From a loser to an immortal sage

Chapter 507 Another Showdown

The protective array around the arena was still buzzing. I stared at the surging sword energy beneath Lingyun Immortal Venerable's moon-white Daoist robe, and a thin layer of sweat appeared on the back of my neck.

The jade pendant on his hair ornament grazed the edge of the protective array, sparking a few icy blue sparks—this was the Cold Abyss Sword's way of showing its power; the lightning bolt that had deviated from its path in Lei Ze years ago had ultimately left a thorn in his heart.

"Xuanfeng, activate the formation." His voice, like iron tempered by frost, swept over the silent spectators.

I heard Fairy Mingyue gasp behind me; her hand was still trembling as she picked up the handkerchief. Immortal Venerable Xuanfeng's whisk fell, and the golden tassels wrapped around the jade pendant at his waist—a small gesture he only made when he was nervous. Elder Wu stuffed his broken brush into his sleeve, and the newly acquired wolf-hair brush tapped out a rhythmic "tap-tap" on the table, clearly trying to appear calm.

Xuanfeng Immortal Venerable cleared his throat, his voice three degrees deeper than usual: "In this duel, life and death are irrelevant—" His gaze swept over me, then quickly shifted away, "...but ask yourself what is right in your heart."

The protective formation unfolded with a "boom," and chilling sword energy, carrying snow particles, hurtled towards them.

I instinctively ducked and rolled over, the blade of the Cold Abyss Sword grazing my hair and carving a white mark on the protective array.

This is no ordinary sword move; it is the "Three-Layered Waves of the Frosty Abyss," the technique most mastered by Immortal Venerable Lingyun—the first sword probes for an opening, the second blocks the retreat, and the third...

"Ah Yao, his speed is fake; extreme speed will inevitably lead to stagnation." Wen Chen's voice suddenly exploded in her mind.

I touched the heart-protecting jade, which was incredibly hot at that moment, as if it wanted to imprint the words he had whispered in my ear last night into my very bones.

By the way, last night he held my hand and drew the trajectory of the Cold Abyss Sword on the sand table, saying that this sword move seemed flawless, but in fact, the spiritual energy had to be changed three times between each wave.

The second sword came faster than I expected.

I raised my wrist to form a hand seal, and the wood spirit root, guided by the heart-protecting jade, surged up to my fingertips. The vines, wrapped in a green mist, met the sword light head-on. With a "sizzle," the vines were shredded into fragments by the sword energy, but it also deflected the cold light by half an inch—grabbing my left shoulder and leaving a bloody mark on my Taoist robe.

"A piece of trash is a piece of trash." Lingyun Immortal Venerable's cold laugh, mixed with sword energy, pierced his ears.

He touched the ground with his toes, and his whole body transformed into a white light. The sword's cry of the Cold Abyss Sword gained a sharp tremor—the third wave was coming.

I stared at the fluttering hem of his Taoist robe, where the snow plum blossom pattern embroidered with it twisted with his movements, revealing the jade pendant with the character "Ling" engraved on it at his waist.

Last night, Wen Chen said that when the third wave rises, the jade pendant at his waist will become hot due to the vibration of spiritual energy, which is his only weakness.

Sure enough, the jade pendant turned a dark red.

I bit my tongue to force myself to calm down. My wood spirit root surged in my dantian. This time, instead of rushing to defend, I took half a step forward to meet the sword energy.

A collective gasp rippled through the audience. Fairy Mingyue's handkerchief had fallen again, and this time she simply grabbed the hem of her skirt and knelt down at the edge of the stage.

The moment the edge of the Cold Abyss Sword pressed against my throat, the wood spirit at my fingertips suddenly reversed—not attacking outwards, but drawing it inwards.

Wen Chen once said that the Wood Spirit governs life and can transform all kinds of energy for its own use.

The icy sword energy surged into my dantian through my meridians, was enveloped by the wood spirit root, spun around, and then burst forth from the "Yunmen acupoint" in my palm.

With a clang, the Cold Abyss Sword was jolted out of his hand, striking the protective array and creating a golden-red halo.

Lingyun Immortal Venerable took three steps back, his eyes red-rimmed: "You...you actually managed to draw upon my sword energy!"

I wiped the blood from the corner of my mouth, and the warmth of the heart-protecting jade seeped into my limbs and bones through my palm.

That last burst exhausted a small portion of my spiritual power, but I could feel something warm and cozy stirring deep within my dantian—it was the fragment of "Cloud Shadow" that Wen Chen had given me the day before yesterday. He said it would wake up on its own when I really needed it.

A cheer suddenly erupted from the audience, but I couldn't hear it very clearly.

Lingyun Immortal Venerable bent down to pick up the Cold Abyss Sword. This time, his hand holding the sword was trembling. The bloodstains on his moon-white Daoist robe were like a withered red plum blossom.

When he looked up, the beauty mark at the corner of his eye was blurred by sweat, making it look as if he were crying: "Again!"

As Xuanfeng Immortal Venerable swept his whisk across the protective array, the bells on the golden tassels jingled.

As I gazed at the newly condensed sword energy of Lingyun Immortal, I suddenly recalled how, back in Lei Ze, when I was called a good-for-nothing, I had the same red eyes and gritted teeth.

It turns out that extreme hatred and an unwillingness to admit defeat are essentially the same look in one's eyes.

The heart-protecting jade was burning hot in my palm.

The heat from the heart-protecting jade suddenly surged to a burning pain, and a metallic taste rose in my throat, but I heard a soft "crack" sound from deep within my dantian—like the sound of ice shells shattering.

The fragments of "Cloud Shadow" that Wen Chen mentioned are now drilling into his limbs along his meridians. Wherever they pass, the originally sluggish flow of the wood spirit root suddenly becomes light and quick, and even the wound on his left shoulder that was cut by the sword energy is healing at a speed visible to the naked eye.

“Ayao, Cloud Shadow is an ancient wood spirit artifact. When it recognizes its master, it will awaken the dormant spiritual veins within you.” His voice, mixed with memories, surged up. I looked down and saw pale blue light patterns rising in my palm, like vines wrapping around my wrist and climbing up my arm to my heart.

So this is what he meant by "when it's really needed"—as I stand here, facing the "genius" who once trampled me into the mud, facing the scrutiny of the entire immortal realm, Yunying finally awakens.

"Die!" The roar of Immortal Venerable Lingyun shook the protective array, causing it to vibrate.

He formed a hand seal I had never seen before with his right hand, and the Cold Abyss Sword suddenly grew three inches larger. Strands of black lines seeped out from the icy blue sword energy swirling around the sword—those were the spiritual consciousness corrupted by resentment.

A collective gasp came from below the stage: "He actually... burned his innate spiritual consciousness!"

Only then did I notice that the beauty mark at the corner of his eye was bluish-gray, and the spiritual energy fluctuations under his moon-white Taoist robe were as chaotic as a candle flame in a storm.

It turns out that over the years he not only remembered the off-target lightning strike from Lei Ze, but also channeled his resentment at being surpassed by me into his sword.

At this moment, he was no longer a celestial being, but rather a trapped beast being devoured by obsession.

The moment the edge of the Cold Abyss Sword pierced through the protective array, the entire arena trembled.

I was thrown against the edge of the protective array by the shockwave, my back pressed against the cold barrier. I heard Fairy Mingyue's scream pierce through the roar: "Ayao!" Two golden tassels on Immortal Venerable Xuanfeng's whisk broke off, and Elder Wu's wolf-hair brush snapped in two with a "crack"—they had already seen the ruthlessness of this attack.

"I cannot retreat." I bit my tongue, and as the taste of blood spread, the light patterns of the cloud shadows suddenly transformed into vines that wrapped around the Cold Abyss Sword.

The pale blue vines were frozen into ice shards the moment they touched the sword energy, but in the blink of an eye, new buds sprouted, as if they were using the most primal "life" to fight against "death".

Wen Chen taught me that the true essence of the Wood Spirit Root is never defense, but "continuation"—it can grow back when broken, and live again when withered. As long as the root is there, there is always hope.

"You don't understand at all!" Immortal Venerable Lingyun's face was contorted with pain. "Back then, when I stood on the Lingxian Platform, they said, 'The young master of the Ling family has a spiritual root that appears only once in a thousand years'; later, when you climbed up by stepping on my shoulders, they said, 'Xiao Yao is the chosen one!'" His voice suddenly choked up. "I just wanted... I wanted them to remember me!"

The black patterns on the Cold Abyss Sword suddenly surged, freezing my vines into ice sculptures. Blood droplets from my fingertips dripped onto the ice surface, blooming into a red plum blossom.

The cloud shadows spun wildly in my dantian, and I finally saw the trajectory of those light patterns clearly—it was the Cold Abyss Sword Manual that Wen Chen had taught me to draw a hundred times, which was now overlapping with the trajectory of the Wood Spirit Root's movement.

It turns out he had already anticipated this, using the most basic sand table simulation to etch the opponent's weakness into my very being.

“I remember you,” I said suddenly.

Lingyun Immortal Venerable paused. "In Thunder Swamp, when you deflected that bolt of lightning, I hid behind a rock and heard you say to your followers, 'It's better that this piece of trash is dead;' At the Ascension Platform, you trampled the spiritual herbs I had picked, saying, 'You don't even have spiritual roots, yet you dare to learn how to manipulate objects.'" I sniffed, tears mingling with blood droplets falling onto the ice. "But look, I'm still standing here."

The light patterns of the clouds suddenly merged into a patch of green mist, and I raised my hand and placed it on the Cold Abyss Sword.

The icy sword energy surged into my palm, but this time it didn't reverse; instead, it was enveloped by the cloud shadow and sent back—carrying with me five hundred years of hardship and exposure, carrying the spiritual fruit that Wen Chen gave me when I was in my most desperate moment, and carrying the handkerchief that Fairy Mingyue secretly slipped to my bedside.

“Dang—”

The sound of the Cold Abyss Sword hitting the ground was louder than before.

Lingyun Immortal Venerable staggered backward, crashing into the protective array. The blood plum blossom pattern on the front of his Daoist robe was shaken and scattered.

He stared at his trembling hands, then looked up at me. This time, there was no hatred in his eyes, only an empty, bewildered look: "I lost... I actually lost?"

The cheers from the audience surged like a tidal wave.

I saw Fairy Mingyue rush to the edge of the stage in tears. Immortal Venerable Xuanfeng's whisk finally fell. Elder Wu picked up the broken brush with trembling hands and wrote the three characters "Xiao Yaosheng" heavily on the table.

A young cultivator in a blue robe squeezed to the front and pointed at me, shouting, "Those are the light patterns of cloud shadows!"

She really awakened the ancient artifact!

"Immortal Venerable!"

"Immortal Venerable!" "It was unclear who started it, but the shouts grew louder and louder."

Looking at the dense crowd outside the protective array, I suddenly remembered when I first transmigrated, I was squatting at the door of the servants' quarters, listening to them say, "That Xiao Yao, a good-for-nothing with no spiritual roots."

The sounds changed at that moment, mingling with the wind as they rushed into my ears, burning my eyes with a stinging heat.

Wen Chen's voice echoed in my mind again: "Once you win this battle, no one in the Immortal Realm will dare to call you a good-for-nothing anymore." I touched the Heart-Protecting Jade. This time it was no longer hot, but instead had a cool warmth—just like the temperature when he used to hold my hand and draw sword manuals.

Lingyun Immortal Venerable bent down and picked up the Cold Abyss Sword. This time, he didn't shout "Again!" He simply wiped the blood off the sword with his sleeve and said in a low voice, "I lost." As he turned and walked towards the edge of the arena, the hem of his Daoist robe swept over the blood that had just dripped from me. The red smear gradually spread, like a flower in bloom.

With a light sweep of his whisk, the protective array slowly dissipated.

The Moon Fairy rushed up and hugged me. Her tears wet my shoulders and neck, carrying a faint jasmine scent—the same scent as the handkerchief she had once given me.

I gazed at the still-cheering crowd below the stage, when suddenly I heard a whisper from a corner: "So... even a good-for-nothing can become an immortal."

These words were like a seed, carried by the wind into my heart.

I know that from today onwards, no one will call me a "good-for-nothing" anymore.

But more importantly—I can finally stand beside Wen Chen and watch this vast immortal journey with him.

(In the distance, in a fairy pavilion shrouded in clouds and mist, the teacup on the jade table suddenly swayed slightly.)

The man in white looked up towards the arena, a faint smile playing on his lips. His fingertips lightly brushed over the unfinished letter on the table, on which the words "Ayao will surely win today" had just been written.

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