Wait, How Did My Digital Girlfriend Become a Sword Immortal?-Chapter 193: The Sword Orb

Chapter 193: The Sword Orb

"Kunlun Palace's little dog... is this all you've got?!"

The battlefield had sunk several meters deep from the impact of the ongoing battle.

Boom!

Wang Shouyi was once again sent flying, his body tumbling across the ground, carving a trench dozens of meters long.

The protective glow around him flickered twice before vanishing entirely.

His Heart-Guarding Mirror shattered, and his moon-white Daoist robe lay in tatters.

The Bone Porcelain Bodhisattva extended a single finger.

An 卍 (swastika) symbol flickered at its tip as it stabbed toward Wang Shouyi’s chest, ruthlessly draining the spiritual energy from his Dantian and Purple Mansion.

Gritting his teeth, Wang Shouyi desperately formed a hand seal.

Boom! Boom!

Two talismans exploded against the porcelain armor, but the flames were absorbed by the Bodhisattva’s cracked glaze.

The fire was reflected back at him, scorching his fingers black.

Worst of all—

His Seven-Star Linked Sword Formation, originally suspended in midair in the shape of the Big Dipper, was being devoured by the Blood Marrow Golden Wheel behind the Bodhisattva’s head.

"Daoist brat!"

The Bone Porcelain Bodhisattva’s grotesque face loomed close, her bloody tongue shooting out to wrap around Wang Shouyi’s right hand, stopping him from forming further seals.

"Didn’t your master ever teach you?

The kilns of Jinde Town..."

A chilling, glass-on-glass screech echoed from all directions.

"...are best at refining your Daoist righteousness to ashes! Hahahaha!"

Wang Shouyi felt his spiritual energy rapidly draining.

Even his Ancient Sword of Judgment, which had been holding back the Bodhisattva’s finger, was losing its radiance.

"Damn it... is this my limit?"

Gritting his teeth, he glared at the monstrous Bone Porcelain Bodhisattva.

Ten years of bitter cultivation.

He had descended the mountain to slay demons and prove his worth.

He thought this first mission would be a mere test of his skills.

He hadn’t expected to run into a Foundation Establishment-stage ghost cultivator this powerful.

The ghastly flames surrounding the Bodhisattva’s porcelain finger pressed down inch by inch, threatening to crush both him and his sword to dust.

"In the end... I still can't do it?"

Blood spilled from Wang Shouyi’s lips.

At that moment—

BOOM!

A thunderclap split the sky.

For an instant, the entire world turned white.

A bolt of lightning crashed down—striking the Bone Porcelain Bodhisattva!

"AAAAAAHHHHHHH—!!!"

The ghostly shriek reverberated through the ruins.

The pressure on Wang Shouyi’s sword lightened for just a moment.

But he was already too exhausted to fight back.

His Ancient Sword of Judgment slipped from his fingers.

The world spun before his eyes.

As he collapsed backward, he suddenly felt someone catch him.

Turning his head slightly, he glimpsed the Demon Slayer Bureau members—the ones who had ‘run away’ earlier.

"Cough, cough... didn't you all leave...?"

To think he would be saved in his final moments.

Tears welled up in his eyes.

Not abandoning. Not giving up.

This... is humanity.

Glory to my people!

"Actually, we were about to leave... but he didn’t want to."

Lin Chen tilted her chin toward the figure at the front.

Wang Shouyi turned his gaze.

The man who had stood at the very back earlier, the one with a ridiculously handsome face,

now stood at the very front.

His shoulders were not particularly broad,

But beneath the moonlight, his shadow covered everyone behind him.

"Th-this man..."

Wang Shouyi’s voice trembled.

His finger shook as he pointed at Chen Huai’an.

"H-his pants are about to fall down..."

Then, he promptly passed out.

Xiang Xiaoyuan: "..."

Zhao Ying / Lin Chen: "..."

"Ahem."

Chen Huai’an paused, still holding up his lightning talisman.

Quickly, he reached down and pulled up his pants.

His belt had snapped earlier, and every time he flared his spiritual energy, his pants inflated slightly—as if they really were about to fall off.

"Was that lightning your doing?"

The Bone Porcelain Bodhisattva, her head scorched black from the strike, sneered at him.

"*Brat, your thunderfire has righteousness... but it still lacks power.

My kiln flames devour righteousness—I'll use yours to restore my strength!*"

Her white porcelain arms flickered with ghostly fire.

Within the flames, visions of the past appeared—

The Mingde era.

Countless young girls thrown into the kilns as blood sacrifices.

These sacrifices had forged the Bone Porcelain Bodhisattva’s sinister form—

A monstrosity blending ghostly and Buddhist energies.

"You actually cultivated Buddhist techniques as a ghost?!"

Chen Huai’an’s face twisted in disgust.

Did this mean that while she was performing blood sacrifices, she actually thought she was ‘saving’ them?

What kind of twisted logic was that?!

What he didn’t know was that—

The Bone Porcelain Bodhisattva had been born in a time of extreme drought.

Famine had driven people to cannibalism.

Instead of letting these suffering people kill and eat each other,

She believed it was better to ‘offer’ them in blood sacrifices.

She genuinely thought she was doing good.

For the girls sacrificed,

They were not just sacrifices to "resurrect" the magistrate’s son,

Their families also received food in return.

Families could keep their remaining sons alive.

It was a willing exchange—a "mutual agreement."

A "fair trade."

"Enough."

The Bone Porcelain Bodhisattva raised her hand.

Her praying hands suddenly parted.

Her right hand, once human-sized, expanded like a collapsing mountain.

The palm was inscribed with blood-red scriptures,

The air froze solid,

The wails of countless ghosts shrieked around them.

She had been weaker than Chen Huai’an before.

But now—her strength had surpassed his.

If she consumed both Chen Huai’an and Wang Shouyi,

She could fully restore her foundation.

To her, this was fate.

She cared little for Wang Shouyi.

A Western Kunlun disciple?

So what?

He was just an "Outer Disciple."

The true Inner Disciples of Western Kunlun wouldn’t even care if he died.

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He was just a pawn.

"Tsk."

Chen Huai’an gazed up at the descending giant palm.

"I really shouldn’t have relied on these Sword Pavilion disciples to craft talismans..."

He flicked through his crumpled lightning talismans.

Their handwriting was terrible.

Clearly, these kids’ hands had been shaking while making them.

How could talismans drawn so poorly have high quality?

Not a single one was mid-grade.

All of them were trash.

The Bone Porcelain Bodhisattva sneered.

"What’s wrong? Out of tricks? Then die!"

BOOM!

The giant palm slammed downward.

"Out of tricks? Nonono..."

Chen Huai’an shook his head.

Casually, he reached into his pocket—

And tossed a Sword Orb into the air.

This Sword Orb had been created by Zhen He, the most notoriously cunning disciple of the Sword Pavilion.

"Alright, buddy. Show me what you’ve got."

Real men don’t look at explosions.

Chen Huai’an calmly turned away, hands in his pockets, walking toward Zhao Ying and the others.

"Let’s see... just how sneaky you really are!"

Shiiing!

The Sword Orb exploded.

A single sword aura slashed out—

Piercing straight through the Bone Porcelain Bodhisattva’s palm...

And her entire body.

The clouds split apart.

The sky cracked open, revealing the moon.

Walking in the moonlight, Chen Huai’an smirked as he listened to the sound of stone crumbling behind him.

"*Good sword.

Good... schemer.*"

...

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