Chapter 469: Chapter 469: I’ll Try Again

Seeing the Abyss Watcher come back to life with renewed vigor, Fang Zhou quickly dodged away.

Yet, after the Abyss Watcher revived at full strength, it did not taunt Fang Zhou but transformed into a black shadow and soared into the sky.

Finally, it turned into a tiny black dot, barely visible without careful observation, hovering in the night sky.

“What is it trying to do?”

Fang Zhou questioned the Flame King, not quite understanding the Abyss Watcher’s bizarre actions.

The Flame King didn’t answer, his expression solemn as he stared up at the black dot in the sky.

Fang Zhou and the Flame King didn’t have to wait long before the Abyss Watcher’s body began to emit a vast amount of black light.

This black light was as deep and dark as a black hole, blacker than the night sky, spreading quickly through the night like thick ink poured into water.

In the blink of an eye, the entire firmament was shrouded in an abyss of black, forming an enormous dark curtain.

This dark curtain was not merely luminescent; it was almost solid, with wave-like patterns on the surface, resembling a dark ocean overturned onto the sky.

This oppressively dark mass gave a strong sense of pressure to the Heroic Spirits below, making them feel insignificantly small as they gazed up.

At the center, the Abyss Watcher had long been engulfed by the black light, disappearing without a trace.

Fang Zhou looked up at the astonishing scene, feeling not only overwhelmed but also intensely angry.

What does it mean to cheat when you can’t win? Is there no fair play anymore?

Though Fang Zhou would sometimes do the same, he absolutely disliked seeing an enemy do it.

He wanted to intervene, but in this situation, he really didn’t know what to do; the other’s actions were too fast, leaving him at a loss.

When the dark curtain expanded to its limit, it began to slowly sink, as if the entire sky were falling, unleashing an even more terrifying pressure.

Fang Zhou looked grave; if it sunk any further, he might escape with Bi An and the gourd, but the Heroic Spirits would likely be wiped out.

Fang Zhou certainly wouldn’t flee in such circumstances; though hope to stop it was slim, he had to try.

He spread his hands, a glint of gold flashing in his eyes.

Golden sword shadows emerged from the void–ten, hundreds, thousands, tens of thousands, a vast sea of golden sword shadows, their tips pointing upward, converging above Fang Zhou’s head, covering almost the entire battlefield.

Using this move for the second time in a short period, Fang Zhou struggled, sweat drenching his forehead.

The oppressive feeling on the Heroic Spirits was greatly lessened by the golden sea, and hope gleamed in their eyes, for light would eventually conquer the darkness.

Fang Zhou could create no more; a hundred thousand golden sword shadows were his current limit, with his Innate True Qi depleting rapidly.

He raised his hands slightly, and the hundred thousand sword shadows shot upward, the entire golden sea rising to crash against the descending dark curtain.

The two approached quickly; the hundred thousand golden sword shadows smacked into the black curtain, exploding on impact as they gave way to the concentrated energy mass.

The surface, once like waves, rippled intensely, as if a torrential rain fell into water, with countless small splashes under the assault of the sword shadows.

Golden sword shadows collided with the black curtain incessantly, sacrificing themselves to expend its power and impede its descent.

But the hundred thousand sword shadows ultimately couldn’t stop the vast black curtain from blocking out the sky, and despite Fang Zhou’s frantic efforts, he couldn’t create sword shadows fast enough.

Sword shadows dwindled, and the unrestrained curtain continued its fall.

Fang Zhou looked defeated, realizing that on his own, he couldn’t halt this.

But in the next moment, countless green lights soared heavenward–the Heroic Spirits on the battlefield.

Following the sword shadows, they braved the black curtain, sacrificing their own souls to halt its descent.

Fang Zhou’s eyes widened in astonishment at this.

“Leave!”

The Flame King’s voice echoed in Fang Zhou’s mind.

Fang Zhou turned, seeing the Flame King watching him from afar, his once-majestic face now full of hope and encouragement.

“Take hope and leave this world; we will hold them off for a time.”

“No, I won’t run!”

Fang Zhou firmly rejected the Flame King’s suggestion.

The fearless presence of the Heroic Spirits stirred something within him, making him tremble, goosebumps rising all over his body.

Though Fang Zhou might have most liked running when overmatched, he would not abandon these Heroic Spirits at this moment. Doing so meant losing all courage and conviction for the rest of his life, becoming a cowardly person.

He looked to the sky and declared decisively, “I want to try again!”

The Flame King gazed steadily at Fang Zhou, no longer urging him to leave.

Fang Zhou took a deep breath, closed his eyes, and began to perform the Sword Control Technique, his sensing power instantly covering the entire battlefield.

In the darkness, he seemed to see numerous points of light, some bright, some dim, scattered across the battlefield.

These were the weapons left by the warriors after their deaths, buried deep beneath the battlefield, rusting and decaying over countless days and nights.

Not all these swords were Spirit Swords, but their owners had entrusted their Spirit onto the weapons after their death.

In this moment, Fang Zhou finally understood why the Heroic Spirits of Cold Valley had lingered here; their spirits and souls were anchored in the weapons, unwilling to leave.

Using the Sword Control Technique, Fang Zhou could feel the emotions and wills emanating from these rusty swords, a vast sea of messages almost drowning him.

The call and cry to continue fighting for light and hope resounded through them.

Fang Zhou slowly spread his hands, as if embracing these honorable Heroic Spirits.

“Come forth!”

The Heroic Spirits in the mountains and fields vanished suddenly, returning to the swords that bore their spirit and soul.

The entire battlefield shook as if an earthquake had arrived, the ground rumbling and quaking.

In the next moment, accompanied by countless sword sounds, innumerable swords responded to Fang Zhou’s call, breaking free from the earth as they trembled.

Massive heaps of corpses collapsed, releasing the swords buried beneath, soaring into the air.

Longswords, short swords, Wave Swords, Knight Swords–all types of swords in the world could be found.

Not just swords, even those chipped battle axes and broken hammers responded to Fang Zhou’s call.

Countless weapons ascended into the sky like soldiers ready for battle, neatly arranged above Fang Zhou’s head, blocking out the sky.