I Pick up a Lost Godhood

Outside the radiant Dueling Platform stood a crowd of Star Alliance members. Among them were Demon Ba of the No Illusion Demon Sect, Yuu Kunlun and Mo Chen of the Taiyin Sect, Lu Chenfeng of the Cyan Cloud Sect, and Bai Yu of the Flower Fairy Sword. Zhao Xinglun was also present. He normally wouldn’t have been qualified, but as the Holy Hall’s sole representative at the Great Perfection stage, he had been granted the privilege of watching from the Pure Land.

"Since everyone has arrived, the Battle of the Other Shore officially begins."

Vast Sea gestured with his hand, and instantly, the starlight seemed to pour down. Countless lines of light flashed between the thirty contestants, shifting constantly before finally locking into place.

Bu Qingyun vs. Fan Hong. Wu Wang vs. Zhang Xiaojiang.

Suo Ming vs. Dangtian. Longyue vs. Huan Yu.

Purple Dragon vs. Lei Zuo. Celestial Dragon vs. Ling Fei.

Zhou Qian vs. Cui Zhi. Mengg Lord vs. Heu Yuanzhou.

Lin Jinghao vs. Jil Zhen. Jii Wanli vs. Lightning.

Mingren vs. Ji Rushan. Li Xishui vs. Desire Spirit.

Wang Meng vs. Elder Chengyue. Linglong vs. Xie Tianhua.

Hu Jing vs. Song Ma. Zou Chuang vs. Song Yifan.

In the five great cities, Human Cultivators gathered in droves. On the Other Shore, in addition to the Star Alliance members, representatives from the various clans of the Demon Race and even the Dragon Race had arrived. The Star Alliance was a union of all three, and they were all keen to observe the caliber of humanity’s chosen representatives.

The first battle: Bu Qingyun vs. Fan Hong.

This was a battle between two Saint Cultivators: Bu Qingyun from the Cyan Cloud Sect, representing the Classical Saint Cultivators, versus Fan Hong from the Dharma Flower Sect, a newly risen Saint Cultivation Sect from the Tide Small Thousand Realm.

The Dharma Flower Sect was ranked quite low among the participants of the Battle of the Other Shore. In the past, they had only the Holy Hall for company at the bottom, but the Holy Hall was now undoubtedly a focus of attention. With most of the other contestants hailing from the Ten Great Sects, Fan Hong had truly brought great honor to the Dharma Flower Sect.

It was a pity Chan Jing wasn’t here. If she saw this, who knows what she would think. The man she once treated as a mere sucker was now standing on the most prestigious battlefield in the world of Human Cultivators, facing the Sect Leader’s Disciple of the Cyan Cloud Sect.

The two of them were the combatants, but the other twenty-eight contestants were watching from the sidelines. Every one of them was, without a doubt, a master who stood at the apex of the world, the focus of countless eyes.

Bu Qingyun had never imagined that this upstart named Fan Hong would one day be qualified to challenge him. But fate was a funny thing. Then again, perhaps his Sect Leader’s judgment had been spot on; Fan Ru truly did have a few tricks up his sleeve.

Lu Chenfeng and Fan Ru were both present. The two men, old friends of a sort, exchanged a smile. Both sides were confident in their respective disciples.

The Cyan Cloud Sect had a great many supporters. This was not only because Bu Qingyun was a Saint Cultivator, but also because he adhered to the traditional principles of the Classical Saint Cultivators, which had won him the support of numerous other Cultivators.

Bu Qingyun’s performance in the preliminary rounds had been solid but unremarkable, certainly not as eye-catching as some of the others. Fan Hong, in contrast, had been in the spotlight; his Netherworld Dark Emperor Body was quite spectacular to behold.

Facing Bu Qingyun, Fan Hong felt he had no psychological advantage whatsoever. Though he had cut a swath through his opponents in the earlier rounds, this was the first time he was facing someone he had once considered untouchable, a rival he could only admire from afar.

Fan Hong drew his sword. The battle began!

The pressure at that moment came not only from his opponent but from all around him. His peers, the leading figures of the various sects, and even the four great masters of the Cultivation Realm were all watching. If he brought shame upon himself, he would bring shame upon his entire Sect.

No one could afford to lose.

Fan Hong made the first move. In terms of sheer presence and aura, however, Bu Qingyun completely dominated the field. Classical Sword Cultivators placed the utmost importance on mental and spiritual discipline, meaning no opponent, regardless of their strength, could easily overwhelm them. The path of a Classical Saint Cultivator was an arduous one, which was why so many modern Saint Cultivators had chosen different paths. Still, one had to admit, the bearing of such a Sword Cultivator was truly far more impressive.

Fan Hong’s style had changed due to the influence of his Holy Statue. His Sword Qi was now erratic yet incisive, and exceedingly dangerous.

Fan Hong had clearly not been idle these past three years, and he had undergone a metamorphosis during the first half of the Battle of the Other Shore. The moment he unleashed his Sword Qi, his entire demeanor shifted. The energy enveloped Bu Qingyun, each press of the attack suffused with killing intent.

Bu Qingyun didn’t draw his sword. He simply stood tall, weaving through the streams of Sword Qi. To be frank, some onlookers were displeased that Bu Qingyun, who didn’t even possess a Holy Statue, would act so arrogantly. But at this level of combat, what appeared to be arrogance was never just that.

It stemmed from true confidence.

Fan Hong’s Sword Technique had clearly improved by leaps and bounds, especially since he began emulating the style of his Holy Statue. It had allowed him to sweep aside all his previous opponents. His biting, unpredictable Sword Qi was formidable, yet it couldn’t seem to touch Bu Qingyun, let alone disrupt his rhythm.

An initial barrage of Sword Qi might not secure victory, but the attacker should at least be able to control the tempo of the fight. Yet even under this relentless assault, Bu Qingyun stood firm and unyielding, like an ancient pine tree in a storm.

Lu Chenfeng was very confident, a confidence born not from the Cyan Cloud Sect’s reputation, but from his deep understanding of Bu Qingyun himself.

Lin Jinghao, Jii Wanli, Zou Chuang, Longyue, and the other top representatives from the Ten Great Sects knew Bu Qingyun well. They were all prodigious talents of roughly the same age, and all of them possessed Holy Statues. Yet, whenever they sized up the competition, they would never dare to overlook Bu Qingyun.

The path of a Classical Sword Cultivator was all or nothing; if they failed, they were nothing, but if they succeeded, they were a force to be reckoned with.

The longer Fan Hong fought, the more unnerved he became. He was very confident in his Sword Technique, yet it felt as if Bu Qingyun had seen through his every move. Bu Qingyun’s presence was like a towering mountain, a silent declaration that they were not in the same league.

’I have to banish these cowardly thoughts,’ Fan Hong told himself. ’If I admit defeat in my heart, this fight is already over.’

His Elemental Power surged and his Sword Qi roared. Fan Hong was about to unleash a killing blow. He refused to believe Bu Qingyun could continue to do nothing!

The blade of his sword was suddenly enveloped in a dark red glow, a power he had comprehended from the Netherworld Dark Emperor Holy Statue.

Netherworld Sword!

SHIING...

Man and sword vanished. Suddenly, rays of sword light erupted from the void, enveloping Bu Qingyun without warning. The signature trait of the Netherworld Dark Emperor Body was its unpredictability; it was impossible to anticipate!

But Bu Qingyun vanished as well, reappearing a full ten feet outside the attack’s range, quietly watching Fan Hong.

"Your approach is wrong," Bu Qingyun said, his voice calm. "The Netherworld Dark Emperor Body is insufficient without true killing intent. Besides, there are many ways to predict an attack."

Bu Qingyun shook his head. The Netherworld Dark Emperor Body relied on a slaughter-lust rooted in the Demon Attribute. Fan Hong, however, was a Saint Cultivator. This wasn’t to say a Saint Cultivator couldn’t wield killing intent, but it had to be of a higher, more formidable realm—one that transcended its demonic origins. That was a state few could ever hope to achieve.

Fan Hong felt completely exposed. He had used this move before and had always believed that the signature unpredictability of his Netherworld Dark Emperor Body would make it impossible to evade so easily. But now he understood; the Battle of the Other Shore was truly in a class of its own.

BOOM...

The Netherworld Dark Emperor Holy Statue manifested. It was the first Holy Statue to appear in the final rounds of the Battle of the Other Shore.

The Holy Statue wore the Netherworld Dark Emperor’s signature smile—one that mocked the world, its wryness tinged with a trace of sorrow.

Fan Hong’s figure vanished. SHIING...

Sword Qi crisscrossed through the air. Bu Qingyun faltered for an instant and retreated in a blur, but two slashes still struck him across the chest.

Fan Hong reappeared a short distance away. "Brother Bu, it’s time to show your true strength. Surely you don’t want the fight to end like this."

Bu Qingyun glanced at the gashes on his chest. "Heh, it seems I underestimated your Netherworld Dark Emperor Body. Very well. Let’s see how many of my strikes you can withstand."

CHING... A clear, crisp ring of a sword being drawn.

Bu Qingyun’s Cyan Cloud Sword was unsheathed. To a Classical Sword Cultivator, the importance of their blade was self-evident. For them, cultivating the sword was a form of cultivating the Dao itself; they sought enlightenment through their blade.

In an age where Holy Statues and Life Artifacts reigned supreme, what future was there for pure Sword Technique?

Fan Hong’s figure vanished, leaving only the lingering smile of the Netherworld Dark Emperor in his wake.

A sword thrust suddenly erupted from the void. Bu Qingyun’s Cyan Cloud Sword instantly moved to intercept. Sword Screen!

BOOM...

Bu Qingyun remained rooted to the spot, but Fan Hong’s figure was thrown back five or six steps, leaving a trail of afterimages before vanishing once more.

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