssal Heavenly Lord to finish his sentence, Qilin’s Spring Rain Startling Swan indeed fell like spring rain upon the Heavenly Lord’s entire body, instantly causing blood to spray uncontrollably.

"Abyssal Heavenly Lord, you are finally the first person to die by my sword." Qilin casually flicked his sword back into its sheath and laughed eerily. "Myriad Sword Black Tiger, we have both achieved our goals, haven't we? Hahahaha!"

Chapter Two Hundred and Eighteen Chapter Two Hundred and Eighteen

The northern wind pierced the frigid expanse of Heaven Valley. The Winged Clan army and the human archer contingent were still locked in combat, but outside the valley floor, the corpse of the Abyssal Heavenly Lord had already grown cold.

"This sword wound is definitely from the Myriad Sword Arts." Sword Lord knelt, studying the riddled corpse before him intently. "The cultivation required for the Myriad Sword Arts is at least on par with the City Lord. If it wasn't the City Lord, who else could it be?"

Night Wind’s spectral figure flickered out as well. He sighed. "Within Myriad Sword City, besides the City Lord, there is only one other person who has reached that level of cultivation in the Myriad Sword Arts."

"You mean Myriad Sword Azure Qilin!" Sword Lord looked toward Night Wind, the dried blood of the Heavenly Lord still on his fingers. "Didn't the City Lord say that his third brother, Myriad Sword Qilin, hadn't even broken through the sixth realm yet? How could he unleash the Eight Directions Myriad Swords technique?"

"In any case, let’s head back first." With that, Night Wind sorrowfully walked away, vanishing into the valley.

Sword Lord also gave a cold smile, looking at the warriors fighting in the valley. "The goal of this battle has been achieved. Who cares about the life or death of others now? You can fend for yourselves."

"Swish, swish." The Winged Clan and the humans continued to exchange arrows. Occasionally, a fallen Winged Clansman or human soldier would engage in swordplay, but who paid attention to the larger picture? When a general achieves fame, it is built upon ten thousand bones; the low-ranking soldiers never had the luxury of understanding the power struggles of their leaders. By the time they realized their chief and their commanding general were no longer on the battlefield, their own lives were practically forfeit.

...

The night was cold, and the desolate Gobi desert was colder than ordinary regions. The sand that had been flowing earlier was now soaked, frozen, and cracked apart.

"Ah…" The muffled sounds of struggle and roars from the Beast Race occasionally drifted out. Myriad Sword Black Tiger and the Black Sword Guards all knew the decisive battle had arrived.

"I hope the forces you summoned can successfully cover me as I reach the Desolate Forest," Black Tiger said coldly, glancing at Zuo Wencheng, then at the people behind him raising their swords. "This is the moment to eradicate the Beast Race. All of you, follow me into the Desolate Forest; leave no one alive."

"Kill!" The Black Sword Guards, brimming with ferocity, charged into the Gobi with their swords raised, running headlong into the remnants of the Beast Race who had yet to form ranks. The Black Sword Guards advanced in small squads of six, forming a circle to cut down the Beast Race members. This formation was called the Six Sword Formation. Every guard within the formation possessed a similar martial cultivation level, allowing each side to withstand attacks from all directions. If hundreds or thousands of these formations could be assembled, they could mutually reinforce each other to form the ultimate invincible sword array.

"Hoo… hoo…" The Beast Race responded with a desperate counterattack. Their bravery lay in their complete disregard for death. Facing the human sword formations, they bent low and used high speed to counter the formation’s movements. Though lacking unified command, they fought with wild fervor. Some Orcs charged forward to draw the formation's attention, while the more agile ones leaped into the air, attempting to break the formation from above.

"Not good! All formations, guard the overhead area! Six Swords Return to the West!" Although Zuo Wencheng was not directly in the fray, he had designed the Six Sword Formation. Six Swords Return to the West required the six guards in the array to move onto a single plane—that is, to leap into the air—thereby escaping entanglement below and focusing entirely on attacks from above.

"Ah, swoosh, swoosh!" The Beast Race, relying on brute force over strategy, could not withstand such a sudden change and were hacked down as they fell. However, they did not cease resisting. On the Gobi surface, it was the Beast Horde against the Sword Formations. While the quicksand could no longer be utilized, the ice layer above the quicksand cracked audibly under the intensity of the battle.

"Eight Directions Myriad Swords!" Black Tiger also grew impatient and unleashed his ultimate move, intending to clear the path. The Lightning Flash Thunderclap ejected countless sword edges that rapidly swept across the Gobi, slaughtering them until corpses littered the ground. "Kill them all! Leave no survivors!"

The Black Sword Guards were further spurred on by Black Tiger. Leaping and slashing, charging and stabbing, relying on the formation's mobility, they pressed in on the Beast Race members. Just then, where the edge of the Gobi met the Desolate Forest, another large contingent of the Beast Race surged forth.

"The entire Beast Race is mobilized for war; this situation might turn against our army!" Zuo Wencheng surveyed the overall battle, his tension rising intermittently. "It would be better to lure the Beast Race away from the Gobi quicksand so our rear support teams can join the battle."

"No matter!" Myriad Sword Black Tiger understood Zuo Wencheng's meaning, but he was confident. Forget tens of thousands of soldiers; even a hundred thousand would be mere ants before him. He decisively turned around and shouted at the human army, "All of you, retreat to the rear!"

"This…" Not only Zuo Wencheng but all the soldiers were stunned by Black Tiger’s command. The Beast Race forces surging up from beneath the Gobi numbered in the millions, their dense flashing blades enough to strike fear into the heart. "City Lord, don't…"

Myriad Sword Black Tiger glared fiercely, raised the Lightning Flash Thunderclap toward the heavens, and let out a long roar: "Myriad Sword Arts Ninth Realm: Myriad Sword Splendor!"

"Rumble…" At this moment, the sky changed drastically. The ice cracked, and night instantly turned into day. A violent wind swept across the entire desert, causing even the incoming Beast Race members to raise their hands to shield their eyes.

Myriad Sword Black Tiger stood firm. The frozen quicksand layer beneath his feet had visibly sunk by a good five feet. In an instant, all the flashing blades and sword shadows, all the wind and sand, and the fading clouds converged around him. He held his sword against his chest, revealing bursts of purple energy that flowed alternately over his arms and across his forehead. Veins visibly swelled across his entire body.

"What is this? What kind of power is this!" Zuo Wencheng, though unskilled in martial arts, had never witnessed the Myriad Sword Azure Dragon possessing such cultivation. Black Tiger’s power had utterly surpassed his comprehension.

"Kill!" Although the Beast Race members still uttered cries of battle, their movements were largely stiffening. Faced with the world-shaking power of Myriad Sword Black Tiger, all they could do was wait.

"Boom…" A sound of heaven and earth collapsing ensued, causing gods and ghosts to weep in lamentation. Myriad Sword Black Tiger shot upward with a roar, accompanied by endless purple sword shadows. He spread his arms wide, and those so-called purple sword shadows scattered like a violent storm in all directions. Where the sword shadows struck the sky, they whipped up devastating winds and clouds; where they struck the ground, they churned up the sand; where the sword shadows struck beings, they tore them apart. With every moment the shadows scattered and overlapped, they coalesced into an even more powerful blade light, transforming from shadow to light to mercilessly hunt down those attempting to flee. In that instant, there were no living beings left between heaven and earth.

"Roar!" Following the immense sound, the entire Desolate Gobi seemed to have been excavated five feet deep. The earth was a gruesome tableau of mixed blood and shredded flesh, sand interspersed with scrap metal, all utterly ruined.