A snowflake landed on Cai Hua’s shoulders, immediately dispersing into a thousand pieces.

As the invisible blades descended, there was lighting.

But Cai Hua chose to firmly receive it. The bamboo stick broke the path of the lighting and noiselessly yet swiftly moved between the aura exuded by the other three saints. 

The bamboo stick was very tender, not suited for making furniture and even less as a weapon, however, the force behind the bamboo was incredibly strong. For this reason, it could be used exactly like the sharpest of swords.

The invisible thunder sped forward, stopping before the hollow tip of the bamboo stick.

Just at this moment, an oppressive howl came from one of the other three figures. A woman wearing antique armour caked in green rust shot out like a flying arrow. She brought a sky full of soil with her as she rushed through the valley. Her spear seemed to harbour the strength of a crashing tide as it pierced towards him.

The woman eyes seemed craven, yet her actions were completely insane. Her spear moved exceptionally fast and felt as if they carried the weight of the world behind it. 

Cai Hua lamented that the woman’s curves were all obscured by the ugly armour she was wearing as if he failed to notice the tyrannical spear travelling towards him. 

Yet the instant the spear reached him, his long and broad sleeves moved once more.

The man banished his hand and chopped down at the armoured woman. His movements were abnormally simple and could be described as untrained yet unconstraint, it gave the same feeling as that given by two mortal men quarrelling with each other, and one had taken enough and resulted to violence.

The bronze spear had struck first, and the blade-like hand had risen up after, but the blade was not intending to block the spear, but rather, was aimed at the woman behind it. He could do so because his strike was simply much faster than that ancient spear.

The woman was furious, unwilling and cowardly, she immediately swung her spear horizontally to block the chop.

The woman was called Martha. Just as Julia had described, she was the type of person to fear death the most. She could abandon anything, even the pile of gold she sleeps with, to just live a second longer. 

The bronze spear clashed with the tender hand amidst a field of white.

Presently, the invisible blades were still among the cold air. It was fluctuating violently, spilling out winds even colder. 

Saints seldomly meet and fight even less so.

Yet today, three and a half powerful auras met in the Great Dividing Range. 

The half was naturally, Julia. 

The hand sliced through the sky, the spear carried the weight of the world and the invisible blades were harsher than the strongest of gales.

Cai Hua’s body swayed slightly in the wind, just like his bamboo stick, and then, he began to cough. 

The mana surrounding the ranges stirred violently, and the snowfall was blown away by a storm that suddenly rose. 

Yet Julia was abnormally peaceful. Her crimson hair did not flutter the slightest in the wind, and the sound seemed unable to disturb her sleep. 

Irene’s apathetic expression remained, but her temples became wet.

The green rust on Martha’s armour was like great mountains, but streams of blood flowed through it like a river.

Cai Hua stood with his bamboo stick pointed at the invisible blades, another hand hacking the copper spear. It was as if he was an aging bridge that linked two mountains together, ready to fall at any moment.

Finally, that bamboo stick moved. 

That bridge did not collapse.

The hollow body of the bamboo descended, its energy incapable of yielding.

Martha yielded first. Her armours began to shutter and sounded like ancient bells. 

She was forced to retreat back into the mountains. 

The blade energy of the chop continued to follow her.

The hair and dragon horn ornaments on her head danced in the sky. She continued to retreat backwards, leaving holes in many mountains. 

These mountains would then be descended upon by the blade energy, the peaks separating from the body, leaving behind a cleanly cut surface.

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All over the range were cliffs collapsing, snow raising up and boulders flying like pebbles. One could barely make up the figure in copper. 

Finally, Martha managed to suppress the blade energy and stood firm on one of the recently cut peaks. 

At the moment, she was close to the borders of the human kingdom, twenty miles from the shoreline. 

She stared at where Julia’s wooden chair is and said indignantly.

“I can’t die for you.” 

His free hand returned, but he didn’t need the second hand. 

Irene was more than two hundred kilometres from the Great Dividing Range, she could only send her wind here.

The blades made of wind was hovering before the bamboo stick. 

He turned his head South, his eyes carrying a strange emotion.

Irene was not a sentimental person, she didn’t even have pride. In a situation where she would lose, she chose to retreat.

It was so frigid up north, so she pulled her coats closer toward herself.

There was a rumble that came far away, like the remanents of a storm.

In reality, it was the dispersion of those blades of wind. 

She lifted her head to look North, her eyes carrying a hint of frustration.

I can’t die for this. 

The crazed energy of the wind had absolute power, the mountains surrounding Cai Hua collapsed.

Shattered stones and ice flew everywhere, striking sheets of ice and the remaining mountains. 

Snow moved and settled in, covering the exposed fragments. 

Julia still napped on her chair as if she wasn’t even aware of what’s happening. The mountain beneath her was the closest to Cai Hua’s, yet showed no sign of collapsing.

Martha travelled through the mountains that had been cut as cleanly as a mirror. A crack appeared on her antique armour, from it, blood seeped out.

The hand holding her spear was still, yet if one observes closely, her joints were weakly trembling.

Irene’s porcelain face was already as pale as snow, yet now there was a pink flush on her face. 

It was not because her vitality increased, but because blood was flowing through her pores.

Cai Hua swayed in the wind just like the bamboo stick in his hands. Yet the next moment, the bamboo stick disintegrated into ashes, unable to endure the endless spiritual essence he had poured in to strengthen its body.

Then, he began to cough.

He coughed blood and every mouthful of blood was filled with vigour and confidence. 

It was easy to tell that after the bamboo stick had disintegrated, he had exhausted much of his pool of spiritual essence and his body grew haggard. For a saint, the most dangerous situation to be in is in confrontation with another saint, especially in one-on-two situations. The only option could have is to flee, yet he had remained to fight. He had expended his heart blood to push Martha close to the human kingdoms, suffering injuries that could have killed any normal man.

Cai Hua had been hunted like a dog ever since he first learned how to cultivate- no, even before then. He was aware that it would be impossible to flee from three saints, and that these old bastards would flee the moment the risk overtakes the reward. 

He was ever more aware that the best way to defeat someone stronger than him is to borrow another one’s sword.

He gave a foreign bow of courtesy toward Julia and said with a smile, “I shall take my leave now.”

As his words fell, the stars over the Great Dividing Range abruptly began to shake.

A holy and pure mana clouded the sky, causing the air to distort. 

And then, a person from the North arrived. 

This person could be described as someone Julia was extremely familiar with.

The person’s spotless white choir dress floated in the sky, and then instantly flew a few dozen miles from the kingdoms to the north to the edge of the Great Dividing Range. 

That person was a boy dressed carrying a puppy mutt. 

He was completely dustless, but the mutt he was carrying showed the distance he had travelled.

He rushed infront of Martha. 

Martha let out a cry of extreme shock and then slashed with her spear.

The adolescent boy lifted his tender hands, his long sleeves gently waving.

With a single wave, the dark clouds in the sky dispersed, and the sun shore through.

Yet the next moment, his clothes covered the sun.

And then Martha fell back, swiftly evading him, retreating back a hundred miles until she heavily crashed into the mountain Julia was on. 

With a boom, fragments were sent flying everywhere. 

After Martha and Irene’s blades arrived, Julia had kept her eyes closed. But now, they opened like the gates of a city. 

The mountain beneath her collapsed, leaving her wooden chair floating in the air.

On the ground covered in silt and snow, Martha stood vigilantly, her armour showing more cracks.

On the furthest mountain, the adolescent boy clocked his head toward Julia and said. 

“I don’t want to be used by the next generation, but you have violated the treaty.” 

The man’s well-trimmed hair was hidden under a mitre hat, but one could see vestiges of white.

He was relatively young compared to Julia, Martha, or that owner from Phalaris, but he was the oldest human alive. 

That person was very short, and a bit chubby. Like the puppy he held, he was someone with an adorable appearance. 

His expression was very warm and benevolent, as he was the person responsible for the human race. 

He looked at Cai Hua with admiration, then at Julia with reminiscence. 

Who qualifies to bargain with Julia? Alexander had ascended countless years ago, and there was only one person left on the continent at the peak of sainthood.

That was the pope. 

He was one of the thirteen supreme experts on the continent. 

He was a god among man, but not yet a god. 

The snow and wind of the ranges blew violently. 

Yet before anything could happen between the two, Cai Hua took out a blade.

The blade was very ordinary because it was ordinary. He had ordered it to be made some two hundred years ago when he felt stepped foot into the cultivation world by paying the village blacksmith half a liang of silver. 

But it was a sword.

He had used a bamboo stick, but now the bamboo stick has scattered in the wind. 

When he had used a bamboo stick, he had injured the far away Irene and caused Martha to retreat to a place far away.

What kind of power would a strike with an actual sword be? Would it sever the mountains, and cut down the wooden chair Julia sat on? 

Only the clear resonance of the sword began drawn could be heard. 

An ordinary sword appeared in the world, yet as it appeared, the wind becomes a sword, the mountains became a sword, the snowflakes in the sky became a sword. 

Cai Hua was the youngest saint to have existed aside from Alexander. He was a genius in the sword, and this was the first true strike he had used since becoming a saint. 

In the distance, the mountainous bodies of several dozen dragon vassals Julia had instructed to surround the area became extremely fearful. 

Even Julia and the Pope became serious. 

They had heard tales that Cai Hua was extremely arrogant, and had once attacked a figure a level before him to test his blade.

The countless invisible swords that appeared in the frozen ranges were suddenly condensed into a single point with unimaginable power. It chopped at the world. 

Cai Hua struck out.

He struck at the Great Dividing Ranges. 

But he did not strike where the Pope and Julia were standing. 

It was toward the South, toward Phalaris. 

There was absolute silence.

Of the twelve dragons that stood guard there, all were divided into two by the blade. 

In the snow and sky that became quiet, an extremely flat path carved out by the sword suddenly appeared, as if the world was inviting Cai Hua to leave.

Cai Hua, with unimaginable speed, transformed into a shadowy figure and flew into the path he created. 

As he passed through, the snow behind he collapsed and destroyed the path.