Chapter 625: The Strongest Art

Yes, absolutely no one cared about the Magic Pot.

Yan Jing and the man stood at the door, watching each other. Whether their gazes were calm or tinged with a smile, a blazing undertone burned beneath—a fighting spirit like a raging fire.

Both considered the other a truly special opponent.

"Drip, drop."

Drops of liquor continued to fall from the bottle suspended by the Magic Pot. At this moment, it sounded more like a countdown to their duel.

They would determine the victor before the glass was full.

The two men shared roughly the same thought.

Looking at the figures behind Yan Jing, the man's eyes darkened. He formed hand seals, and streams of immortal qi flew from between his eyebrows, transforming into several figures identical to himself.

The figures raised their hands. Feathers sprouted from their palms and transformed into swords in a mere instant.

A sound like a cracking iceberg rang out. The entire space was cleaved by those "soft" feathers, shattering like fragmented glass. Boss Rat had already taken a few steps forward to stand beside the Magic Pot, enjoying the only safe spot in the room.

Rose stepped out from behind the bar at almost the same time, avoiding this wave of attacks using the same method.

That left only Yan Jing.

Or rather, Luo Sheng.

Rose looked at Luo Sheng standing in the center of the shattered space and frowned slightly.

"This gentleman seems to be in some danger."

Boss Rat took out a newspaper.

"Hard to say."

Just as his voice faded, countless pitch-black figures materialized behind Yan Jing.

This time, however, they did not wear the visage of the man opposite him.

Instead, they wore his own.

Figures of Luo Sheng emerged, simultaneously raising their brushes.

As the brushstrokes fell, the shattered space in the air gradually healed.

The brushes moved again, and rifts appeared behind the man.

In an instant, it was like the shifting of the stars and the turning of the sun and moon.

"Crack."

Their clash was no longer limited to physical collisions. Streams of immortal qi and streaks of ink intertwined, fluttered, and strangled each other in midair. Light and shadow shifted, making the interior of the bar seem to constantly switch between day and night in mere seconds.

Rose looked at a wisp of white mist drifting beside her. Sensing the ethereal, rising nature of the immortal qi, she reached out to touch it, only for her fingertip to instantly draw blood.

"Careful."

Boss Rat focused intently on his newspaper.

"These two aren't to be trifled with."

"Who's going to win?"

The Magic Pot's voice trembled.

It wasn't because of the flashing swords and shadows around him, but out of fear as he watched the liquor steadily rising in the glass.

"Who do you want to win?" Boss Rat folded his newspaper and looked at the Magic Pot.

It wasn't often he got to see this Tenth Tier entity, who commanded the wind and clouds outside, trembling all over.

At the very least, it was more interesting than the newspaper in his hands.

"I don't care who wins! As long as one of them wins quickly, that's fine!"

The Magic Pot grew frantic.

It didn't matter to him who won, but at least someone had to.

What if the glass filled up and there was still no victor?

He would be out.

And suffer a combined strike from everyone else...

He seriously doubted whether he could walk out of this bar in one piece.

"I think it will be Mr. Luo."

Boss Rat pointed his newspaper toward Yan Jing in the distance.

"Can that guy really do it?" The Magic Pot grew even more panicked. After all, judging from the current situation, although the two seemed evenly matched, a closer look revealed that Yan Jing was still a notch weaker.

If it was truly as Boss Rat said and Yan Jing still had unused trump cards, didn't that mean they would fight for a few hundred more rounds?

If it came to that, it wouldn't matter who won.

He would be dead for sure.

Just as he spoke, the situation on the battlefield abruptly shifted.

The Magic Pot couldn't help but shudder.

Scenes buried deep in his memory—ones he didn't want to recall—surfaced in his mind.

Fortunately, those memories receded almost instantly, without affecting the bottle in his hand.

He looked back in shock and saw that Rose and Boss Rat both had blank expressions in their eyes.

A power stemming from fear completely erupted from Yan Jing's body, so dense that it was nearly suffocating.

This was...

Sensing this somewhat familiar will of fear, the Magic Pot took a deep breath.

In an instant, the figures behind Yan Jing were all cloaked in a thick shadow, their might skyrocketing!

The surging weird energy had increased by at least several orders of magnitude compared to before!

Inside the bar, it felt like a backward-flowing deluge, a scene of apocalyptic desolation.

Every ceiling tile and every floor tile was now enveloped by those dense ink streaks. Fear grew wildly, and decaying flowers bloomed in the crevices.

The figures formed by immortal qi behind the man were coated in a layer of decadent aura. They trembled, their momentum plummeting as they instantly withered. The weird energy flowing like a great river behind Yan Jing instantly drowned all those figures along with the man.

The man's body trembled.

Blood dripped from the corner of his mouth.

But a second later, he opened his eyes, the excitement in them even more intense.

"I've been waiting for this!"

As he spoke, an eye opened between his eyebrows.

The surrounding white immortal qi suddenly thickened, forming a halo around the man and repelling the weird energy radiating from Yan Jing.

"Boom!!!"

Bright red bloodlines surfaced on the man's arms, and a massive phantom emerged behind him.

As soon as that phantom appeared, it carried an ancient aura, distant and profound, as if imprinting the sun, moon, and stars into the air. With a reach of its hand, a heavy aura of time pervaded the space.

"Bang!"

The phantom raised its hand, and a terrifyingly massive force materialized in the air. The space in front of it seemed to turn into a blank sheet of paper.

Easily crumpled into a ball.

Space collapsed, and air currents reversed.

After crushing the space, that force did not stop, continuing to press toward Yan Jing.

Wherever it passed, everything was reduced to dust.

"Bang! Bang! Bang!"

Ink streaks in the shape of Yan Jing rushed forward, crushed and shattered with pops sounding like bursting balloons, resembling moths flying into the fire. But the force was indeed diminishing.

Even though Yan Jing hadn't deliberately channeled his physical strength, his base constitution remained. The materialized ink possessed similar properties, forcefully blocking the opponent's strike through sheer physical obstruction.

However...

The man's next strike arrived.

The giant phantom seemed oblivious to fatigue. Raising its hands again and again, the massive force sharply increased.

The space ahead collapsed again right after the previous collapse.

"Bang!!!"

The figures behind Yan Jing brandished their brushes, sending out strings of phantoms.

But they still couldn't block the repeated hand raises of that phantom. The dense, great river of ink was constantly pushed back.

Until it reached right in front of Yan Jing.

Yan Jing felt that terrifying power. Although it wouldn't cause him severe harm, he still felt his body vibrating. Blood surged up his throat, threatening to burst from his mouth.

"But..."

Yan Jing smiled.

He really hadn't planned to use his physical strength this time.

In his eyes, the opponent's appearance was a perfect opportunity to hone his skills apart from his physical body.

Then next would be...

Fear Bird Form!

Cracks surfaced on Yan Jing's arms, and winged tentacles extended outward.

Unlike the Fear Bird Form of his other identities, the ends of these tentacles wrapped around pitch-black brushes.

And then...

The brushes trembled simultaneously.

This time, the number of figures exploded.

One became ten, ten became a hundred, a hundred became...

This sight caused the man's pupils to constrict.

He hadn't expected his opponent to still be capable of increasing the output efficiency of his weird energy.

At such a terrifying rate of materializing figures, if every figure possessed the same strength, it meant that the weird energy draining from the opponent's body had reached an unimaginable level.

Where did he get that much weird energy?!!

Yet looking at Yan Jing's expression, there was absolutely no sign that his power was depleting.

The man lowered his eyes, a sense of resolute determination showing in his gaze.

He reached out and lightly tapped the eyeball between his eyebrows.

Instantly, two more phantoms surfaced behind him.

Three phantoms stood simultaneously between heaven and earth. Their appearances and temperaments were completely different.

They were three immortals from a distant era.

Three true immortals.

The man's title, Exiled Immortal, wasn't just a casually chosen nickname.

Because he truly was an Exiled Immortal.

Having endured thousands of years, he used his own body to adapt to the changes in heaven, earth, the sun, the moon, and time, finally arriving in this era.

What he wanted to do was also very simple.

He wanted to achieve Summit once more in this generation.

The three figures reached out simultaneously. The terrifying atmospheric pressure frightened the Magic Pot so badly that his hands shook like sieves.

Even though none of those auras were directed at him.

He still genuinely felt the sensation of being on the brink of death.

Boss Rat finally put down his newspaper, looking gravely toward Yan Jing's position.

Originally, he had extreme confidence in Yan Jing, but looking at it now... things were developing in a direction he hadn't anticipated at all. Yan Jing looked at the three phantoms across from him and curled his lips into a smile.

The identity of Luo Sheng was the only one among all his current identities that had not found its own path.

That was why this felt exceptionally strenuous.

If he used his main body's abilities, he would next need to use the second state of the Fear Stance, or even the third state.

But... that would expose his identity.

Especially the second state.

Anyone would remember that massive towering tree, especially an old hand like Boss Rat.

In truth, he wasn't worried about exposing his identity, but he didn't want to make himself a public target this early.

At the very least... he had to find a way to deal with the Demigod Realm first.

Putting the Fear Stance aside.

Next was the Power of the White Stone.

But... the Power of the White Stone was also too conspicuous.

Just now, his identity as Xue Mo had already utilized a massive amount of the Power of the White Stone, and the Magic Pot to the side had clearly grown suspicious. The Magic Pot was easy to deal with; at worst, he would just kill it.

But Papa Rat had also seen that arrow earlier.

"I can only use this..."

Yan Jing murmured softly.

Behind him, a massive compass materialized. Its needle spun, pointing to the position of "Art."

{Item Name: Universal (Unique True Name) (Gold-Color)}

{Usable Tier: Ninth Tier}

{Item Effect: Give it a light flick, and it will guide you to where you want to go]

[Ability 2: Universal; Myriad Arts]

[When you face an art, Universal's needle will automatically turn to the position of Myriad Arts for you

Your art-related abilities will automatically gain a boost of one tier, while the opponent's art-related abilities will automatically decrease by one tier. You can freely choose to enter the Universal; Art state to master the opponent's art-related abilities you have witnessed (no consumption)

Universal; Myriad Arts can be used actively to display your strongest art to the opponent]

Universal; Art.

This was the ability Yan Jing had used the least out of all the Universal abilities.

Now that it was unleashed, a completely different aura bloomed around Yan Jing.

Golden tassels sprouted along the corners of his clothes. With a jade belt and golden ornaments over his white robes, Luo Sheng's already near-perfect appearance was deepened even further in just a brief moment. He appeared before everyone like a flawless divine statue.

With a light flick of the archaic paintbrush in his hand, tens of thousands of figures materialized.

His speed surged wildly once again.

The man across from him narrowed his pupils. The three phantoms behind him hurriedly raised their hands, but they still couldn't withstand the skyrocketing deluge of weird energy.

Instantly, the three phantoms were riddled with holes.

A spout of blood sprayed from the man's mouth alongside a muffled groan.

Yet the man showed absolutely no intention of backing down. As he looked at Yan Jing, a sense of madness emerged.

This was a struggle for the Great Dao.

It had nothing to do with anything else.

If he wanted to win and achieve Summit on the upcoming Advent Day, he had to overcome this hurdle before him.

He reached up and instantly tore the skin between his eyebrows apart.

As blood dripped down, a person actually sprouted from the top of his head.

No, more accurately speaking.

It was an immortal.

It was an immortal completely drenched in blood.

His eyes were tightly shut, and he wore filthy robes. Long hair cascaded from his head, wrapping around his neck. With his head hung low, his appearance was unclear, and his age was indistinguishable.

But the moment he appeared, the same thought rose in everyone's minds.

This is an immortal.

All previous imaginations and concepts of immortals completely shattered in this instant.

Just one glance at this entity, and they would unconsciously toss those thoughts to the back of their minds.

This is an immortal.

No matter how bizarre he looked or how tattered his clothes were.

He was absolutely an immortal.

Concepts like Zenith Heaven Golden Immortal, Celestial Immortal, and flying immortal were all crushed to dust in the face of this entity. He was the very definition of the word 'immortal'.

Papa Rat couldn't help but suck in a breath of cold air, his mung-bean-sized eyes widening.

To think he had actually witnessed such an entity.

It truly opened his little rat eyes.

But...

What about Luo Sheng?

He involuntarily looked toward Yan Jing, feeling worried for the man opposite him.

Until the corners of Yan Jing's mouth curled up slightly.

And then, he raised the brush in his hand.

He was going to paint.

Paint with his strongest art.

Paint the strongest painting he could possibly create right now.

Universal; Art.

Yan Jing's brush tip trembled lightly, painting out a figure.

The figure's appearance couldn't be clearly seen.

Nor could its height or build be determined.

In the eyes of the others.

That figure seemed to be fluid.

One second, it looked like this; the next second, it morphed into another shape.

It seemed to be wearing a long robe, but also looked like a dress shirt, or a green tunic, or a suit.

It looked as if it had a tail, yet also seemed to bear metal on its head. Its hair appeared curly, yet also looked like a messy, layered cut.

The figure continuously shifted beneath the linework.

Making it impossible for anyone to see the truth within.

Yet, they could feel an alternative kind of truth—

This figure before them was terrifyingly strong.

So strong that the tightly closed eyes of the immortal opposite them were trembling.

So strong that the man from the Immortal Anomaly widened his eyes in shock.

Just like how that immortal had defined what an immortal was the moment he appeared.

The moment this figure appeared, it defined the meaning of strength.

The next second.

This figure moved.

He took a step forward and lightly raised a fingertip.

That immortal with tightly closed eyes stiffened entirely.

A bloody hole appeared between his eyebrows.

And then, as if driven mad, he frantically drilled back between the man's eyebrows.