I Am Loaded with Passive Skills

Chapter 3756: Chapter 1817: Xiao Lang_2

Just walk your own path, there are so many stunning talents in the world, how can one let others’ opinions, views, or words sway one’s will?

"Young one, Bazhun’an..."

The people around the tavern, even the demi-saints, looked at Xiao Wanfeng with eyes that had already changed, becoming extremely fiery.

Calling him the young Bazhun’an is somewhat exaggerated.

After all, he is merely walking one of the paths Bazhun’an had tread.

But he possesses the swordsmanship talent to directly cultivate the "Dao root" like Bazhun’an, throughout the five regions, such talent, perhaps aside from Ba Xu, no one can surpass.

"I..."

Cheng Xie looked at the two higher void corpses on the ground, and then glanced at the boy Xiao Wanfeng wielding Xuan Cang, his gaze evasive.

The boundary line on the ground suddenly became so weighty!

In theory, reaching this point, with two higher voids of the Cheng family down, it should’ve been a do-or-die situation.

But the legend of the youthful Bazhun’an suppressing a whole generation was like thunder in the ear.

Certainly, Xiao Wanfeng couldn’t suppress a whole generation, at most he was a tenth of the original Bazhun’an, but what about himself?

"What fraction of Bazhun’an am I?"

One hundredth?

One thousandth?

One ten-thousandth?

Cheng Xie wanted to cross that boundary line, but his feet felt like they were filled with lead, and tried to lift his head to look directly at Xiao Wanfeng, feeling as if riding on a ghost.

His body was bent over, almost crushed to become a large shrimp.

Not everyone can speak freely in the face of the name "Eighth Sword Deity," not everyone has the Burial Sword Tomb, Fringe Moon Immortal City, or the sort of background like the Feng family in the Southern Region, and certainly not every newborn calf is ignorant of the immensity of heaven and earth.

An ordinary ancient swordsman is fanatically chasing after the Eighth Sword Deity.

A genius ancient swordsman, upon hearing the name of the Eighth Sword Deity, either chooses to face the battle to the death or avoids it like the plague.

Cheng Xie even bore the pressure of the Saint Servant gathering swords over the decades.

He was of course a genius, otherwise how could he have gained the recognition of the Sleeve Sword and Dual Needles?

But Cheng Xie, at twenty-eight this year, unfortunately grew up precisely under the engulfing legend of the "Eighth Sword Deity" at its pinnacle.

Genius is merely the threshold to see him.

Upon seeing a glimpse of the Eighth Sword Deity’s iceberg, and realizing the vastness of the deep ocean...

The more a person knows, the greater the pressure.

So even though the young one in front just seemed a part of Bazhun’an, Cheng Xie was already in a state of panic.

"Clang clang clang..."

Just as Cheng Xie found it difficult to advance or retreat.

An out of place strange sound accompanied by unabashedly praising laughter came from outside the dead silent tavern surrounded by the battlefield:

"Ten years hidden a sword, seeking nameless around the world."

"This day listening to the rainbow awaken, even ghosts are startled by Xiao Lang."

"Wonderful! Wonderful! Wonderful! What a Xiao Wanfeng, if there is no talent in the Burial Sword Tomb, the Feng Family City is useless, only you as a wanderer amaze numerous people and overshadow all!"

Who?

Everyone was waiting for the battle between Xiao Wanfeng and Cheng Xie.

All were waiting to see whether Cheng Xie would speak first or Xiao Wanfeng would draw his sword first.

At this moment, not daring to make a single sound, which worm was so rampant as to dare to make such a big commotion from behind, even daring to disdain the Burial Sword Tomb and the Feng family in the Southern Region?

Swish!

The crowd parted.

Everyone looked towards the direction from which the noise came.

Cheng Xie, relieved of his immediate plight, awkwardly wished to thank the savior, not caring which bold guy it was.

However, when he followed the path opened up by the crowd, coincidentally or not, he directly met the gaze of that "savior."

Bam!

Cheng Xie’s knees went soft, and he fell to the ground on the spot.

Stars even appeared before his eyes, his mind filled with disbelief:

"Ba, Bazhun’an?"

The people around the tavern were also astonished.

At first, they did not realize why Cheng Xie was making such a big show, but upon seeing the details clearly, they each held their heads and screamed:

"Damn! Bazhun’an?"

"Brother Zhao, did I see it wrong? Aren’t those eight fingers, and a sword scar on the neck?"

"I...heavens! Huh? Isn’t the Eighth Sword Deity supposed to be on Lingyu Mountain, how did he come here?"

"Damn it, a living Bazhun’an? I finally get to see it, I can boast to my son when I go back!"

"This is the first-in-command Saint Servant!"

"..."

Why is it that the people of the Central Region and Eastern Region are considered ignorant?

There are quite a few from the Southern Region present, and they see so many Bazhun’an every day that they lose count.

The first reaction now is not to think they’ve seen the real deal, but rather a forgery.

Yet, let’s think again.

The four sons of the Burial Sword Tomb are here, and the head of the Feng family from the Southern Region, Feng Tingchen, has also been noticed by many at the scene.

How could a mere forgery dare to act so arrogantly?

From the very start, issuing challenges to the factions’ hegemons, unafraid to fight the famed sword-bearers?

"Surely fake? I see ten of these Bazhun’an a day, cut down eight, and the other two all use escape techniques, sliding away swiftly like they’ve slicked their heels!"

It wasn’t until someone from the Southern Region cursed aloud that Cheng Xie awoke from his trance, realizing that he had been making a fool of himself and disgracing the Cheng family.

He hurriedly got up, face flushed red, looking at the impostor Bazhun’an just about to speak.

"Want to fight?"

The fake had the audacity to speak first, words full of provocation.

Xiao Wanfeng held Xuan Cang, conscientiously wary of its sharpness. I, Cheng Xie, did not want to fight, but where did this wretch come from, some obscure corner of the Southern Region, that there’s no fighting?

Cheng Xie had just opened his mouth.

The burlap man, Bazhun’an, spoke again, making him uncomfortable: "Being outnumbered, I can’t manage; after all, I’m just one person, but bullying the weak..."

As he spoke, he raised a corner of his lips, displaying a hand with only four fingers: "Always been like that, haven’t I?"

How arrogant!

Isn’t this equivalent to saying, I’m invincible, come at me?

"How queer..."

Feng Tingchen wasn’t close with Bazhun’an, having only exchanged glances a few times, feeling something is off but couldn’t pinpoint it.

Saying he’s a fake?

Very strong!

Feng Tingchen could directly sense it; the man’s Sword Will is deep and restrained, his prowess probably not inferior to anyone present.

But saying he’s the genuine article?

Feng Tingchen couldn’t make up his mind and turned to look at the person beside him.

This one was the same age as Bazhun’an and had deep ties.

Gou Wuyue was straightforward: "Bazhun’an’s mouth isn’t this loose."

Cheng Xie became increasingly flustered, red in the face, from the piercing sarcasm from opposite.

He didn’t want to say anything more; war was evident in his eyes as he straightforwardly asked: "Ancient swordsman?"

The scruffy-looking man carrying burlap chuckled: "My name is Bazhun’an, not even I count as an ancient swordsman, who here dares claim themselves to be ancient swordsmen?"

He looked at Xiao Wanfeng: "Do you dare?"

He looked at Lei Shuangxing: "Do you dare?"

He glanced at Gou Wuyue, Feng Tingchen, skipped them, quickly looked back at Gu Qingduo and others, and asked: "Do you dare?"

Cheng Xie was even more convinced that this was an impostor, but still asked another question: "What’s your cultivation level?"

"Coincidentally, I’m also a Sovereign swordsman." The burlap man unleashed his aura, matching Xiao Wanfeng’s level.

Cheng Xie’s heart settled immediately.

Then quickly, he was consumed by wrath: "For the debasement of a revered name, the sin is punishable by death!"

"By you?" Burlap Bazhun’an raised an eyebrow, "Know why I haven’t visited your Cheng family in thirty years?"

Cheng Xie was momentarily stunned, unsure of the meaning.

The surrounding crowd stared wide-eyed.

True or false, false or true, this Bazhun’an is interesting, seems he could actually say a few things?

Bazhun’an adjusted the burlap on his shoulder, shook his head in disappointment:

"Ancient swordsmen move forward relentlessly, but you, Cheng Xie, cower for self-preservation, shrink into corners. Despite combining with the saints to guard swords, in time Present Gods and Buddhas have gradually grown."

"As a result, today, you only dare to outnumber someone. As a result, today, you kneel upon seeing me."

"That Sleeve Sword and Dual Needles following you, surely blinded by the famed sword’s eye, losing the famed sword’s face!"

Cheng Xie was so insulted his head throbbed, blood boiling, almost spitting blood; these words pierced his sore spot.

He raised a hand, retrieved a small sword from his sleeve, and pointed straight at Bazhun’an: "Dare you fight me!"

Atop a tall building behind, Li You of the Yin Ghost Sect saw this scene and covered his mouth as he burst into laughter.

Not daring to fight the youthful Bazhun’an, but choosing instead to challenge the grown Bazhun’an?

The Cheng family does have guts...

The group of four from the Burial Sword Tomb each had an intrigued expression; they also felt that this Eighth Sword Deity differed from the legends.

Only Su Qianqian, witnessing the scene of Cheng Xie pointing the sword at Bazhun’an, was perhaps reminded of something; her face turned pale as paper, drained of color.

Burlap Bazhun’an’s face darkened, his voice gravelly: "Do you realize the consequence of pointing a sword at me?"

Cheng Xie laughed loudly, arrogantly retorting:

"And what of it?"