Spirit Ruin, Sword Coffin, Blind Swordsman

Boom!

An aura no weaker than Lu Xiuzhong’s erupted, and golden celestial light surged up from the ground.

Swirling sword qi coiled through the air, layering into a barrier.

Sword Heart Realm sword intent? How laughable.

Ye Feng didn’t understand when something like that had become worth showing off. With Li Guanqi around, if his sword intent didn’t keep improving, Cao Yan and the others would probably mock him to death.

Blood and vital force surged through him like rolling thunder.

Ye Feng’s face flushed. His bones crackled, and his muscles tensed and bulged.

Li Guanqi could no longer hold back the smile creeping up the corners of his mouth.

Nine Heavens had really suffered lately…

Before Li Guanqi left the sect, Nine Heavens had inwardly mocked Peng Luo’s misfortune. Yet, now it was the one being nursed back to health on violet ginseng. Li Guanqi had gone all out to prepare for this battle on the martial stage. The brothers had given everything they could.

Ye Feng licked his lips, feeling stronger than ever before. He pushed off the ground and shot forward like a cannonball.

The entire stage trembled. The spot where he’d been standing caved in, leaving a massive pit.

Lu Xiuzhong’s eyes widened. Ye Feng was already in front of him.

Boom!

The Wrathful Slaughter Sword slashed across with deceptive simplicity. Lu Xiuzhong blocked on instinct, but the impact still hurled him hundreds of zhang to the side. Before he could react, Ye Feng was already on him again.

Ye Feng’s speed was almost too fast for the eye to follow, beyond even the divine consciousness blanketing the area. By the time Lu Xiuzhong’s divine consciousness caught him, Ye Feng had struck again.

Thud!

A burst of sword qi erupted. Lu Xiuzhong’s vital force surged as he barely blocked it, but another strike was already coming from behind.

Everyone watched the stage in stunned disbelief.

Lu Xiuzhong was flung about like a tattered sack, and his few attempts to counter accomplished almost nothing. Ye Feng’s raw strength overwhelmed him, plain for everyone to see.

Thud!

Ye Feng kicked Lu Xiuzhong in the gut, sending him hurtling into the stage with a resounding crash.

Rumble!

The stage shook, its center caving into a pit over two hundred zhang across.

Ye Feng pressed his advantage. He lunged forward, swinging his sword and sending thousands of golden sword lights scattering in every direction.

Boom boom boom! Boom! Rumble!

A relentless torrent of sword qi rained down like a storm, hammering the ground and giving Lu Xiuzhong no room to breathe.

Ye Feng growled, “Heaven-Opening Tier, Wrathful Slaughter! Wrathful Slaughter, Ghost Asura!”

Boom!

Ye Feng unleashed the full power of his Ghost Arm.

The sword rays now carried a soul-chilling cold. Within the golden rays, black flames wove together with twisting demonic qi.

With a single slash, he tore through the surrounding space, leaving a long rift in its wake.

The black flames devoured the crack as it spread. The sword rays, fully a hundred zhang across, seemed to carry the howling of vengeful ghosts, the wind off them sharp enough to cut.

Lu Xiuzhong’s immense aura strained against the golden sword rays, but before he could shatter them all, the sword had already fallen.

Rumble!

The sword struck clean through the thousand-zhang stage, and the sword rays slammed into the array barrier surrounding the stage with a thunderous boom.

To everyone’s horror, several fine cracks spread across the barrier’s surface.

Nangong Xuandu frowned and raised his hand, releasing a wisp of azure light.

The array barrier flashed bright. The cracks vanished, and not even a ripple of the clash remained.

Xi Yunhuai clicked his tongue and muttered, “Now that the barrier’s been reinforced, even a Mahayana Realm cultivator going all out inside wouldn’t cause a ripple.”

Ye Feng hovered in midair, his chest rising and falling as the vital force around him churned. His ferocious, ghoulish appearance was enough to send shivers down anyone’s spine.

His spirit void buzzed, and speckled bloodstains seemed to surface on his blade.

Nearly every cultivator above the Mahayana Realm felt their heart skip a beat.

Nangong Xuandu’s eyes locked onto the sword in Ye Feng’s hand. His throat bobbed, and cold sweat beaded across his forehead. “This feeling... It’s a little like Second Sister’s saber. That sword spirit void has slain an immortal!”

He wasn’t the only one. Lu Hengtian and Zhu Ying shot to their feet as well, their cloudy eyes wide with shock.

Meng Jiangchu’s large hands crushed the armrests of his throne as he leaped to his feet. Gu Yong folded his hands into his sleeves. Even Ji Yuchuan’s posture seemed to straighten.

Zhou Yunqing frowned slightly, his gaze fixed on the spot between Ye Feng’s brows.

Then he heard Meng Jiangchu’s ice-cold voice. “Zhou Yunqing, if you value your life, don’t get any ideas. You see that azure-robed sword immortal? There are seven more just like him. If you don’t want to die, keep your thoughts to yourself.”

Zhou Yunqing’s expression tightened. He immediately buried the thought and turned to offer a slight bow toward Meng Jiangchu’s back. His heart still hammering, he glanced at Nangong Xuandu, whose narrowed eyes were fixed on Zhu Ying and Lu Hengtian. His gaze carried a clear warning.

The dust settled. Lu Xiuzhong stood at the edge of a crack in the stage, his Daoist robes in tatters and soaked with blood, gasping for breath. He was covered from head to toe in gruesome sword wounds.

At the last moment, Lu Xiuzhong had used a secret technique to shift three chi to the side.

Lu Xiuzhong looked up at the figure hovering above him and smiled bitterly at himself. “Heh, I really did underestimate you.”

Ye Feng stuck a finger in his ear and sneered. “You’re already in this sorry state, and you’re still pretending to be some big shot? If you could’ve dodged, you would’ve dodged. What’s with the act?”

Ye Feng’s words left Lu Xiuzhong speechless. His blood churned, and he nearly spat out a mouthful of blood.

Lu Xiuzhong shut his mouth. Every last trace of contempt vanished from his eyes. As he swallowed pills to heal his injuries and restore his vital force, interwoven lights of many colors flickered across his arms and back, forming what looked like half a spirit light totem on each side.

Hum!

Lu Xiuzhong’s spirit void hummed between his brows, and the aura of his King Spirit Void spread outward.

Ye Feng’s eyes narrowed, his expression growing more solemn. His relentless barrage hadn’t given Lu Xiuzhong a chance to breathe, and he meant to keep it that way.

Thud!

A muffled sound rang out. Ye Feng’s figure vanished from midair in an instant, leaving behind only a pitch-black void dozens of zhang across.