Divine Flame Crystal

Chapter 685 Seven Colors Soaring to the Sky

In order to save the power of time and space, Kronos will directly bring some characters that have been repeatedly restarted to the next restart. One reason is to save effort, and the other reason is to win, because only those who stand out in each restart have the possibility of defeating the gods and can continuously accumulate the fruits of victory.

One night, Xingluo was practicing in a bamboo forest. The spiritual energy was roaring, but he suddenly went astray. The seven-colored spiritual energy backfired, and his blood vessels were shaken and almost shattered.

It was Pandora who intervened in time and used the power of the ice spirit to suppress the riot in his body, which allowed him to regain consciousness.

"If you die, I will be in trouble." She said coldly.

Xingluo smiled: "So, you are worried about me?"

Pandora was stunned, turned around and said nothing more.

Moonlight streamed down the bamboo forest, their shadows intertwining. At that moment, it was as if something had silently sprouted.

At this point, Xingluo took the first step in cultivation.

The seven-colored spiritual roots destined him to be extraordinary, but also destined him to face countless tests.

In the darkness, the gray-robed old man Kronos watched quietly.

He whispered in his mind, "For the 1000th time...start recording."

The Luoshen Sect's mountain gate stretches across a hundred miles of mountains, shrouded in seas of clouds at dawn and dusk. Atop a sheer cliff, a pristine stone tablet bears the inscription, two characters as vigorous as a dragon: Luoshen. Ascending the mountain steps, mottled sword scars crisscross the stone steps. Legend has it they are the remains of the Taichu Patriarch's "Luoshen Sword," the founder of the sect. Even now, in the first rays of morning sunlight, they still exude a faint, piercing chill. A swordsman would sense the terrifying power of these two characters, as if they could easily slash even the gods of heaven.

Xingluo climbed the stairs with the other new apprentices. The leading deacon wore simple clothes and spoke in a clear voice, "From today on, you will all enter the Luoshen Sect. You must abide by the sect's rules, cultivate your sword spirit, and cultivate your spiritual roots. This sect uses the sword to prove the truth and the heart to carry the sword. Never forget your original intention."

Xingluo looked away, his seven-colored spiritual roots quietly flowing through his body, seemingly resonating with some ancient sword intent hovering above the mountain gate. His expression was always calm, but the moment he stepped through the mountain gate, the depths of his heart seemed to be touched by the subtle sound of a sword.

The apprentice dormitory was deep in the bamboo forest. The night breeze blew, and the bamboo leaves rustled against each other like rain. The new disciples, half excited and half apprehensive, chattered in low voices.

"Have you heard? There's a person with seven-colored full spiritual roots in this batch."

"Really? I've seen the three-colored ones being held by the butler."

"I saw it with my own eyes. On the day of the spirit test, colorful lights shot up into the sky and the sword chant shook the clouds."

"His name is Xingluo. He's the orphan in the village."

Everyone's gaze drifted unconsciously to the young man sitting quietly in the corridor. Xingluo's back was as straight as a pine tree, his eyes slightly closed, as if he was regulating his breathing. Pandora sat by the window, her brows cold and distant. She would occasionally glance at him, but then lower her eyelashes and remain silent.

The next day, the apprentices were led into the Luoshen Sect's Lingchi Valley. Seven clear springs nestled within the valley, arranged according to the elements of gold, wood, water, fire, earth, thunder, and wind. White mist rose from the springs. The leading deacon said, "Enter a state of concentration, draw the spirit into your body, and the seven springs are in order. Do your best. Remember, those who force their entry will suffer repercussions."

Xingluo sat cross-legged, his mind shifting as seven spiritual veins simultaneously opened. Spiritual energy poured in from seven springs, and a surging roar echoed within his dantian. While others were still drawing spiritual energy into their bodies like silk threads, he was already experiencing a torrent of currents. The deacon frowned slightly, thinking, "What a generous heart!" and was about to shout at him to stop, but he saw his breath stabilize in an instant. With a powerful will, he divided and organized the seven spiritual currents, channeling them into a colorful vortex in his center, without any confusion or stagnation.

"Such a character..." the deacon muttered in admiration. Pandora, not far away, opened her eyes and glanced at him, the chill at her fingertips fading and then dissipating.

Three days later, Xingluo had reached the third level of Qi Refining, far surpassing his peers. Yet he remained unperturbed, continuing to practice "Sword Resting" and "Standing Posture" hundreds of times daily. At dusk, he would go alone to the cliffside behind the mountain, stand there for a stick of incense, listening to the mountain breeze and the sword in his heart mutually simmer.

The Luoshen Sect was founded on the sword, and all initiates must register in the Sword Hall. Monthly Sword Arena competitions determine resources and the number of places available for passing on the Dharma. Xingluo's first encounter on the Sword Arena was with Li Heng, from the Seventh Branch of the Inner Sect. He was at the Sixth Level of Qi Refining, possessing formidable sword skills and a long-standing ranking of around 70, making him quite experienced.

"The new member is the guy known as the Seven-Colored Exiled Immortal?" There was a commotion in the audience.

"Senior Brother Li will show no mercy."

"Talent is talent, but on stage it all comes down to accumulation."

The drums sounded. Li Heng unsheathed his longsword, and the sword light flashed like rain. He launched a series of three moves: "Falling Rocks," "Breaking the Stream," and "Parting the Clouds." Xingluo sank his feet, his waist slightly tightened, and the seven-colored spiritual energy gradually tightened inside his right arm. A cold light flashed -

There was a clang, as if a line of light shot straight up into the sky. Xingluo used the "Straight Sword" to break all three moves. Li Heng's palm went numb, and the sword's blade exploded inch by inch. He was thrown back more than ten steps, unable to stand steadily, and still in shock.

The audience was as quiet as a cold pond, then gasps erupted. The deacon suppressed his alarm and announced, "Falling God Sect's Sword Arena, Xingluo wins."

Xingluo stood, sword in hand, his eyes like cold stars, neither joy nor fear. Some people sighed inwardly, "The exiled immortal is truly terrifying." Others sneered, "It's just a wild sword technique, it may not go far."

When a genius emerges, love and hate abound. Several major branches of the Luoshen Sect were secretly unhappy, especially the direct descendants of certain elders, who viewed Xingluo as a thorn in their side. Rumors and rumors of covert actions continued to surface: a servant mistakenly swapped the ingredients in his spiritual diet, an unknown arrow flew through the woods during a midnight sword test, and the library repeatedly refused him entry, claiming it was full.

Xingluo ignored them all, only redoubled his efforts to warm his sword in the bamboo hut. A narrow situation always found a way out. His usual counterattack was to defeat his opponent on the sword stage until he was convinced, making those who were holding the knife in the dark afraid to use it.

Xingluo wasn't alone. Mo had examined the account books many times in the menial yard, helping him uncover the secrets of "spiritual food mismatches" and sending those sleazy bastards out of the inner courtyard in disgrace. Lantis, a natural arithmetic expert, was willing to discuss swordplay with Xingluo at night, dissecting everything from stances to energy. Erwin, from a family of scholars and cultivators, was especially skilled at deciphering talismans and sword manuals, often copying him fragments from the library, difficult to find, and annotating them. Pandora, though cold-spoken, was often the one to suppress Xingluo's unbridled spiritual energy with a touch of chill when he reached the most dangerous level of "reverse bending strength."

One night in a bamboo forest, moonlight shone like water. Xing Luo was practicing swordplay in the dangerous "Seven Intentions" stance. The seven colors of internal energy flowed in unison, barely missing a beat. Suddenly, a wisp of heat surged back, threatening to break through. Pandora hurried out of the shadows and placed a finger on his wrist. The icy spirit penetrated his bones, and the reverse current stopped with a snap, like hitting a cliff.

"You owe me again." She withdrew her hand, her tone light.

"Keep the account." Xing Luo saw that she didn't leave, and a barely perceptible smile flashed in his eyes, "Pay the interest later."

Pandora then turned around, but the tips of her ears were slightly red.

The Luoshen Sect's Discipline Hall had always been clear about rewards and punishments. Xingluo had been a member for just over a month when he was summoned for "crossing the forbidden area behind the mountain at midnight." The Hall Master glared and said, "This nighttime ban has been in place since ancient times. Why did you break it?"

Xingluo bowed, "The wind is strong on the cliffs behind, and the sword energy is clear. I will restrain my left arm, leaving no trace, and not disturbing the spirit beast. If the hall master punishes me, I will accept it."