Living In Another World With A Farm Chapter 8393: The war (1)

A resonant "Weng ~!" boomed forth as a massive bell tolled. Slowly, the entrance to Senluo Palace swung wide. An enormous ghostly face adorned the doors, cleaved neatly in half at the center. One side displayed a cheerful grin, the other a wrathful glare, amplifying the eerie dread of the image. All recognized this spectral emblem, which embodied the duality of human benevolence and malice, while signifying rewards for virtue and penalties for wrongdoing.

With the gates parting, a band of cultivators soared outward. Leading them was an elder clad in dark robes, radiating immense might. Devil Qi instantly coiled around him upon emergence, and the surging demonic pressure awed every cultivator present.

"Amitabha!" A solemn Buddhist incantation resounded from Blood Buddha Temple. Moments later, Blood Buddha Ha Jing materialized high above the temple, hands clasped in prayer as he regarded the black-robed elder. "Daoist Jie Tian, it's been ages. How have you fared?" Though offering a greeting, fear flickered in Ha Jing's gaze toward the elder.

Ha Jing was well acquainted with the elder. Known as Jie Tian, or the Sky-Splitting Saber, he stood as the mightiest in the Corpse Demon Sect, heir to the Corpse-Splitting Saber legacy. His blade arts were devastatingly potent. Ha Jing had clashed with him once, ending in a draw. Over the years, Jie Tian's saber skills had advanced further. Though Ha Jing's Nine-Word Mantra Palm had also progressed, he lacked assurance of victory. Confronting such a formidable foe, he remained ever cautious.

Jie Tian regarded Ha Jing with composure and replied, "Indeed. Over a century has passed since we last met. Ha Jing, you remain as refined as always. Word has it you've secured an heir for your Great Incantation Handprint—truly a cause for celebration." While speaking, he cast a glance at Zhao Hai, envy subtly gleaming in his eyes.

At their pinnacle of power, beyond mere Ascension, what mattered most was passing on their unique lineages. Though both Jie Tian's Corpse Cleaver and Ha Jing's Great Hand Seal of Truth stemmed from ancient teachings, at this stage, they had infused personal insights into these arts. Naturally, they yearned for their traditions to endure. Jie Tian had numerous followers, yet none had grasped the true core of his Corpse Cleaver—not even among the rising generation—which filled him with regret.

Jie Tian had caught wind that Zhao Hai, the recent standout from the Blood Slaughter Sect, had taken up Ha Jing's mantle and mastered the Mantra Palm. Zhao Hai proved the ideal successor to this technique. Thus, Jie Tian felt deep jealousy toward him, evident in that envious look.

Ha Jing chuckled and responded, "I'm certain Fellow Daoist Jie Tian will soon discover a fitting apprentice. No need to rush. The hour has arrived—shall we commence?" Ha Jing preferred not to linger; with time elapsed, they could dive straight into the fray.

Jie Tian grinned and said, "After all these years, your temperament endures unchanged. Very well, the moment is here. Let the battles begin. Each side determines their challengers' sequence without our meddling. Fellow Daoist Ha Jing, I've acquired some fresh spiritual tea—care to sample it with me?"

Ha Jing eyed Jie Tian and burst into laughter. "It wouldn't do for us to meddle overly in the juniors' contests. I've come by some spirit wine and delicacies myself; join me for a tasting." With that, the pair vanished in a blur. Once they departed, the Island Master-tier powerhouses from both factions stayed absent, clearly entrusting the choices to their core disciples.

Zhao Hai naturally commanded the Blood Slaughter Sect's side, per Ha Jing's directive. Others might surpass him in pure cultivation rank, but none claimed superior battle prowess. This elevated Zhao Hai as the unchallenged head among the core disciples.

As Ha Jing departed, Zhao Hai grasped his role. He surveyed the assembly and chuckled suddenly. "As the Blood Hangman and arena overseer, I won't allow any mockery of our sect. Which senior brother will step up first?" His words carried modestly, yet rang clear to all on both sides and the spectators. That hearty laugh especially ignited fervor, surging warmth through the Blood Slaughter Sect disciples. A chorus erupted: "I'll do it!" Hundreds voiced it together, unleashing a sky-high wave of slaughter intent.

The encircling observers froze amid this killing aura. Weaker cultivators paled involuntarily. Unversed in direct clashes with the Blood Slaughter Sect, they'd only heard tales of their ferocity and thirst for blood. Now, the raw intensity hit them firsthand.

Zhao Hai scanned the Blood Slaughter Sect cultivators and laughed. "Easy, everyone. We'll all get our turns. Senior Brother Fu Ling, I call on you for the opening bout." He addressed a towering figure amid the group.

This cultivator, Fu Ling, ranked among the Blood Slaughter Sect's legacy inheritors. Towering and robust, he loomed like a crane among fowl. He had been the first to volunteer. At Zhao Hai's summons, he grinned broadly. "Excellent. Junior Brother Zhao Hai, sharp choice. Let's witness this clash." He then leaped into the void, summoning a massive blade with a gesture. Blood-red and enormous, it stretched four feet long and almost a foot broad—like a slab of iron in his grip.

Blade at the ready, Fu Ling exuded even greater valor. He bellowed toward the sect cultivators, "Fu Ling challenges—who dares face me?" Murderous intent burst from him with his shout, the combined aura of warrior and weapon piercing the heavens. He evoked a true Demon God, his presence alone daunting many.

Regrettably, his opponents were no mere foes. These were premier disciples from elite sects, all sect darlings brimming with pride. How could Fu Ling's display cow them? Swiftly, one leaped forward with a scoff. "I'll take you on."

Fu Ling eyed the challenger and sneered. "Yin Yang Sect, are you? If so, apologies in advance—you fall by my blade today. But Fu Ling slays no unknowns. State your name, so this grandpa knows if you're worth the effort!"

The Yin Yang Sect cultivator sneered at Fu Ling's taunt. "Fu Ling, your reputation precedes you. They call you the Tyrannical Blood Saber, eh? Hahaha, such bold claims. Tyrannical Blood Saber? Show me how you dominate today. Hear this: I stand by my name unyieldingly. Xiong Baoshan is mine. In the Blood Sea Realm, fellows dub me Mountain River Fist. Am I worthy to cross blades with you?"

At Xiong Baoshan's self-introduction, Fu Ling's face grew solemn. He knew of this Mountain River Fist. Though tied to Yin Yang Sect, Xiong shunned illusions, poisons, or yin-draining arts, pursuing instead the Yin Yang Sutra. His Mountain River Fist enjoyed renown within the sect, marking him as a standout core disciple. Fu Ling hadn't anticipated this refined-looking foe to be the famed Xiong Baoshan.

A name carried weight like a tree's shade. Hearing his rival's identity, Fu Ling shed all disdain. He recognized that fame in Yin Yang Sect demanded real strength; underestimation was folly. Thus, he adopted a grave demeanor, facing Xiong Baoshan. "Xiong Baoshan, the Mountain River Fist—I never guessed it was you. Truth be told, few from Yin Yang Sect earn my respect, but you're among them. You avoid those vile yin-siphoning ways, which I truly admire. It's an honor to clash with you. Still, today I claim victory, revealing the might of this Batian!" He hefted his door-like saber, its tip aimed at Xiong Baoshan. An unstoppable saber intent radiated from him, making him seem to swell in stature, a heavenly Demon God incarnate.

Xiong Baoshan stiffened at Fu Ling's stance, then snorted. "Our Yin Yang Sect's profound Dao isn't for a simple core disciple like you to trifle with. Today, I'll test the depths of your Ba Dao." He balled his fists into a ready pose, an odd one: left forward with palm outward despite the clench, right pulled back by his ear, palm reversed—truly peculiar.

Yet as he assumed it, a formidable aura welled from him. Not overtly aggressive, it felt profoundly weighty, like an immovable peak. His stare locked on Fu Ling, poised for a devastating strike at any instant.

The spectators gasped upon hearing the combatants' names. These weren't obscure figures; they shone brightly in the Blood Sea Realm. Among the younger core disciples of Blood Slaughter Sect and Yin Yang Sect, they ranked as top names. Both had risen to prominence before Zhao Hai, now at the eighth layer of Spell Essence Stage. One more step would propel them to the ninth layer, opening doors to Spell Refinement Stage. Many knew their tales, so this first-round matchup thrilled the crowd. Sending out unknowns might bore them—even top sects boasted more hidden talents than stars. But celebrities like these sparked true excitement.