A Blind Swordsman's Sword Coffin

Li Guanqi looked back at the unrecognizable Zhou Shiyu in the medicine pool. His expression grew complicated. “Before this, I would’ve thought Zhou Shiyu couldn’t lose to anyone but Lu Wuhen.”

Nangong Xuandu tilted his head back and took a swig of wine, his deep eyes fixed on Li Guanqi. “What about the next round?”

Li Guanqi reached up and tore open the realm’s barrier, not a trace of doubt in his voice. “Fourth round, Ye Feng.”

Nangong Xuandu frowned slightly and murmured, “I thought Ye Feng wasn’t back yet?”

Li Guanqi kept his back to Nangong Xuandu. A faint smile touched his lips, his eyes resolute. “He’ll come back.”

Flash!

The barrier sealed shut, cutting off the Purple Spirit Paradise Realm from the outside world. No one but Li Guanqi could enter now. He had to keep the trio safe.

When Li Guanqi reappeared, he cast a cold stare at the Lu clan.

At that moment, the war drums of Daxia Sword Sect rang out even more thunderously than before. The steady, unified beat wore at the Lu clan’s morale on some intangible level. The relentless, wordless display of defiance was all the more invigorating.

The disciples of Daxia Sword Sect now stood suspended in midair, their densely packed ranks a breathtaking sight. Not a single one among them had a weak aura.

The Daxia Sword Sect outnumbered the Lu clan, with far more mid Nascent Soul Realm cultivators.

As time passed, every gaze in the sky gradually converged on Li Guanqi. The Daxia Sword Sect had no one left to send out. Barring any surprises, everyone assumed that Li Guanqi would be their choice for the fourth match.

Yet, Li Guanqi stood in midair, perfectly composed, as if the fourth round didn’t concern him in the least. For a time, everyone wondered what he was thinking.

Everyone knew that Lu Wuhen, the Lu clan’s eldest son, was exceptionally powerful, one of the top prodigies among the ancient clans. If Li Guanqi took the stage now, Lu Wuhen could simply send out a sacrificial pawn. Even if Li Guanqi won, the score between the Lu clan and Daxia Sword Sect would be tied, leaving Lu Wuhen free to claim the deciding match with ease.

Li Guanqi’s fingers trembled slightly, and a faint smile tugged at his lips.

He silently extended a thread of divine consciousness, and his expression darkened. No response.

Those two were already dead.

Lu Wuhen frowned. He hadn’t expected the other side to break free so quickly.

As his thoughts raced, the air around him suddenly turned scorching hot. The temperature began to climb at a frightening rate.

Hum!

Cultivators everywhere started and turned toward the western sky.

Space twisted, and terrifying green flames tore open a hundred-zhang-wide rift.

Five massive vengeful ghosts surged forth, wreathed in fire. A grim-faced middle-aged man slowly emerged from the void, stepping on the skulls of the vengeful ghosts.

He held two charred corpses in one hand. Beside him stood a hunched elderly figure.

The moment the two appeared, the cultivators in every direction rose to their feet.

“Greetings to the Five Yang Ghost Emperor!”

“Greetings to the Five Yang Ghost Emperor!”

The cultivators bowed in unison. Even the ancient clan cultivators drew sharp breaths.

Meng Jiangchu’s icy killing intent swept over every ancient clan cultivator without restraint.

Daxia Territory Lord Zhou Yunqing rose slowly, smiling. “Brother Meng, what brings you here? And this would be... Fellow Daoist Gu, Pavilion Master of the Heavenly Intelligence Pavilion?”

Meng Jiangchu’s eyes locked onto Lu Hengtian. He narrowed them slightly and hurled both charred corpses at the elder!

Lu Hengtian didn’t even look. He raised a hand and crushed the two corpses to dust.

“I had to come,” Meng Jiangchu said coldly. “If I hadn’t, I’d never have known someone was trying to assassinate the juniors.”

Covered in blood, Ye Feng stepped out of the void with a cold laugh. He flashed Li Guanqi a goofy grin, then turned toward the Lu clan, his smile turning to ice.

He stared at Lu Wuhen and laughed coldly. “Didn’t expect this, did you? You bastard! I’m still alive!”

As he spoke, he dragged his index finger firmly across the corner of his mouth.

Lu Wuhen’s breathing quickened at the gesture, and his killing intent erupted beyond all control. Within the Daxia Sword Sect, he had always considered only Li Guanqi worthy of his attention. He’d never imagined that the first time he issued a challenge, Ye Feng would emerge from seclusion and tear his mouth open, humiliating him in front of everyone.

Li Guanqi smiled, seeing that Ye Feng wasn’t seriously injured. He had already treated most of his wounds on the way.

Ye Feng came to stand beside Li Guanqi, then frowned and transmitted, “What’s the situation?”

Li Guanqi concisely summarized the situation. Before he could even finish describing Xiao Chen’s predicament, Ye Feng was already on the verge of exploding with rage.

Ye Feng’s killing intent surged, and demonic qi seeped from his Ghost Arm. The strange sight left many of the spectators stunned. Some looked confused, while others seemed to grasp at least part of what was happening.

To help Ye Feng suppress the Abyssal Demon power he’d absorbed, Li Guanqi entrusted him with his Yin Hellfire.

Through Spirit Pardon, Ye Feng had fully mastered the Ghost Hand’s power. Yet now, everyone could sense a strange killing intent surging around Ye Feng.

Li Guanqi frowned slightly and said quietly, “Calm down.”

At Li Guanqi’s words, Ye Feng’s eyes snapped back into focus.

He took a deep breath, his chest rising and falling steadily. In ‌a breath, he suppressed every last trace of killing intent. His cold, murderous aura receded like a tide, as though it had never existed.

Ye Feng’s eyes went utterly still. With each breath, his vital force settled into calm. Without turning his head, he walked toward the martial stage.

“I won’t lose this round,” he said quietly.

Li Guanqi said nothing. He looked toward the Lu clan, his lips curling into a cold smile. “Don’t give the Lu clan the chance to surrender.”

With a grim expression, Lu Wuhen said quietly, “Ancestor, summon Brother Xiuzhong.”

Lu Hengtian looked equally somber. Losing a disciple as gifted as Lu Xingyuan pained him. He let out a faint sigh. Without turning his head, he said, “Go summon Xiuzhong. Tell him... Xingyuan has been killed.”

One of the elders behind him nodded and turned to leave.

Space shuddered, and a square-faced man in brocade robes slowly emerged from the warped void.

An icy aura surrounded him. His bloodshot eyes swept across the field, their gaze frigid.

He looked toward the elder. “Ancestor... My brother is dead?”

Lu Wuhen looked at the man, paused briefly, and then said, “Xingyuan is dead. He was killed by the Daxia Sword Sect.”

Lu Xiuzhong closed his eyes in anguish. A single tear slowly slid ‌from the corner of his eye.

He gripped his sword and said coldly, “I’ll fight.”

Ji Yuchuan’s eyes widened. He sent a grave voice transmission. “Ye Feng, be careful! This man is the other Twin Monk, no weaker than Lu Xingyuan. Don’t underestimate him.”

Ye Feng took a single stride forward, his voice utterly flat. “Whoever it is, I’ll take his head.”