Prince Zhao Qian and Jin Wang Zhao Yi sat very close to each other, their faces pale with shock. Despite having seen many powerful martial artists, today they finally understood the true meaning of “recklessness.”
“Hejiu the ‘Invisible Sword'” had indeed held the top spot on the Human Rankings for several years, but neither his cultivation realm nor his combat strength had decisively surpassed others in the top ten. It was reasonable to believe he could defeat opponents like Yan Chong, the “River of Blade Qi,” in one-on-one duels. However, even facing two opponents at once would likely overwhelm him.
Originally, they thought Hejiu would follow a similar path as Bai Qigu, gradually escalating the challenge by fighting two opponents first, starting with the lower-ranked Qinglian and the “Buddha Palm.” Then, he would face the twin-blade masters Su Meng and Yan Chong. If he still hadn’t broken through under pressure, he might then challenge the combined might of “Calculating the World” and “Sword Immortaless.” Yet, unexpectedly, he had leaped straight to fighting four opponents at once. Even if Bodhidharma himself were to return, at this level, it would be impossible to face opponents whose cultivation had reached the realm of Heaven and Man’s Unity.
No matter how skilled one is at fighting multiple enemies, one must still consider the strength of the opponents.
This was akin to directly challenging an “Outer Scene” expert, with absolutely no chance of victory, thus failing to trigger the mutual stimulation of energy and pressure needed for a breakthrough. Otherwise, why would Hejiu go through the trouble of hosting the “Rising Cloud Banquet”? Surely, the East Sea Sword Manor wasn’t lacking in “Outer Scene” experts.
The crowd erupted in astonishment. Even “Outer Scene” experts like Hong Qian from Xijian Pavilion and Wang Rui of the Wang family wore expressions of shock. Was Hejiu truly going to accomplish something unprecedented?
This was even more daring than what Meng Qi had imagined—challenging six opponents at once. Yet Hejiu had eliminated the strongest, Wang Siyuan and Jiang Zhiwei, so Meng Qi was not shocked at all. Instead, he felt Hejiu was indeed not being reckless.
Peng peng peng—the sound of fireworks echoed outside. Through the open doors, one could see blossoms of colorful, dreamlike “flowers” blooming in the night sky.
“Haha, excellent! Truly the ‘Invisible Sword’!” Qinglian’s companion, Liushe, showed no sign of anger, clapping in delight. “All my life, I have loved boldness. Today, I must contribute to this grand occasion!”
He grabbed a nearby wine jar, took a bold swig, and with no loss of elegance, lightly tapped the green scabbard of his sword, singing aloud: “Since ancient times, sages and virtuous ones have been lonely, only drinkers leave their names behind…”
Before his voice had even faded, his sword had already been drawn. Its movements were unpredictable, vast and hazy, with sword qi whistling through the air, revealing no clear tip.
“Vast and hazy, truly hard to seek…” Upon seeing this sword strike, countless scholars who had read poetry felt a line suddenly rise to their minds. Truly, poetry and wine had entered the sword!
The sword qi was vast and directionless, its trail elusive. This strike was truly like the antelope hanging its horns—leaving no trace to be found.
Hejiu laughed heartily. “Well done!”
As he spoke, he raised his right hand, his index and middle fingers casually flicking. His invisible sword qi surged forth like waves, layer upon layer, merging into the hazy expanse.
Meng Qi and the others did not join in immediately, choosing instead to observe the battle first to avoid any loss of dignity.
His mind calm, his internal energy subtly guided by the external battle, Meng Qi felt everything around him gradually take shape within his consciousness. Yet, he could only perceive the momentum of Hejiu’s sword qi—its twists and turns were hard to track. Truly worthy of the name “Invisible Sword.”
Dang!
Wave upon wave of sword qi clashed with “Hazy Mist,” seemingly canceling each other out. Yet hidden within was an invisible, traceless strand that deftly slipped through the dispersing energy and struck the tip of Qinglian’s sword.
Liushe shifted fluidly with the momentum, his sword unfurling like clouds and rosy mists, enveloping the surroundings. His swordlight dimmed and brightened unpredictably, concealing deadly intent. Truly, like clouds and mists, revealing glimpses of brilliance.
As this sword strike was unleashed, mist already gathered midair, reflecting the fireworks outside, creating a dazzling display where each expanding layer seemed like surging sword qi.
Under the guidance of their internal energies, the moment they crossed swords, the battle unconsciously triggered changes in the heavens.
“Excellent!” Hejiu thrust with his right hand, his sword qi shattering the sky, delivering a completely different sensation, breaking through the clouds and mist to pierce into Qinglian’s sword formation.
The sound of continuous clangs rang out as this mighty sword qi pierced through layers of feints and collided with the killing intent and the sword itself.
Liushe’s posture was wild and unrestrained, his swordplay poetic and picturesque. Stroke after stroke, he gave not a single step, locked in fierce combat with Hejiu.
Meng Qi focused intently, absorbing the essence of their techniques to refine his own.
Hejiu’s right hand shifted through five different sword qi styles—sometimes mighty, sometimes ancient and simple, sometimes fierce, sometimes nimble—seeming evenly matched with Liu She.
“You too!” Suddenly, in the midst of the fierce battle, he roared, pointing his left finger and launching a strike toward Xuan Zhen, the “Buddha Palm.”
Qinglian’s swordplay and cultivation were both formidable, yet Hejiu was not satisfied. He actively dragged Xuan Zhen into the fray!
This sword qi was elusive and formless, its origin and destination unknown, sharply contrasting with Hejiu’s right hand, which had not hesitated at all.
Could he really split his focus?
“Amitabha,” Xuan Zhen raised his left hand before him, softly chanting the Buddhist name, while his right palm lightly pushed forward, seemingly devoid of strength.
The palm strike was insubstantial, but halfway through, it suddenly erupted into fierce and pure palm force, causing the invisible sword qi to sizzle and vanish.
This palm, like a mustard seed containing Mount Sumeru, concealed its power within emptiness. As long as it was within the range of his palm’s influence, the force would not weaken with distance. It was the “Sumeru Palm,” one of Shaolin’s Seventy-Two Supreme Techniques. When fully cultivated, it could indeed manifest Mount Sumeru from a single palm strike.
Hejiu’s right hand held off Qinglian, while his left hand flicked repeatedly, sending forth sword qi—sometimes invisible, sometimes formless, sometimes pure and refined, sometimes brimming with deathly intent—forcing Xuan Zhen to leave his seat and employ his footwork, gliding like a reed crossing a river, meeting Hejiu’s sword qi with ancient, steady palm techniques.
His movements seemed simple, yet always managed to strike the weak points in Hejiu’s sword qi, as if his wisdom was boundless, leaving no loophole unnoticed. Even many of Hejiu’s deceptive sword qi were dispelled like illusions with a single ordinary push from Xuan Zhen.
Mastering Prajna, attaining the state of Tathagata, seeing through illusions and reality, comprehending the emptiness of all things!
Xuan Zhen’s “Prajna Palm” had reached a minor perfection, embodying its essence. Combined with his Heaven and Man’s Unity realm, every movement carried the same power as Meng Qi’s “Outer Scene” killing techniques.
Outside, dark clouds gathered, lightning crackling with restrained power. Inside the hall, a serene stillness spread, as if a Buddhist paradise had descended. With each palm strike, Xuan Zhen seemed to contain the “heavens and earth.” No matter how Hejiu’s sword qi changed or pierced through metal and stone, he could not gain the slightest advantage.
With his left and right hands each holding off a Heaven and Man’s Unity expert, even Hejiu was beginning to feel the strain. His sword qi’s range shrank, and he was slowly being pressed back. Yet, true to his reputation, his sword qi remained invisible yet sharp, preventing Qinglian and Xuan Zhen from seizing any opportunity to unleash their ultimate moves.
Compared to Bai Qigu, Hejiu seemed slightly superior, and his ability to split his focus made him clearly more adept at fighting multiple opponents. For now, the battle was at a stalemate.
“You too!” Hejiu roared again, this time spewing forth a sword qi from his mouth. Vast and surging, it drew upon the residual energies and white mist around him, transforming into a dragon-like cloud, rushing toward Yan Chong!
A supposed weakness—the mouth—had been cultivated into a source of sword qi!
Boom!
Lightning struck, thunder roared in the sky, echoing the sword qi, and heavy rain poured down. The fireworks looked sparse against the storm.
Yan Chong drew his blade. The blade light surged like ocean waves, roaring forth to clash head-on with the sword qi Hejiu had “spewed.”
Boom!
The clash sounded like thunder and explosion combined. Sword qi and blade force scattered outward like clouds and mists across the sky, evenly matched, while the “Outer Scene” observers ensured any stray energy mysteriously dissipated.
They had fought to a draw. Yan Chong unleashed his blade techniques, the momentum unceasing, water droplets forming midair, the sound of waves unending, as if he had brought the sea itself here, completely suppressing Hejiu’s mouth-based sword qi.
Hejiu twitched his ears, snorted through his nose, and four more sword qi erupted from his ear and nose orifices—his ears and nose had also been cultivated into sword qi sources!
This time, however, the sword qi was no longer invisible but pure white and refined. The five sword qi, some straight, some curved, seemed to form a formation, resisting Yan Chong’s blade momentum.
Though the situation was precarious and defeat was only a matter of time, Hejiu had indeed, for now, held off three opponents at once without being defeated!
“You too!” Hejiu, now wielding sword qi from his mouth, could no longer speak, but his eyes turned toward Meng Qi.
His eyes gleamed, and two dark, shadowy sword qi shot forth from them, directly aiming at Meng Qi.
His eyes could also emit sword qi!
Though “onlookers” had a clearer view, Meng Qi had been closely observing the battle for a while and had already devised a plan. Facing the two sword qi, he suddenly darted forward like a drifting cloud, narrowly avoiding the strike and drawing his long blade.
Zheng! The sound of the blade being unsheathed echoed, shaking the mist.
Bright and silvery, Meng Qi slashed downward toward Hejiu.
The strike was simple, a basic move from the “Five Tigers Breaking the Gate” technique called “Solo Slash at Huashan,” yet the timing was perfect, like a butcher dissecting an ox. Effortlessly, it cut through the following sword qi, slipping through the gaps in the four-way battle with a momentum capable of cleaving anything in two—nearly unstoppable!
“Excellent!” Several connoisseurs couldn’t help but exclaim. Compared to intricate techniques, achieving such an effect with the simplest of moves was even more impressive. Truly, the “Raging Blade” could not be underestimated!
Hejiu raised his eyebrows and released two more sword qi!
Meng Qi swung his blade, transforming circular force into emptiness, absorbing all, allowing the two sword qi to enter and only cause minor ripples.
From emptiness to form, from yin to yang, his blade suddenly extended, already at Hejiu’s face.
Yin and Yang in three combinations, what is the origin and transformation of Dao?
Meng Qi had now begun to master the essence of his techniques, freely combining them at will!
At this point, Hejiu seemed to be at his limit. Either he had to evade the strike and ignore Qinglian and the others, or he would have to endure it.
Just then, Hejiu suddenly let out a long roar, echoing the rumbling thunder.
Sousou sousou! Sousou sousou! Except for the acupoint between his eyebrows, all 364 major acupoints on his body erupted with sword qi, covering the sky and earth, shattering stone and piercing iron.
“This…” Many young masters from noble families and martial sects were stunned, instinctively rising to their feet.
Meng Qi felt as if the sword qi before him was like a rainstorm. Though four were attacking one, in an instant, he felt as if he had fallen into an encirclement of powerful bows and crossbows. And each sword qi—how could it be compared to ordinary bows and crossbows? For anyone else, contact meant death, a single touch meant destruction. Even with the “Eight-Nine Mystical Art” and “Golden Bell Cover,” how many strikes could he endure?
But how many times could Hejiu perform such an attack?
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