A pagoda slammed into the back of his head, leaving him seeing stars and unable to move for a moment.

The Heavenly King, a god-demon who usually fought with a certain straightforward dignity, had apparently spent too much time consorting with the Dark Demon Lord and had picked up tricks like sneak attacks and tripping hazards. This blow landed hard, leaving Abbot Kongchan immobilized for a long while.

Feng Zikang offered the Heavenly King an approving smile as the sword light swept in, severing the head!

“Pfft—!”

A spout of black blood jetted from Abbot Kongchan’s neck, and he collapsed limply.

The severed head flew away, gnashing its teeth in fury. Opening its mouth, it spewed a blast of black miasma enveloping its Natal Sarira, charging straight toward Feng Zikang.

“The Battle of the Hwan Beast!” Feng Zikang didn't try to block head-on. He sidestepped the attack. The Natal Sarira possessed boundless power, far beyond his ability to withstand. However, Abbot Kongchan’s Six Yang Apex was now separated, and he was trapped within the Four Symbols God-Demon Array. Furthermore, this divine ability consumed his vital essence. How long could he hold out?

As expected, the Natal Sarira pursued Feng Zikang for a long time, gradually losing its original momentum. The pervasive black miasma gradually dissipated, and the demonic runes engraved upon the Sarira slowly faded.

Looking back at Abbot Kongchan’s head, despite its evasive maneuvers, it was being kicked around like a ball by the four divine-demon statues. In no time, it was bruised, swollen, withered, and exhausted.

Seeing that the situation was ripe, Feng Zikang sneered, turned back, and executed a swift slash. The white sword light swept past, slicing the Natal Sarira in half. Amidst Abbot Kongchan’s mournful cry, it spontaneously corroded, dissolving into black water.

Abbot Kongchan’s head let out a final, pitiful wail before falling to the ground and similarly turning into black water, flowing away like a trickle. “What a pity… What a pity…”

The dozen or so monastic soldiers currently entangled with Long Que simultaneously dissolved into black smoke and dispersed into the air the moment Abbot Kongchan died.

Abbot Kongchan’s body also turned to black water at the same instant, leaving not a trace behind.

“Truly a pity…” Feng Zikang shook his head with a sigh. He hadn't expected the demonic path mastery cultivated by Abbot Kongchan to be so domineering; upon death, everything dissolved into black water, leaving no residue whatsoever. He wasn't concerned about the monk's corpse; the key was that valuable items like the Natal Sarira and the Monastic Soldier Tokens were also annihilated along with him—a truly lamentable waste.

Huo Zhongguang was staring blankly. This Junior Brother San had annihilated a mid-stage Foundation Establishment expert while chatting and laughing, and yet he seemed somewhat dissatisfied.

Mid-stage Foundation Establishment!

It had once been a realm he looked up to. Although he eventually succeeded in his own Foundation Establishment, the deeply ingrained awe in his heart made it impossible for Huo Zhongguang to imagine combat being so effortless.

“Stop gawking here. Go see if there are any good items left…”

Feng Zikang clapped his hands. Although killing Abbot Kongchan yielded no tangible spoils, the battle had given him fresh insight into fighting cultivators at the Foundation Establishment stage, making it worthwhile. Influencing the opponent's seven emotions and six desires during combat, he mused, also required considerable finesse.

His primary reason for entering the Xun Palace was the Star Light Great Annihilation Sword Art divine ability. Now that the enemy was eliminated, he naturally did not linger and headed straight for the damaged West Wing.

That was the great hall Huo Zhongguang had accidentally entered. Faint sword energy still lingered there, causing Huo Zhongguang to glance over with trepidation, daring not to approach.

Feng Zikang smiled. He could sense the residual, utterly destructive sword energy, but since it had mostly dissipated, there was nothing truly to fear. He sauntered into the West Wing.

It was a scene of utter devastation.

It was evident that shelves for books once lined the walls, but they must have been pulverized into fine dust by that illusory sword energy in a single strike, leaving nothing behind.

Huo Zhongguang finally crept in, patting around, and sighed at the sight.

“What a wasteful tragedy! Why practice swordplay in a study?”

This was also a point of confusion for Feng Zikang. This strand of sword energy had accumulated there for countless years, and only when the spiritual energy was subtly agitated did it suddenly erupt the moment Huo Zhongguang entered the estate. It had not only destroyed the study but also annihilated the collected secret scrolls of divine abilities along with it.

“Truly a pity…” Huo Zhongguang squatted by the wall, touching the ashes, remembering the stacks of divine methods and mental cultivation techniques, nearly weeping. Feng Zikang, however, walked slowly to the center of the room. The figure of the white-robed man wielding a sword and dancing, which Huo Zhongguang had seen before, was gone, but the indelible mark of invincible sword energy remained vividly clear.

In the exact center of the room, there was a small white point of light. Feng Zikang approached cautiously, not daring to disturb it, merely observing intently and murmuring to himself.

Huo Zhongguang kept his distance, still deeply fearful of this spot.

Feng Zikang pondered for a long moment, then looked up. The entire roof had been blown away by the effect of the previous sword energy burst, revealing the indifferent stars of this bizarre, profound realm.

That white point of light was certainly not starlight, but rather a sliver of residual Sword Soul left after the sword energy exploded.

Feng Zikang hesitated for a while before finally extending his hand, gently touching the point of Sword Soul. It felt warm to the touch. When he lightly flicked it, Feng Zikang found he couldn't grasp it.

He let out a soft breath, sat cross-legged, closed his eyes to gather his spirit, and his iron sword floated before him, radiating white light, standing upright in the air.

“Good heavens!” Huo Zhongguang was knowledgeable enough to recognize that tiny mote of Sword Soul as the original culprit behind the sword energy explosion, containing the essence of the sword intent and the method for absorbing killing aura into the body. He could personally feel the power of the Sword Soul.

It was no wonder his cultivation grew so rapidly. Huo Zhongguang had been with Feng Zikang for a long time, witnessing firsthand his diligence and life-risking efforts, coupled with extraordinary natural talent; such an achievement was not surprising.

“Could it be that the Demonic Path is destined to rise?”

Up to this point, Huo Zhongguang still did not know exactly what demonic path Feng Zikang cultivated, nor did he dare to ask. But his Junior Brother’s myriad strange skills couldn't possibly have been taught by Uncle-Master Ye from the Small Bamboo Grove, could they?

Hearing Feng Zikang let out a soft shout, seeing that the white light point remained motionless, he summoned his sword light, and a beam of white light shot out, piercing directly toward the white point.

“Bang!”

Huo Zhongguang saw a blur before his eyes, and ten thousand strands of sword energy erupted, terrifying him into scrambling away, clutching his head!

Feng Zikang laughed heartily. As expected, the white light point still contained traces of sword energy. Although it had long since weakened, possessing less than a thousandth of the power of the strike Huo Zhongguang had witnessed previously, the profound principles within were perfectly intact! Under the pressure of his own sword energy, it violently exploded!

He opened both eyes wide, determined to memorize the trajectory of every single sword stroke.

However, the sword technique was too intricate and complex. The sword energy danced wildly, numbering ten thousand strands, and each strand further split into ten thousand more, resulting in a staggering tens of millions of lines crossing back and forth. Feng Zikang felt dizzy and could still find no clue. He hardened his resolve, opened his mouth, and inhaled, intending to draw the myriad beams of sword light, along with the white point of light, into his abdomen!

“Junior Brother, no!”

Huo Zhongguang, hiding in the corner, was utterly shocked. Was it truly safe to simply draw this thing into one's body? This Sword Soul was razor-sharp; a single strike held world-destroying might. How could a fragile human body withstand it? If the sword light pierced through him, tearing his body apart, what then?

Feng Zikang paid him no mind, swallowing the white point of light in one gulp!

“Hiss—!”

The moment it reached his throat, a thin beam of white sword light, trailing wisps of blood mist, shot out from his throat. Though tiny, it was ferociously lethal!

“Junior Brother!” Huo Zhongguang cried out in horror, yet he dared not approach, only shouting with all his might. Feng Zikang ignored everything else, violently swallowing the Sword Soul, and two more beams of sword light pierced out, one from his chest and one from his back!

Feng Zikang endured the intense pain, swallowed three Genesis Pills, and immediately began cultivating the 'Gentle Spring Nurturing Rain, Subtle and Soundless' divine ability to repair his body, all while trying to decipher the sword technique within.

The sight was agonizing. The Genesis Pills he swallowed and the power of the 'Gentle Spring Nurturing Rain' were capable of mending his body, allowing him to withstand being pierced by a hundred weapons and a thousand blades without fatal harm. But the extreme agony was nearly unbearable!

White sword light occasionally shot out from various points on his body, causing blood to stream down. The 'One Bell' artifact protecting him was pierced through with countless holes and smeared with blood. Yet, immediately after being pierced, under the dual action of the Genesis Pill’s efficacy and the power of the 'Gentle Spring Nurturing Rain,' the wounds would just begin to heal before another wave of sword energy shot out, tearing open an even larger gash.

In the beginning, Feng Zikang resembled a hedgehog discharging electricity all over its body. Every brief moment, several beams of sword light would burst from different parts of his body. At its peak, a hundred beams pierced him simultaneously—a spectacular sight.

Huo Zhongguang was completely stunned, and Long Que was equally dumbfounded. Who practiced the sword to this extent? Using one's own body to endure the power of sword path divine abilities? If it weren't for Feng Zikang’s burgeoning demonic seed, gradually showing signs of forming a demonic fetus, making his body significantly tougher, coupled with the medicinal power of his divine abilities, he would likely have already perished from the violent sword light explosions.

This fierce explosion of sword light lasted for an entire day. It could be said that no part of Feng Zikang’s body had escaped being pierced by the sword energy; the fortunate areas had likely been pierced over ten times each.

He had already consumed three more Genesis Pills, barely managing to sustain the repair of his body. His face was pale, indicating extreme exhaustion.

Fortunately, by this time, the exploding sword light finally began to calm down.

Feng Zikang gradually gained insight: some sword energies could be slowly controlled within his body, prevented from harming himself. Consequently, the number of times he was pierced by sword light decreased significantly. This process evolved gradually over the time it took for an incense stick to burn, until only one or two strikes emerged per period... However, these one or two strikes were usually incomparably fierce, meaning Feng Zikang’s injuries did not lessen much.

“Master… How much longer will this take, Master?”

“How should I know…”

Huo Zhongguang shrugged, indicating he didn't know. However, Feng Zikang was already beginning to show signs of controlling the sword momentum; the dangerous phase was over. But how long it would take to completely unravel this Sword Soul remained unknown.

One thing was certain: by using his own body to experience the power of the sword intent, once Feng Zikang mastered it, the resulting technique would likely not be weaker than the original creator’s sword art.

Huo Zhongguang recalled that world-ending strike and shivered.

“That’s good… that’s very good. If Junior Brother becomes unrivaled under heaven, we will be even safer…” Since he had surrendered his Primordial Spirit Core, he was tied to the same fate as his Junior Brother. The stronger Feng Zikang became, the safer Huo Zhongguang would be, as long as his loyalty remained absolute.

Long Que completely agreed with his assessment.

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