Wait, How Did My Digital Girlfriend Become a Sword Immortal? - Chapter 347: The Zhenwu Sword Array

Chapter 347: The Zhenwu Sword Array

Meanwhile, at Zhenwu Holy Land.

“Any word from Burning Purity Holy Land? Are they sending reinforcements?”

Leading the Yaoshi Holy Land forces was Real Person Qingzhu, a cultivator at the Seventh Realm of Void Fusion.

Besides her, there were six more Void Fusion cultivators present.

These Void Fusion experts were the last and core strength of Yaoshi Holy Land.

Truth be told, even Qingzhu didn’t understand why Real Person Yuyao had suddenly ordered an attack on Zhenwu Holy Land.

Yaoshi’s strength was already outmatched by Burning Purity—now was the time to lay low and recuperate.

“Real Person, Burning Purity has declined.”

“Expected.”

Qingzhu’s face darkened as she waved her disciple away.

Given the current situation, if she were in Reverend Karma’s shoes, she’d also choose to sit back and watch the tigers fight—waiting to swoop in as the fisherman.

“Real Person… you’re being reckless…” Qingzhu sighed silently in her heart.

Even if they beat Zhenwu, Yaoshi would suffer huge losses.

Whether or not Reverend Karma decided to betray them after that would be entirely up to his mood.

“Is your confidence based on this mysterious seed…?”

Qingzhu looked down at the faintly glowing, infant fist-sized seed in her palm and murmured to herself.

This was a mysterious seed granted to them by Real Person Yuyao before departure.

According to her, this seed could serve as a powerful aid in a critical moment—it simply had to be consumed during battle.

Even with her two thousand years of cultivation, Qingzhu couldn’t identify the nature of this seed.

But since Real Person Yuyao said so—she had no reason to doubt it.

At this point, the battle at the gates of Zhenwu Holy Land had entered its most intense phase.

One-on-one, the Void Fusion cultivators of Yaoshi were no match for Zhenwu’s counterparts.

But they had two more Void Fusion experts—and that was the deciding edge.

“Real Person Yuyao says—if you surrender now, you’ll still have a way out!”

Real Person Lingxu, at the Sixth Realm of Void Fusion, stepped on the chest of a Zhenwu sword cultivator, sneering:

“Even if not for yourselves, think of your disciples! Zhenwu has so many young prodigies—

Do you want them all slaughtered along with you old fossils?”

“Our Zhenwu Patriarch was killed by you people, wasn’t he?”

Blood trickled from the sword cultivator’s mouth, but his gaze remained razor-sharp.

“At Zhenwu Holy Land, we either live standing—or die standing!”

“Form the array—!”

From the gates of Zhenwu Mountain rang a roar of overlapping voices,

Like stone crashing into bronze bells—shattering the clouds overhead.

In the surging autumn wind, over a thousand Zhenwu disciples formed a sword array.

At the front stood a Void Fusion sword cultivator—

His long black hair whipped wildly behind him, but amid the bleak winds, it was already turning white.

Blood streamed from all seven orifices, yet his sword pointed unflinchingly to the sky.

His blood scattered with the wind.

His life force, burned alongside his soul, infused the array.

“Today, I, Wang Qianlin, offer my soul to the formation—

Calling upon the might of heaven and earth to give Zhenwu Holy Land one last chance!”

Heaven seemed to respond—thunder rumbled, and dark clouds gathered.

He was the one who had contacted Li Ziping earlier.

But things had changed too quickly. The battlefield had turned dire.

There was no longer time to wait for Li Ziping and Zhang Mengchu to return.

In a smithy in the mortal realm,

A blacksmith napping at noon was suddenly startled awake by the clanging of metal.

He opened his eyes to see the swords he’d just finished fall from the wall.

Then, as if drawn by some unseen force, they whooshed upward through the roof and vanished into the sky.

Elsewhere on a battlefield, two warring nations faced off.

The opposing generals were dueling in front of their troops when—suddenly—their swords flew from their waists and shot off to the east.

Behind them, soldiers gasped in disbelief.

Above the battlefield, black swarms of swords flew like a reverse rainstorm.

Th𝕀𝗌 𝙘h𝓪p𝗍℮r 𝒾ʂ p𝑜𝖘ƚ𝕖ⅾ bƴ 𝓀𝘪𝑡𝕖𝙣◎𝘷𝙚𝖑

At Zhenwu Holy Land, Luoyue Sword Manor, Shadow Sword Sect—

Any sect with ties to the sword saw their sword tombs tremble.

Broken swords began rising from the ground and shooting toward Zhenwu’s direction.

In mountain forests buried under fallen leaves, ancient swords long hidden beneath the soil began to vibrate violently, then burst free and joined the sky-bound tide of blades.

Before Zhenwu Holy Land—ten thousand swords filled the sky.

Tens of thousands of swords carried the will of Wang Qianlin—

The will of a thousand Zhenwu disciples.

Wang Qianlin stood at the forefront.

His aura had vanished.

But his figure stood straight as a pine tree—unmoving.

This sword array was meant to be activated by someone like Zhang Yibai, a Mahayana cultivator, to unleash its full might.

Now, with only Wang Qianlin and the meager strength of Zhenwu’s remaining disciples, the array couldn’t kill even one Void Fusion cultivator from Yaoshi Holy Land.

But it didn’t need to.

It only needed to force them back.

Once Li Ziping and Zhang Mengchu returned,

They could pick up the sword Wang Qianlin left at his feet—

And ask Yaoshi for the justice they owed.

“Activate—!”

From within the formation came a cry, choked with grief,

Like a falcon wailing blood in the endless sky.

Tens of thousands of flying swords fell like torrential rain,

Blanketing the battlefield and Yaoshi’s invading forces.

Powered by Zhenwu’s ancestral sword array, the swords accelerated rapidly,

Each blade trailing sparks, wrapped in wind and roaring with thunder.

They plummeted from the sky, shredding through air layers with howling force.

Unstoppable. Unbreakable.

As if even mountains or ley lines standing in their way would be cleaved apart.

The swords fell.

Real Person Qingzhu stepped forward and met one head-on.

Her natal artifact was a sword as well—a soft sword she normally wore coiled around her waist.

But when drawn, it was harder than steel.

The clash of swords sent out a blast like thunder shattering stone.

Qingzhu staggered back one step.

Then came the second sword.

This time—two steps back.

By the time the forty-seventh sword fell,

Her hand was going numb. Her breathing grew erratic.

And that was her—the strongest among them.

The rest of Yaoshi’s elders fared far worse.

Any cultivator below Void Fusion couldn’t withstand more than three swords.

Below Integration Stage?

One sword was enough to reduce them to fragments.

“Fall back!” Qingzhu shouted.

The Yaoshi cultivators retreated beyond the array’s reach,

Gazing at the falling swords from a distance.

Qingzhu’s face was grim, but she tried to console her peers:

“Even a centipede twitches when dead.

This protective sword array is powerful, but it can’t last.

Its range is limited.

We simply wait it out. Once it burns out, we attack again.”

“And if they sacrifice another Void Fusion to restart it?” asked an elder.

Qingzhu shook her numb arm, sheathed her sword, and snorted coldly:

“If Zhenwu has the guts to do that, then they’ll be doing our work for us.

If all their Void Fusion cultivators die, isn’t that exactly what we want?”

While Yaoshi waited in silence—

Within the area covered by the sword array’s rain—

A spatial ripple suddenly twisted.

Li Ziping was the first to step through the rift.

He heard waves of sword cries.

Frowning in confusion, he looked up—

And came face to face with a flying sword, heading straight for him.

…

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