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Chapter 92: Similar artistic conception

However, this sword momentum, capable of splitting mountains and breaking peaks, dissolved into nothingness like snow falling into lava when it entered the starlight vortex. Instead, it stirred up a stronger spatial suction, swallowing him whole into an unknown domain.

At the same time, ten thousand golden rays burst forth from the bottom of Nine Curves Pond. The earth vein water spirits transformed into nine light dragons, spiraling into the sky and dyeing half the firmament a gilded gold.

Yun Qingrao, who had just bathed and changed, preparing to rest, noticed the anomaly. With a light wave of her delicate hand, she transformed into a stream of light and returned, plunging into the golden vortex in the pond without hesitation.

The Disciples of Yixian Palace arrived one after another, only to find that the originally calm pond water had created a repellent barrier, sending Fairy Su Yan and others flying back.

At the crucial moment, Dao Lord Zisu arrived on her sword, and the protective shield formed by her sword qi barely managed to catch everyone.

This Chief of Zhijian Peak stared intently at the bottom of the pond: “A blessed grotto-heaven has appeared!”

Before her words finished, she transformed her body into a sword and directly pierced the barrier. The fierce sword qi carved dozens of deep ravines on Xiao Yao Peak, yet it still failed to break through the Mystic Realm's restrictions.

Qin Heng, who arrived late, looked at the still-spreading golden ripples, barely concealing his shock: “A Mystic Realm that forms its own world? A spiritual domain of this scale must be a land of creation left by ancient mighty cultivators.”

At this moment, the runes circulating on the surface of the pond water intertwined between light and dark, as if narrating secrets sealed for a thousand years.

Deep within the Nine Heavens Mountain Range, the Mystic Realm that had slumbered for ten thousand years finally revealed its true form.

The Disciples on the top of Zhijian Peak looked up at the golden pillar of light soaring into the sky, seeing illusory dragon figures circling within it. Ancient runes flowed in the clouds, as if an ancient Immortal Court had reappeared in the human world.

“Could this be the legendary blessed grotto-heaven?” Dao Lord Zisu’s whisk trembled slightly. “Yun Qingrao already broke through the formation and entered, but we are blocked by the restriction.”

The veins on the back of Qin Heng's sword-holding hand bulged. An ancient Mystic Realm had astonishingly appeared in Beast Taming Sect territory, and while his own Disciples hadn't noticed, the people of Yixian Palace had gotten there first.

At this moment, the cloud-patterned barrier glowed with a cold, ethereal blue light, clearly isolating the Beast Taming Sect members outside.

At this moment, Peak Lord Xia Yu of Tai'a Peak drew runes in the air, spiritual energy stirring ripples layer by layer within the array patterns: “This is the Yellow Dragon Nine Curves Formation, a secret sealing technique of the Dragon race, lost for over ten thousand years.”

His fingertips grazed the hidden dragon scale patterns at the array's core, “If my calculations are correct, the barrier will still need three days to completely dissipate.”

“How did Yun Qingrao break through?” Sect Leader Mu Zhengting’s white brows furrowed tightly, his gaze sweeping over the faintly visible jade palaces and towers in the distance.

Those pavilions and towers suspended in the clouds were covered with moss, yet one could still glimpse the fragments of spirit stones that had once been inlaid there.

Wei Yun Zhenjun, Chief of Dragon Yang Peak, suddenly formed a hand seal. The profound light mirror reflected the surging spiritual spring deep within the Mystic Realm: “The Dragon race’s treasure vault has always contained rare and precious items. A grotto-heaven of this scale is likely even grander than the Dao Sect’s guardian Mystic Realm, the Purple Heaven Mystic Realm, by a third.”

Yuan Feng True Lord, however, stared thoughtfully at the residual sword qi at the edge of the barrier. Those sword marks, integrated with the mountain rock, were clearly imprints left by the Zhijian Peak Elders a thousand years ago.

Who could have imagined that beneath the Suspended Sword Platform, where Beast Taming Sect Disciples had cultivated for generations, lay a shocking ancient secret of the Dragon race?

“Quickly invite the Elders of the Profound Mechanism Pavilion to come out of seclusion!” Mu Zhengting waved his Sect Leader command sword, and nine communication talismans transformed into streams of light, disappearing into the void.

The golden dragon phantom in the clouds suddenly raised its head and let out a long roar. The barrier at the Mystic Realm entrance actually began to accelerate its disintegration, and countless starlight fell like rain, illuminating Xiao Yao Peak as if it were broad daylight.

Several reclusive Elders from Tai'a Peak received the summons and rushed over, each looking vibrant as they circled the newly appeared Mystic Realm, their fingertips trembling slightly as they touched the sealed patterns.

“Nine Revolutions Coiling Dragon Formation! This top-tier Trapping Formation, lost for three thousand years, has reappeared in the world!” The oldest white-browed Elder’s voice trembled, “The last time it appeared was on Ao Pan Dragon Emperor’s Nine Dragon Chariot. That mighty cultivator, along with Celestial Void Daoist, once jointly sought the secrets of heaven and were never heard from again.”

“Looking at the trajectory of these array patterns, it’s likely the Dragon Emperor’s final secluded cultivation spot,” the blue-robed Elder pulled out a jade slip and quickly recorded, “Pay attention to the dragon claw pattern in the third array core; this deformation technique is clearly…”

Mu Zhengting watched as several Martial Uncles surrounded the seal, discussing it animatedly. After enduring for a while, he finally interrupted: “Is there a way to open it earlier?”

“Youngsters are just impatient.” The red-faced Elder waved his sleeve without looking back, “Such ancient grand formations have their own operating rules. They will naturally open at the Chen hour (7-9 AM) in three days when the qi of heaven and earth converge. If you’re so idle, why not go check the mountain-protecting grand formation three more times?”

Xia Yu suddenly squeezed into the crowd, pointing at the faintly visible inscription on the light curtain: “Martial Uncles, please look, the flow of this inscription is like a startled dragon breaking through clouds, and every turn secretly conforms to the true meaning of the sword dao. It must be the genuine work of Senior Ao Pan without a doubt.”

“Precisely!” Several Elders suddenly cheered in unison, “The ‘Nine Chapters of Heavenly Questions’ that the Dragon Emperor and the Daoist discussed the Dao of Sword on the Kunlun Cliffs back then had this exact brushwork.”

Mu Zhengting watched the Elders, who were completely engrossed in academic discussion, and silently retreated to a corner to close his eyes and regulate his breathing.

Three days later, at dawn, as nine dragon roars emanated from the earth veins, the sky suddenly split open with a thousand-zhang golden glow.

As the gilded giant gate slowly opened, couplets formed by ten thousand zhang of sword qi stretched across the sky:

“Qian eight trigrams, Kun eight trigrams, eighty-eight sixty-four trigrams, each trigram’s heaven and earth are set.”

“This old dragon is still making things difficult for future generations even after his death!” Mu Zhengting’s sword-holding hand bulged with veins, and the forty-nine Sword Masters behind him simultaneously pressed their hands on their sword hilts. Qin Heng looked at the golden characters shimmering in the air and sneered: “What use is perfect parallelism? We sword cultivators naturally break all laws with a single sword!”

“If it truly doesn’t work, studying Daoist scriptures is also an option. Such literary dabbling is simply misleading to Disciples and should be severely punished.” Qin Heng flicked his sleeve and snorted coldly, his Qing Feng sword clanging in its sheath.

“Who can solve this riddle?” Mu Zhengting smiled bitterly and put away his sword art. This Sword Venerable, who had presided over the Hall of Punishment for over a hundred years, was helpless before a Mystic Realm for the first time.

On the cold jade plaque, cinnabar flowed, strikingly revealing the first line: Nine sounds of phoenix, nine sounds of phoenix, ninety-nine eighty-one sounds, each sound of phoenixes harmonizing.

While everyone was still hesitating, a clear sword chime came from the sky.

Qin Yue arrived, soaring through the air on the setting sun, her plain white sword robe still stained with demonic blood: “Qing Feng once told me when he taught me.”

With a wave of her jade finger in the air, sword qi formed, and golden characters vividly appeared: Half moon, half star, half and half combine to full, full moon and sun shine together.

“Excellent!” Mo Cheng slapped the table in admiration. This Peak Lord, who was obsessed with swords, actually plucked several silver whiskers. “The tones match, and the artistic conception is connected. Quickly invite Qing Feng.”

Before his words finished, Mu Zhengting cut him off: “Quickly send for Qing Feng, wait!” The Sword Venerable suddenly realized something and abruptly turned to Dao Lord Zisu.

“He went missing on Xiao Yao Peak three days ago.” Zisu gently stroked the jade pixiu in her arms, her amber eyes reflecting the twilight, “Perhaps he found another spiritual pulse to slumber in.”

The teacup in Qin Heng’s hand trembled slightly, and scalding spiritual tea splashed onto his clothes. He had clearly seen that lazy fellow stealing wine in the dining hall this very morning.

“Find him even if you have to dig a hundred zhang deep!” Mu Zhengting pointed his sword at the sky, and seven of his natal spirit swords broke through the clouds. The sword formations of each peak responded, and thousands of sword lights fell like a rain of stars.

“Why go to such trouble?” Wei Yun Zhenjun brushed off the fallen petals from his black crane cloak. “The storyteller at the tea house down the mountain…”

“Nonsense!” The Ancestor of Tai'a Peak’s hair and beard bristled, and he wrote the second line directly with a sword qi-condensed brush.

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