Ze Tian Ji Chapter 1142 – Wang Po Has Come

Chapter 1142 – Wang Po Has Come
Translated by: Hypersheep325
Edited by: Michyrr
The two Demon Generals on the plains and the even more powerful demon elder and duke all became abnormally grave.
The remnants of the sword intent drifted to the peak of Mount Nuorilang.
The Demon Commander snatched at it with her hand and brought it up to her nose. Upon sniffing it, she began to feel slightly wary.
The Mount Li Sword Sect Master had broken through ten-some years ago, but not much attention had been paid to him. Many people thought that this old Daoist who had never walked past the mountain gate had only relied on the supreme teachings of the Mount Li Sword Sect and several hundred years of bitter cultivation to barely break through into the Divine Domain. It really hadn't been considered much of a feat.
No one had expected his cultivation in the sword to have reached such an astonishing level that he had already walked up to the second threshold.
Mao Qiuyu looked at the Mount Li Sect Master and said, "We've troubled Sir today."
The Mount Li Sect Master glanced at Mount Nuorilang and waved his hand. "I certainly cannot beat this villain."
Without waiting for Mao Qiuyu to speak, he pointed at the two Demon Generals on the plains and said, "These two can't beat me, so let me handle them."
Mao Qiuyu and Huai Ren were slightly stunned, both at how magnanimous these words seemed to be, and also at who would now deal with the Demon Commander.
There was no more time to think. The mists in that path in the darkness were getting thicker and thicker, those several massive figures growing increasingly distinct.
The demon elder and duke of Xuelao City were about to arrive on the battlefield. If no one stopped them, the Central Army Camp would come under their direct assault.
Drifting in the breeze, Huai Ren flew to meet the silk-robed duke. Mao Qiuyu's sleeves fluttered as he went to block the member of the Council of Elders.
The Mount Li Sect Master raised the sword in his right hand, tightened his left hand's grip on the sheath, and stepped on a rainbow as he went to confront the two Demon Generals.
Expert after expert of the Divine Domain stepped onto the battlefield, their powerful Qis constantly clashing, stirring winds and sending dust into the air.
A sword glow cleaved apart everything between the heavens and the earth, after which the light of the sun illuminated the plains.
Demon Breath, as thick as the darkness, gushed out from the valley. Like a true dragon from the abyss, it swallowed up the sword glow.
The heavens and earth were overturned, and the entire world dimmed.
These unfathomably mystical sights alternated between the heavens and earth. Several of the mountains in Mount Nuorilang's vicinity were flattened and golden blood dripped down from the sky, igniting in the wind, exuding heat and holy rays of light. The blood of the demon experts, on the other hand, was like ink, painting the sky even darker.
In this extremely short time, it seemed like day had interchanged with night countless times.
The human armies were barely able to rely on their arrays to endure the ripples produced by the clash between experts of the Divine Domain. Occasionally the military experts and crossbowmen within wanted to help the human Divine Domain experts, but they were unable to break free of the harassment from the wolf cavalry.
The Demon Commander remained uninvolved throughout, her cold and cruel gaze piercing through her helmet as it looked southward. She seemed to be waiting for someone.
A hundred-some li to the west was the most dangerously positioned right camp of the Western Army.
To the surprise of all, the most important individual of the Western Army, the Prince of Xiang, had not remained in the rear and had disregarded the Cong Province Army, choosing to remain encamped here.
The streams of light in front of Mount Nuorilang were clearly visible against the sky. Although they were a hundred-some li away, they seemed to be right in front of his eyes.
The Prince of Xiang took his hands off his portly belly, his eyes squinting in thought as he observed those sword glows and demonic Qis.
If he had left as soon as the battle had begun, he might have been in time to participate in this rare melee of Divine Domain experts.
But he did not do so. In his view, the battle was still far from reaching the most critical point, and the most critical person had still not arrived.
Yes, just like the Demon Commander, he was also waiting for that person to arrive.
……
……
"He's here! He's here!"
Elated cries rose from the rear of the Central Army Camp.
Like sparks landing on oil, these cries quickly spread through the entire camp and on to the entire battlefield.
Both the human soldiers and the wolf cavalry desperately attempting to break in had heard the voice.
He was here.
He had finally come.
The wind howled.
Gravel slapped against the grass.
A person appeared before everyone's eyes. He was dressed in a faded cloth gown, and he had a downtrodden appearance. He appeared like an accountant who owed a great deal of money.
Wang Po had come.
No one knew where he had been a moment before.
No one knew where he had come from.
It was not the Central Army Camp. He did not have a habit of standing by the commander-in-chief.
It was also not amongst the miscellany. He did not have the energy to treat life as a game.
He had walked from the south.
To the south was the world of humans.
As usual, his shoulders were drooped, making it easier for him to grip his blade.
The plains were currently in chaos, and desperate fights in which life and death stared off against each other were taking place everywhere. The shouts of fighting and groans of pain rose and fell while the wind and dust obscured the eyes of many.
In this vast and complicated drawing, Wang Po was just an unremarkable dot that should have passed completely unnoticed.
But when he walked from the south, everyone, even the demon soldiers and experts, saw him.
He was dressed in such an impoverished manner and had such an ordinary demeanor, but even in the most dazzling of worlds, he would still have a most powerful presence.
Yet the Demon Commander closed her eyes.
The temperature on the summit abruptly plunged, blanketing the black rocks in a thin layer of white frost.
Against an opponent like Wang Po, even someone like her had to be cautious, meeting him with all her strength.
Wang Po seemed to walk without haste, but he quickly traversed the human camp and reached the battlefield.
The situation was abnormally complex. The unexpected could come at any time, bringing with it many variables and dangers.
But Wang Po did not hurry his steps or alter his trajectory. He continued to calmly walk forward.
The Demon Commander had closed her eyes to accumulate energy in preparation for their coming clash. It was certain to be a thunderous strike that would shake the heavens.
Wang Po was no stranger to this.
At Tanzhe Temple on the outskirts of the capital, he had sat under that ginkgo tree for ten-some days and nights, his blade never leaving its sheath. He had been comprehending the blade while simultaneously accumulating blade energy.
Only this method had allowed him to slay Tie Shu with a single strike of his blade.
Now, as he walked toward the mountain, he was also accumulating energy.
……
……
The method by which Demon Generals were ranked was similar to that of the Divine Generals of the Great Zhou. While seniority and reputation would be considered, the most important quality was still absolute strength.
Xin Dijia was currently the Third Demon General. He was enormously powerful, and none of the current Divine Generals of the Great Zhou were any match for him. He was also deeply trusted by the young Demon Lord, who had granted him several formidable demon artifacts. He could be considered a true expert of the Divine Domain.
The sword glow had managed to shear off a small part of his horn and leave him many wounds because the Mount Li Sect Master's sword technique truly had been rather profound, but also because he had somewhat underestimated his foe.
And he had not expected this old Daoist's sword to be so horrifyingly sharp.
His injuries just now had sobered him and made him much more cautious. Together with the Eighth Demon General and several experts of the Demon Army, he calmly engaged in battle with the Mount Li Sect Master.
He saw Wang Po walking through the battlefield, but he could not escape the reach of the Mount Li Sect Master's sword intent. He whistled, ordering the wolf cavalry to charge at Wang Po. At the same time, he used his gaze to request the Eighth Demon General to work with him and bring their battle to the center of the battlefield.
No matter how terrifying the wolf cavalry were, they couldn't possibly injure Wang Po. The Third Demon General understood, and he only hoped that they could stop Wang Po from gathering energy.
In a battle on the level of Wang Po versus the Demon Commander, even the smallest effects could directly decide the outcome.
The Mount Li Sect Master guessed at what this Demon General was up to. His long brows rose as he lightly flicked his fingers.
At this moment, the Heaven Shrouding Sword was shattering its third demon artifact and drenching the Eighth Demon General in blood. Suddenly, it was struck by the gust of wind created by that finger flick, causing it to crisply hum.
This sword music was extremely clear and cold, and it could be heard across the entire plain.
Several seemingly ordinary soldiers crossed the chaotic battlefield to Wang Po's side.
The wolf cavalry began to charge.
The eyes of the giant wolves were thoroughly dyed in madness while the demon soldiers on their backs let out grating howls.
Several awe-inspiring sword intents shot into the sky and slashed at the wolf cavalry.
Those ordinary soldiers were actually all elders of Mount Li's Sword Hall!
Cold swords flashed and wolf cavalry crashed to the ground, splashing blood and filth.
These several elders of the Sword Hall walked with Wang Po like bodyguards.
No matter which direction the wolf cavalry charged from, they would all be slain.
These elders wanted to ensure that Wang Po would not be disturbed.
They did not care that this might affect their own ability to attack, might even cause them to be injured.
They could not allow anyone to force Wang Po to act before his battle with the Demon Commander began.
To many people, this was a strategy carried out for the sake of the overarching situation.
But Wang Po had never been a person who could accept the good intentions of others with peace of mind.
If he were, how could his blade be as powerful as it was today?
To the west of him, on the plains, Daoist nun Huai Ren was battling with that member of the Demon Council of Elders.
Exquisite and somber streams of energy were shooting out from her fingers like arrows, flying through the sky, shattering several dozen Essence Qi Locks and leaving deep, bloody holes in the demon elder's body.
The Divine Finger of the Worldstream was truly nothing to be laughed off, especially when it was being used by an expert of the Divine Domain.
The demon elder hissed. Stretching out his hands, he snatched the scepters from the hands of two tribal elders and absorbed the souls attached to them, causing his injuries to instantly recover.
Moreover, his body began to swell until he was ten-some zhang high. Draped in the darkness, he seemed liked both demon and god.
It was at this moment that the clear clang of metal came from the distance.
This was the grinding of metal, the blade leaving its sheath!
The demon elder's expression instantly changed. He knew that there was no time to escape, so he screamed in despair and toppled toward Huai Ren like a mountain!
A blade intent that seemed to come from beyond the heavens tore a hole through the darkness.
With several crisp cracks, the demon elder's shoulders gained several wounds.
A sunlight-drenched horsetail whisk, its silky threads bunching into clouds, crashed against the demon elder's chest.
The demon elder instantly shattered into black powder. His remains sprinkled over the grass in a radius of several li, withering anything they touched!
Huai Ren's face was pale, blood trickling out of the corner of her lips.
She turned to the center of the battlefield.
Wang Po was still walking to the mountain as if he had done nothing at all.
Many gazes dropped to his waist.
His hand was already gripping his sheath.
His thumb was pressed against the bottom of the hilt.
A part of the blade had already been revealed.