The Great Zhou Celestial Grand Derivation Sword Formation

"Willow Drift Step!" came a low gasp—barely audible beneath the rumbling rotations of the sword formation, yet it did not escape the sharp ears of Fengyun Wuji.

Fengyun Wuji swayed ever so slightly and drifted backward. A ring of swords that had just surged forward to strike him missed and immediately retreated, seamlessly replaced by another circle of blades. The exchange between the two formations was flawless—no gaps, no hesitation, no sign of interruption.

From four other directions, additional sword rings spun rapidly toward him, each forming a formation of its own. These smaller formations were all part of an even greater, more complex sword formation. Such an intricate design, such awe-inspiring mastery—how could Fengyun Wuji not feel a thrill of excitement?

The Mahā Sword Formation—seven swordsmen to a team, drawing upon the forces of heaven and earth. Mahā, meaning "infinite," implied a formation of immeasurable power. Even a single unit of the Mahā Formation could withstand an opponent ten, even dozens of times more powerful. However, the great flaw—one that had long haunted Fengyun Wuji—was that these formations functioned independently. There was no interaction or synergy between multiple Mahā units.

This limitation had plagued Fengyun Wuji since the formation's inception. Time was one factor, but the greater issue lay in the nature of the Mahā Sword Formation itself—it was his own creation, born from personal enlightenment. Its foundation was a composite of countless guardian sword arrays from the various sects of this realm.

To grasp their essence was one thing; to master them entirely was another. Insights gained from navigating and surviving these arrays could not compare to true, lineal knowledge passed down for generations. These sect-protecting sword formations had evolved over thousands of years, refined by tens or even hundreds of generations. The depth of their wisdom was profound. That Fengyun Wuji had already deciphered the essence of connecting sword energy to heavenly power—and could amplify offense and defense by manyfold—was impressive enough. But as for discovering the secret of formation interlinking without access to the complete diagrams and mantras? That was beyond his reach.

The more he observed, the more fascinated he became. If he could decipher the mechanism of interconnection between these formations, the power of the Mahā Sword Formation would rise dramatically. This was the real reason Fengyun Wuji lingered here—he wasn't in a hurry to leave. But he couldn't deny the threat posed by the formation either; were it not for the trump card he still held, he might have already fallen.

From above, the vast formation looked like overlapping rings of spinning blades, rotating rapidly and relentlessly. Formations attacked from all sides, wave after wave. And Fengyun Wuji, like a drifting willow seed, weaved and floated amidst the barrage. Though powerful, the sword formation stirred the wind with every strike—and where there was wind, Willow Drift Step rendered him nearly invincible.

Outside the Northern Ice Sword Sect's main gate, tens of thousands of Ascended sword cultivators formed a sea of blades. Fengyun Wuji was like a lone skiff on a stormy sea, bobbing and swaying but never capsizing. His figure rose and fell with the sword winds, always dodging the sharp edges by the slimmest margin.

There were always gaps between sword formations, but those gaps shifted constantly. Fengyun Wuji, however, seemed to glide effortlessly into the ever-moving crevices without conscious effort—simply by activating Willow Drift Step and following the natural flow of sword energy, he always happened to be in the right place at the right time.

From a distant pavilion of the Northern Ice Sword Sect, a thin, elderly man watched Fengyun Wuji drift among the blades, his expression turning uncertain. "Could it be... the long-lost divine technique, Willow Drift Step?"

Several other elders nearby also wore looks of doubt. One of them hesitated before speaking. "According to legend, Willow Drift Step was exactly like this—effortlessly maneuvering through even the Celestial Grand Derivation Sword Formation, created through the tireless efforts of the famed Baixiaosheng of the Heaven's Mechanism Sect. Unless he's a direct inheritor of the Sword God, no one else could manage this. Could he truly be... a grandmaster descended from the Celestial Realm?!"

"Stop jumping to conclusions," came a thunderous rebuke from Baili Lang, head of the Vast Sword Sect. Though over 400 years old, he had the youthful appearance of a boy, and his seniority even surpassed that of the legendary Grandmaster Chi Shang. As soon as he spoke, silence fell, and all eyes turned to him.

"During the last great ascension, though we were not present, we all saw it—those winged creatures that emerged from the rift in the sky, slaughtering thousands of our ascending comrades in an instant. Now someone of immense power appears from above, unharmed by this sword formation—does that make him the Sword God? Could he not also be a threat in disguise? We've already paid dearly once. The Celestial Realm isn't the paradise we imagined. Everything we've heard is legend. Before the Sword God, no one ever returned from ascension. We must be cautious."

All those present nodded in agreement. That previous mass ascension had been a grand event. Every sect had sent representatives to safeguard their elders, only for disaster to strike without warning. Severed limbs fell from the skies, and blood rained on the earth. It wasn't the aftermath of tribulation—it was clearly a massacre. Ever since, many cultivators at the threshold of ascension had chosen to remain in this realm, fearful of what lay beyond. Now, the number of Ascended cultivators gathered in this realm had grown to a staggering degree.

Gradually, Fengyun Wuji had discerned the rhythm of the sword formations. He even gained insight into how they coordinated with one another. But full comprehension was impossible without the original diagrams and mantras.

He was now certain that another force had arrived before him, infiltrating this realm. Until he uncovered their identity, Fengyun Wuji had no intention of escorting any Ascended cultivators out. As long as no one from this realm succeeded in ascending, then by the agreement between the Sanctuary and the Celestial Courts, the Celestial Realm could not interfere.

At last, Fengyun Wuji unveiled his ultimate technique. Releasing his full Sword Emperor Domain, the attacking sword rings halted just feet from his body. A moment later, the air was filled with the hum of countless blades. Every sword aimed at him trembled violently, then bowed their points to the ground, as if in submission. Shock rippled through the crowd of Ascended cultivators.

"Kneel," Fengyun Wuji said coldly.

His aura surged. Under the overwhelming pressure of the Sword Emperor Domain, every sword cultivator—unable to resist—dropped to their knees with a collective thud, prostrating themselves in a full kowtow.

The Celestial Grand Derivation Sword Formation had been completely neutralized. Against someone of superior realm with complete mastery of the sword, no formation—no matter how complex—could inflict harm. More than that, any sword cultivator caught in the Sword Emperor's domain was utterly incapable of resistance.

In every heart rose the instinctive awe one feels before a sovereign. They felt a deep desire to offer absolute loyalty—yet simultaneously, a sense of humiliation and disbelief.

Fengyun Wuji stood with hands behind his back, robes fluttering in the wind. Around him, sword cultivators knelt in concentric circles, layer upon layer, spreading outward like ripples in a pond. Even the elders watching from distant towers found themselves powerless before the Sword Emperor's will.

Terror and awe gripped the crowd. Though some still harbored thoughts of resistance, they were utterly incapable of acting on them. What they felt was not a choice—but a soul-deep compulsion to submit...