BTTH: Rebirth of Liu Xi

”The first match — Tang Ying, Han Li, remain. The rest of you, step back.”

The middle-aged elder’s deep voice rang out as he retreated to the edge of the arena. Feng Qing’er, Mu Qingluan, Wang Chen, and the others each withdrew to the side, leaving the battlefield clear.

Tang Ying stood tall in his black robes, a massive azure sword strapped to his back. His expression was cold and severe, killing intent sharp as a blade. His eyes narrowed slightly as he said faintly, ”If you don’t wish to be injured, surrender now. You’re not my opponent.”

Across from him, Han Li — dressed in plain blue — appeared far more ordinary, though a stubborn resolve burned in his eyes. His brows furrowed slightly, and he exhaled a steady breath. ”Since we’ve both come this far, I can’t give up so easily. Let’s at least exchange a few moves. I ask Young Master Tang to show mercy.”

With a flick of his hand, Tang Ying’s azure sword emitted a sharp clang and flew from its sheath, hovering in the air beside him. Standing as straight as his blade, Tang Ying brought two fingers together into a sword seal, pointing them diagonally downward as his voice turned cold. ”A sword is a weapon of slaughter. Once drawn, there is no mercy. If you cannot withstand my sword, surrender now.”

Han Li’s gaze hardened. ”We’ll only know after we try.” His palms came together, and a surge of Dou Qi burst from his body as he roared, ”Azure Wood Body!”

In an instant, his skin turned from a normal flesh tone to an earthy green-blue, covered in intricate, vein-like patterns. His body exuded a thick vitality and a defensive aura as if his flesh had turned into living wood.

Tang Ying’s expression did not waver. His sword fingers sliced through the air, and his voice rang out cold and clear: ”Then I’ll grant your wish. Take my strike — the sword moves like the wind, strikes like lightning! Go!”

The azure sword trembled once before transforming into a streak of sword light. The air itself seemed torn apart, yet the motion was silent, deadly.

In a blink, the sword reached Han Li, its sharp aura howling as it thrust directly at his chest. Han Li’s eyes flashed; his greenish hands curved into claws as he caught the sword shadow head-on. A piercing screech resounded — the sound of steel grinding against stone.

Han Li staggered backward under the force, dissipating the impact. The sword’s speed and power gradually faded, and by the time it landed, it failed to pierce his chest.

With a thought, Tang Ying recalled his sword. It vibrated violently, wrenching free from Han Li’s grasp, leaving several deep gashes in his palms. Han Li’s face tightened. ”Such sharp sword Qi…”

Tang Ying’s fingers shifted, his tone calm yet cutting. ”With defense like that, you’ll never block my blade.”

The sword arced through the air again, circling and striking at the weak points around Han Li’s body. The flying sword moved like a butterfly weaving through flowers, dazzling yet deadly.

Shreds of Han Li’s robes fluttered to the ground as sparks flew from his hardened green skin. Each slash left a white scar across his body, yet he refused to yield.

From the stands, Liu Xi leaned forward, interest flickering in his eyes. ’The power behind them is negligible… but that sword control — that’s something.’ The Ten Thousand Sword Pavilion’s signature sword-controlling technique truly had style.

’A flying sword slaying an enemy from a thousand miles away… truly, one of the few kinds of romance men can understand.’

Liu Xi himself had practiced swordsmanship once, but without a high-level sword-type Dou Technique, he had abandoned it — turning instead toward flame mastery, which better suited his path.

As for Han Li’s Azure Wood Body, Liu Xi could tell it was a body-refining Qi Method. Using wood-attribute Dou Qi to temper the flesh — increasing defense and self-recovery — gave him impressive endurance.

The battle soon reached its peak. Having gauged Han Li’s limits, Tang Ying recalled his sword once again, holding it vertically above his head. His Dou Qi surged like a rising tide.

”Ten Thousand Swords Return to One!”

Sword shadows bloomed behind him like the feathers of a peacock, layer upon layer, countless and radiant. In the next instant, they shot forward like an unending storm of blades.

Han Li’s face remained expressionless, but his pupils contracted in fear. ’Too many sword shadows — I can’t dodge them all. I’ll have to block it head-on…’

He crossed his arms before his chest, stepped forward into a bow stance, and let emerald light surge around his body, forming a shimmering shield.

The storm struck. Sword Qi roared in all directions, enveloping Han Li completely. Even the spectators outside the arena could feel the cutting force — each sword light strong enough to wound a 3-Star Dou Huang severely. Anyone weaker would have been sliced apart instantly.

”This is the Ten Thousand Sword Pavilion’s famous Dou Technique — Ten Thousand Swords Return to One!”

”No wonder he’s a prodigy of Ten Thousand Sword Pavilion. Even among Dou Huang, the difference in strength is that vast…”

Liu Xi nodded in quiet admiration. ”Impressive. That brilliant storm of blades — both elegant and lethal. Within the same realm, few could stand against such power.”

And inwardly, he couldn’t help but smirk. ’Strong or not, that move is damn stylish. Strength fades, but style lasts forever.’

Venerable Jian, normally stern, actually smiled in satisfaction. ”The boy still has a long way to go,” he said modestly. ”Ten Thousand Swords Return to One has three layers — Hundred Swords, Thousand Swords, and Ten Thousand Swords. He’s barely reached the Three Thousand Sword stage.”

Venerable Huang scoffed, ”Strong or not, that move must’ve drained half his Dou Qi. He won’t last long in the next round.”

Venerable Jian’s expression hardened, his voice sharp as his blade. ”Still better than your disciple. Wang Chen’s opponent is Mu Qingluan — You’d best prepare to lose again.”

”Humph.” Venerable Huang snorted coldly, though a faint sneer curved his lips. ’Mu Qingluan isn’t weak — but if Wang Chen uses that move… he might just turn the tables.’

After three or four minutes, the storm of blades finally dissipated. The azure sword spun once through the air before returning neatly to Tang Ying’s back. Though his face remained calm, his heavy breathing betrayed the toll it had taken.

When the dust settled, Han Li stood once more — bloodied, his clothes in tatters, the green hue fading from his skin. His Dou Qi collapsed, barely keeping him on his feet. The outcome was clear.

The first battle’s victor: Tang Ying.

(End of Chapter)

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