Martial Cultivator-Novel

The life force of youth was always the most vigorous, especially in the case of a youth like Chen Chao. In the years gone by, he had been like a stubborn weed, growing amidst freezing winds and scorching sun. Regardless of how many storms he had weathered, he remained as tenacious as ever.

On the other hand, throughout the life of the middle-aged daoist, ever since he stepped into the Infatuation Daoist Temple many years ago, he had been cultivating without experiencing any storms. Any major issues in his cultivation were naturally solved with the help of his seniors. He had not encountered any problems along the way, transitioning from a young genius to a young powerhouse, then to a powerhouse, then becoming a Nepenthe cultivator, and finally becoming the Chief Enforcer of this Infatuation Daoist Temple. He had traversed this path smoothly, resembling a tranquil lake without ripples, a life without ups and downs, much like his own existence without vitality.

The two were indeed stark contrasts.

If one were to really speak about it, the two were even standing at the two ends of the timeline. One was the rising sun, while the other was the nearly setting sun.

The middle-aged daoist's eyes concealed the countless accumulations brought to him by endless years. When facing Chen Chao, the middle-aged daoist was like a great mountain, standing quietly in front of him, impervious to wind and rain.

Chen Chao's eyes were filled with immense pain, not the piercing kind, but a special kind of feeling, as if someone was punching his eye sockets one by one.

His body had long been toughened through numerous tempering. Even among the martial artists in the Bitter Sea Realm, he was exceptional. However, at this moment, his body which had been tempered endlessly seemed to have no effect. It could not withstand the gaze of the person standing opposite him at all.

It was as if it was not a substantial attack, but an attack launched at the depths of his soul.

Just as Chen Chao had thought before, although the middle-aged daoist in front of him had lost his cultivation, such an old monster must have his own means. Those means were not something a young cultivator like Chen Chao in the Bitter Sea Realm could do anything about.

It was the disparity formed by endless years, a gap that could not be easily bridged.

However, Chen Chao was unwilling to give up. Even if he were like a small boat in a stormy sea, so what?

No matter how terrifying the storm and the waves, they would eventually dissipate. Whether a rainbow could be seen after they dissipated was uncertain, but if one could not hold on, they would certainly never see it.

It was unclear how long had passed, but Chen Chao's forehead was already covered in sweat, and his entire body had been trembling for an unknown duration. His complexion was as pale as paper, and his eyes were filled with exhaustion. At this moment, he appeared like a ferocious ghost from hell. However, the storm gradually subsided, and the waves calmed down. The surface of the sea turned blue and it was tranquil and peaceful between heaven and earth.

A hint of weariness also flashed across the middle-aged daoist's eyes. Despite his profound cultivation, even though he could still cast some special magic spells in this place, he might not necessarily be able to keep on casting them.

Even so, if it were an ordinary cultivator, they would have definitely lost their composure and perished under his first gaze, their divine soul shattering and perishing on the spot here.

But, not Chen Chao.

A strange look flashed across the middle-aged daoist's eyes. He moved his lips, wanting to say something to express his admiration. But he quickly remembered Chen Chao's disrespect towards him earlier. Hence, the words of admiration shattered at the tip of his tongue, transforming into an outpouring of killing intent that covered the entire space where the Dao Enlightenment Platform was located. A tinge of peculiarity flashed across the eyes of the black ox as well. It had previously harbored rebellious thoughts, but they dissipated because of the nose ring in its nose. At that time, it merely felt that it had fallen into the hands of this great daoist sage. But now, sensing the pervasive killing intent, it was somewhat afraid too.

It was a fear originating from the soul.

The disparity and suppression of cultivation realm.

However, as the middle-aged daoist released this pervasive killing intent, Chen Chao had already made a move.

Previously, amidst the tumultuous waves, he was like a small, lone boat, easily capsizable. He could only allow the wind and rain to fall upon him.

But at this moment, since the wind and rain had subsided, he made a move.

The overwhelming killing intent transformed into a storm once again, but it encountered his saber.

The saber was broken, but it was extremely sharp.

The person was young and brimming with vitality!

With a tearing sound, as if there was something being ripped apart between heaven and earth, Chen Chao, whose body was not particularly robust but certainly not frail, squeezed out from within.

He plunged into the pervasive killing intent.

Followed by several faint and distinct noises.

Suddenly, Chen Chao's black robe shattered, multiple holes appearing all over the garment, as if it had been sliced open by the sharpest blade in the world.

The killing intent fell as if it were substantial. If this were outside, Chen Chao would have probably been sliced into countless fragments by now.

In reality, even if it was a peak Great Beyond powerhouse, when facing this great daoist sage, they would also meet their demise when the killing intent that filled the sky fell down.

A peak Great Beyond cultivator would be completely helpless against an existence who had already reached the end of the Nepenthe Realm.

But this was not outside, so when the overwhelming killing intent fell, it merely tore apart Chen Chao's robe and left countless wounds on his body.

His sturdy physique appeared as fragile as paper beneath the onslaught of the killing intent.

However, the middle-aged daoist had already furrowed his brow.

He was more aware than anyone else of the sheer terror his lingering killing intent held, even if this did not utilize his cultivation. This was not something a cultivator like Chen Chao should be able to withstand.

But, in this moment, the killing intent merely made contact with the surface of his skin, tearing the outermost layer of skin and flesh, and not penetrating deeper.

He was momentarily distracted but quickly returned to his senses in a brief moment. Having experienced so many trials and tribulations, he was not one to lose composure over something minor.

However, upon regaining his focus, he found a shadow looming before him.

It was a dark silhouette.

The fluttering robe resembled the night, as if it were to blot out his sky.

Then a bright saber light appeared before his eyes.

Chen Chao had arrived.

That young middle-aged finally overcame the killing intent and arrived before the middle-aged daoist.

He swung down heavily with his saber!

The strike was as powerful as lightning, filled with an imposing aura.

Even if the middle-aged daoist was a peerless powerhouse of the Nepenthe Realm, his physical body might not be considered tough if he did not deliberately temper it. Thus, Chen Chao believed that the man would definitely evade his attack.

He had prepared numerous follow-up moves, planning how to deliver the next strike when the other party dodged.

But the middle-aged daoist did not dodge. He stood his ground, extending his hand to meet the blade with his palm.

The hand appeared ordinary, pristine white with slender fingers, not resembling the hand of a middle-aged man but more akin to that of a woman, at least from the fingers' appearance.

The middle-aged daoist was not a woman.

He was an old daoist.

As the sharp blade descended and landed on his palm, contrary to what Chen Chao had expected, it did not cleave through his palm. It merely glided past, leaving no traces of any abnormality. The broken saber slid over the outstretched palm as if nothing had happened.

The middle-aged daoist looked at him and said indifferently, "Great Beyond and Nepenthe, one will naturally be tempered by heaven and earth, harmonizing one's body with heaven and earth, transcending the realm of a mortal body. How can I be easily killed?"

As he spoke, he took a step forward and reached out to deliver a slap at Chen Chao's head.

His movement seemed nonchalant, resembling a master who was dissatisfied with his student, casually disciplining him with a slap.

But Chen Chao felt an extreme sense of terror. Being unable to use his cultivation was not only targeted at him, the middle-aged daoist in front of him was restrained too.

But despite both of them being in this state, why did it seem like there was a great sense of terror emanating from his every move and action?

Was this the frightening aspect of a Nepenthe Realm cultivator? Even under the state of having no cultivation, it was the same?

Chen Chao could not afford to dwell on these thoughts. Faced with the palm that was as vast as heaven and earth, he did not retreat backward but instead rammed forward.

His forte lay in making the right decision at the moment of life and death. He knew that if he retreated now, he would at least suffer severe injuries. Only running forward would break the deadlock.

But this time, he miscalculated.

He charged towards that daoist robe, but it felt like he struck nothing substantial, passing through emptiness as he rushed forward.

The middle-aged daoist sidestepped. Then, the palm still descended.

A sudden gale swept across the world.

If that palm were to land, who knew what the outcome would be?

How powerful was the palm strike of a Nepenthe cultivator who had lost his cultivation?

Chen Chao did not want to know the answer.

He just gripped the saber hilt with both hands and raised it up.

But the broken saber could not be lifted, it just remained suspended in mid-air. The palm struck the blade, and an immense force traveled through it, causing Chen Chao's arm to tremble.

The middle-aged daoist's daoist robe fluttered non-stop in the fierce wind.