Chapter 608: Chapter 282: The Sixteen Powers of Jing Country_2
“You tell to stay calm, yet you’re the least calm of all!”
Yun Ziliang noticed the smile in Peng Sheng’s eyes and felt a burst of pride surging within him. He wished he could tell everyone… the “Mountain-and-River Map,” I helped guide its discovery.
“The gods in the Mountain-and-River Map can easily pass through the Ming King’s Invisible Buddha Bell,” the stone Buddha said in astonishnt.
“I am not fighting alone.”
Zhou Xuan asked again, “Where is the Witch Queen?”
The Queen, connected to the gods behind the Witch, erged dressed in a black witch robe, her face devoid of features. Her descent instantly brought an added air of Witchcraft’s mystery to Peng Town.
“Where is the Heavenly Official…”
“Where is the Eternal Life Sect Leader…”
“Where is the Dragon Seeking Mountain Ancestor…”
“Where is the Tattooed Peng Hou…”
“Where are the sixteen battle stances of Wuwen Mountain…”
As Zhou Xuan called them out one by one,
one divine being after another descended. The humble Peng Town, due to their presence, glowed with extraordinary brilliance.
The descent of the gods stopped at sixteen. Zhou Xuan needed only sixteen god-level beings.
These divine figures were manifestations of the amplified divine aura from the Mountain-and-River Map. They were mindless, mute beings,
but just standing scattered amidst the battlefield, they already struck fear into the three-headed stone Buddha.
He had been confident that with eight blades, he could twist Zhou Xuan to death within his sword montum. But now, the descent of sixteen gods shattered his confidence completely.
Zhou Xuan continued pacing forward. Every step closer to the stone Buddha, even by just a single foot, felt like a heavy stomp on his heart.
“Three feet of sharp edge in hand, questioning any who dares approach… those sixteen battle stances of Wuwen Mountain in your grasp cannot unleash their montum.”
“Without perception or divine aura, don’t even think about truly fueling those sixteen blades.”
“I’m a benevolent man; today I shall teach you how to wield a blade.”
Zhou Xuan waved his hand and pointed at the storyteller Bi Fang.
Answering the summon, Bi Fang sprang into the air with Heaven and Earth Extre Speed, crashing into Zhou Xuan’s body.
A trace of divine aura rged into Zhou Xuan’s being.
He fused the divine aura with perception and unleashed it outward, beckoning to a Thunder Blade suspended in mid-air with a single crook of his finger.
The blade traced an arc of light before landing in Zhou Xuan’s grasp.
Zhou Xuan gently brushed the blade’s edge, adorned with snowflake cloud patterns.
“The sixteen stances of Wuwen Mountain are not only nas of divine beings but also nas of the sixteen blades.”
“Since they are stances, they embody Jing Country’s sixteen elental forces.”
“This blade is called ‘Snowfall,’ the stance of snow descending upon sealed mountains.”
At this point, Zhou Xuan pointed the blade toward the “Heavenly Official.”
Just like Bi Fang, the Heavenly Official charged into Zhou Xuan.
With the second trace of divine aura, Zhou Xuan could link to another suspended edge.
This ti, Zhou Xuan sensed the blade held by the stone Buddha.
He lightly gestured,
and the blade in the stone Buddha’s grip began pulling away. Despite his brute strength, the stone Buddha refused to relinquish the blade to Zhou Xuan.
Yet, the Thunder Blade, born of lightning, was inherently ethereal and elusive; brute force alone could never secure it.
The blade, tightly grasped by the stone Buddha, dissolved into rolling thunder, vanishing from his hands. It reford into blade shape as it reached Zhou Xuan.
“This blade is called ‘Cloud Surge,’ the stance of rolling white clouds.”
After brushing the blade’s surface, Zhou Xuan interlocked his hands, rging “Cloud Surge” with “Snowfall.”
Using the sa thod, Zhou Xuan continued to summon more divine beings into his body and summon even more Thunder Blades.
“This blade is called ‘Curved Water,’ representing Jing Country’s andering streams — not overbearing in force, but ceaseless and persistent, capable of wearing down stone.”
“This blade is called ‘Rushing River,’ drawn from the surging torrents of Jing Country’s grand rivers.”
“This blade is called ‘Thunder Roll,’ embodying the thundering roar of lightning, a heavenly manifestation.”
“This blade…”
One blade after another found its way into Zhou Xuan’s hands, continuously rging together. As the Thunder Blades beca increasingly tangible, the aura emanating from them shocked Zhou Lingyi.
“Brother, where did you gain insight into the sixteen stances? Wuwen Mountain’s Tangkou has long since fallen.”
“Ah yes, Kongming Mirror.”
Zhou Lingyi’s agile mind quickly pieced the puzzle together.
“Brother’s Kongming Mirror seems far from ordinary as well.”
Zhou Lingyi recalled Zhou Xuan’s performance during the Condensing Mirror process… others sought enlightennt from the mirror; he, on the other hand, beca the creator of the Mirror World.
He breathed light into the mirror; and amidst the chaos within, the stars began to ignite.
“Is this how the sixteen stances are actually used?”
Yun Ziliang was dumbfounded.
He had always assud the sixteen stances to be a re set of sword techniques, wielded through perception to control the blades into a unified formation.
Who would have thought… it could evolve into sixteen-in-one.
“It appears the sixteen stances originally constitute a single blade.” Li Chengfeng resolved to write down what he witnessed of Wuwen Mountain’s sword technique, record it in his notebook, and include it in the Bone Elder Association library.
“If a disciple of Wuwen Mountain were to see Brother Xuan today, they’d likely recognize him as the Sword Ancestor.”
Peng Sheng remarked calmly, “Chances are, no one in Wuwen Mountain today has seen the true sixteen stances.”
“This blade is called ‘Unmatched,’ devoid of the epheral transformations of drifting clouds or the heavy montum of rushing rivers. It embodies the conviction of all Jing Country’s brave and valiant souls.”
Zhou Xuan fused the sixteenth Thunder Blade, “Unmatched,” completing the sixteen stances blade.
Once perfected, the sixteen stances blade absorbed all its force, sharpness, and radiance, concealing them entirely.
No longer did it resemble a fad razor-sharp sword—instead, it appeared as an utterly ordinary rusted blade. Judging by its unremarkable exterior, even a woodcutter seeking a tool would likely dismiss it as worthless,
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