Chapter Seventy-Nine: Do You Dare to Risk Your Life?
Third Battle: Fang Henqiu versus Feng Jianmei
After a brief rest, the third battle of the day commenced—once again, two sword cultivators whose skills were deeply ingrained.
Feng Jianmei hailed from the Colorful Clouds Peak, inheritor of the Star-Plucking Sword Art from the Seven Swords of the Northern Dipper. Fang Henqiu, from the Green Trees Peak, wielded the Shooting Star Sword Art.
When the two faced off, the valley was filled with a spectacle reminiscent of falling stars, grander than the previous two battles, surpassing them in every respect.
The Star-Plucking Sword Art emphasized the act of plucking—a graceful, agile style, whose every motion left one feeling as though thunder roared in silence. The Shooting Star Sword Art rose from the earth like a dragon breaking free, shining so brilliantly that even sun and moon seemed dim.
Boom, boom, boom—
Their realms matched, their strengths nearly equal, and neither willing to concede easily, the battle raged for half an hour before the victor emerged.
The final winner was—Feng Jianmei.
...
As the dust settled, a brief respite followed.
Within the valley, voices buzzed with discussion, most centered on the three previous battles. Many disciples' eyes sparkled with envy and admiration.
On this day, the Seven Swords of the Northern Dipper became the coveted aspiration of countless disciples.
Yet, in truth, the Peach Blossom Sword Sect possessed many other arts besides the Seven Swords, which required mastery in swordsmanship to be performed.
The two newcomers, Tie Yi and Lei Yinzi, became objects of envy—especially Tie Yi, who had already achieved mastery in swordsmanship.
On the side of the Immovable Peak, Fang Junmei and his two companions naturally fixed their gaze on Lan Zhou.
Lan Zhou’s expression was tense, his eyes steady and silent.
"Today’s final match: Lan Zhou of Immovable Peak versus Feng Wanhai, an outer disciple!"
After another long pause, the steward disciple finally announced the last contest.
The valley quieted; all cultivators' eyes fell upon Lan Zhou and Feng Wanhai.
Feng Wanhai rose abruptly and strode to the center of the valley.
Lan Zhou followed.
They locked eyes, neither eager to make the first move.
"Senior Brother Lan, forgive me today. For the sake of entering the inner sect, I will give everything I have," Feng Wanhai said, his voice hoarse, his rugged face steeled with determination—not solely for Ning Jiuyi, but, after witnessing the prowess of Gu Xijin and others, he knew only by entering the inner sect would he receive greater cultivation resources.
"Give everything? How much is everything?" Lan Zhou smiled, asking.
Feng Wanhai hesitated.
"For the sake of entering the inner sect, are you willing to stake your life?" Lan Zhou pressed, his gaze burning with rare intensity and resolve.
"I am!" Lan Zhou’s eyes snapped open, his voice low and fierce, as he drew the Ancient Path Sword from his waist.
At that instant, hearts trembled. All knew the tone of this battle was set by Lan Zhou’s words.
Linghu Jinjiu and Yang Xiaoman watched, their eyes flickering with keen light, seeing in Lan Zhou the shadow of another person.
...
"I am too," Feng Wanhai roared after a brief hesitation, though his momentum faltered.
Lan Zhou laughed boldly, wasting no more words. Gold radiance burst from him as he swung his sword.
Golden light streamed from Lan Zhou’s very bones, forming a torrent that poured into the Ancient Path Sword. With his first move, he unleashed the final form of the Grand Evolution Storm Sword Art—Commanding the Storm!
Storms surged forth, the bright valley instantly darkened. Phantom wind tigers and cloud dragons roared and charged at Feng Wanhai, the aura vast and peerless.
Crack—
Seeing this, Feng Wanhai’s wolfish eyes flashed with ferocity. He drew his treasured sword, launching it high. As the sword gleamed, a bolt of lightning rolled from the clear sky, striking the tip.
The weather changed in an instant! Moments ago, the sky was clear; now, clouds gathered and cold winds swept away the heat.
Boom, boom, boom—
The two figures crossed paths in the stormy sky, movements swift as specters.
Each clash erupted in thunder, silver lightning shattering like serpents.
Feng Wanhai’s technique, taught by Ning Jiuyi, was the Thunderforce Sword Art. Every strike was heavy as a mountain, imbued with terrifying destructive power, swift as lightning—ferocious and wild, perfectly suited to Feng Wanhai.
With each strike, he drew upon the power of heaven and earth.
Lan Zhou’s Grand Evolution Storm Sword Art did much the same, its speed equally remarkable, excelling in using softness to overcome hardness, borrowing force to counter force—White Chengzhou, Feng Wanhai’s senior, had fallen to this very move.
After only moments, Lan Zhou repeated his strategy; storm clouds rolled, gradually absorbing Feng Wanhai’s power.
Only those who had cultivated the same sword art—Linghu Jinjiu, Yang Xiaoman, and Fang Junmei—understood its subtleties.
Feng Wanhai seemed oblivious, continuing to shift and unleash the Thunderforce Sword Art, his powerful figure like a demigod.
Soon, Lan Zhou’s eyes showed surprise.
At first, he could borrow power from his opponent’s strikes, but after several breaths, he sensed nothing—his opponent seemed to have locked away his strength.
"Senior Brother Lan, can you no longer borrow my power?" Feng Wanhai sneered, eyes sharp as lightning. Seizing on Lan Zhou’s surprise, he thrust his broad sword, sending three thunderous sword shadows at Lan Zhou.
Lan Zhou’s eyes flashed; unable to dodge, he met the attack head-on. Storms surged, Ancient Path Sword glimmering like a blue dragon.
Bang!
Bang!
Bang!
Three explosive sounds echoed as Lan Zhou narrowly deflected the thunderous sword beams.
"Senior Brother, be careful!" Fang Junmei’s warning rang out in the valley.
Lan Zhou’s eyes flickered; after the third beam shattered, a hand formed of lightning struck toward him, aiming precisely at his old wound on the right chest.
Behind the lightning hand, naturally, was Feng Wanhai.
Bang!
The blow landed squarely—too quick to evade or intercept—striking Lan Zhou’s injured chest.
...
Lan Zhou cried out in agony, sent flying, his eyes filled with searing pain. Yet his response was fierce: seeing Feng Wanhai press the attack, Lan Zhou hurled the Ancient Path Sword like a falling meteor, piercing Feng Wanhai’s palm.
Blood sprayed; Feng Wanhai staggered, finally slowed, while the Ancient Path Sword, acting as a spiritual treasure, continued its relentless assault.
Lan Zhou’s clothes were reduced to ashes, his scorched skin black, muscles burned to charcoal, blood pouring forth. The deeper injury lay within—his organs, not yet healed, ruptured anew, blood gushing from his mouth.
Bang!
Lan Zhou crashed to the ground, his face twisted and contorted in pain, red as gold.
Witnessing this, Fang Junmei and his companions felt as if knives twisted in their hearts—for this was their lineage’s leader, the one who stood at the forefront.
...
Elsewhere, many cultivators were moved.
Only Ning Jiuyi’s faction smirked; Ning Jiuyi himself flashed a look of satisfaction.
To counter the Grand Evolution Storm Sword Art’s force-borrowing, Ning Jiuyi had, in these few days, racked his brains, his hair whitening from effort. At last he devised a solution: he planted a Force-Locking spell within Feng Wanhai. Much of Feng Wanhai’s earlier ferocity was an act to mislead Lan Zhou.
"Get out of my way!"
On the opposite side, Feng Wanhai sought Lan Zhou’s surrender, unwilling to be blocked by the Ancient Path Sword.
With a thunderous shout, his broad sword struck the Ancient Path Sword.
With a resounding crash, the Ancient Path Sword was flung aside, issuing a pained cry.
...
Man wounded, sword damaged.
Such was Lan Zhou’s condition.
...
Feng Wanhai, having knocked away the Ancient Path Sword, charged at Lan Zhou again.
Lan Zhou reached to his waist, grasped a handful of sand-like substance, and scattered it.
Whoosh!
A fierce wind arose—the sand transformed into a storm, engulfing Feng Wanhai. No matter how wildly he hacked and slashed within the sandstorm, he could not break free.
As the second disciple of the Daoist of Turmoil, Lan Zhou had been given treasures beyond swords—this sand was one, called Binding Sand.
Sadly, it could only restrain, not kill; Lan Zhou used it merely to buy himself a moment’s respite.
He moved his fingers again, produced a handful of pills, and swallowed them.
With the situation stabilized, Fang Junmei and his companions finally breathed a sigh of relief.
...
Atop the highest platform, the elders grew anxious.
"Senior Brother, those two are likely to fight to the death today—especially Lan Zhou. Shouldn’t we intervene?" Master Liu Feibai of Absolute Strings Peak quietly transmitted his voice to Daoist Tianhe.
Daoist Tianhe sighed, silent for a moment before replying, "When they reach the point of life and death, I will act, but until then, let them fight. This is the rule set by the founder—none may break it."