Gravity-enhanced water shields, Gravity-enhanced stone walls...
Chong Xuan Sheng's pudgy fingers danced rapidly, layering defensive Dao techniques one after another across the path.
"Whether I'm qualified or not — Chong Xuan Zun isn't even clan head yet, so he doesn't get to say! And you certainly don't!"
In this life-or-death moment, he held nothing back.
His Dao techniques were numerous and varied, but deployed with elegant precision.
"Someone's fighting him for the clan leadership, yet the man himself isn't half as worked up as you. Brother Yiwu — what's this about? Could it be that you two..."
Chong Xuan Sheng's mouth never stopped, nor did his hands.
"Oh! Getting angry? Did I hit a nerve?"
"Afraid of people finding out?"
Chong Xuan Sheng retreated with remarkable agility, still talking. "It doesn't matter. Once we leave this place, no one will remember what happened here."
The fist arrived. Gravity-enhanced water shield shattered.
The fist fell. Gravity-enhanced stone wall crumbled.
None of his defensive techniques could stop Wang Yiwu's advance.
"You're not walking out of here!"
His fury had transcended all reason.
Even dragons have reverse scales, and to touch them means death.
He knew this was Chong Xuan Sheng deliberately enraging him.
But he no longer wished to endure.
In the outside world — in the army, on the battlefield, in the capital — he had encountered such tactics before.
With his strength, there was no need to hold back. But he always had.
Because sometimes worldly power was something even fists couldn't defeat.
He had endured every time.
But now he no longer wished to endure.
Here in the Celestial Residence Secret Realm, beyond the reach of worldly rules — Wang Yiwu refused to endure any longer!
He was so powerful. Why should he still have to endure?
"You wanted to anger me?"
"I'll grant your wish!"
His fist moved. A howling gale erupted.
Wang Yiwu was like a mountain peak toppling, unstoppable by anything.
In a single instant, his fist obliterated every defensive technique and struck Chong Xuan Sheng squarely in the face.
The clear sound of cracking bone was terrifyingly brutal.
Chong Xuan Sheng's massive body was sent flying, nearly blasted off the stone platform entirely, before Jiang Chen caught him and pulled him back.
"You've angered me!" Wang Yiwu could have killed Chong Xuan Sheng with a single punch, but he didn't.
Instead, he sent the fatty flying first, then strode after him. "But can your anger handle mine?!"
Jiang Chen set Chong Xuan Sheng down, then turned to face Wang Yiwu directly.
This was the Wang Yiwu who had fought one against five, nearly defeating each opponent.
This was the Wang Yiwu praised by Jiang Mengxiong as the strongest Heaven-Piercing cultivator of the age.
And Jiang Chen stood before Chong Xuan Sheng, facing this man.
Simply because he had once said the words: "Don't worry."
From the Cloud Country to the State of Qi, the mountains and rivers stretched endlessly.
Along this entire journey, he had slept in the wind and risen with the dew, chasing stars and racing the moon.
He had not slackened for a single moment.
Because the moment he stopped, the massacre of Maple Forest replayed over and over in his mind.
That was the place that had raised him, where he had wept and laughed.
Everyone else was dead. The living had to carry something forward.
He could not leave this burden to Jiang An'an. As her brother, he could only carry it himself.
Along the way, his Dao techniques had grown steadily more refined, but he had never truly drawn his sword.
Even he didn't know how powerful this sword would be when finally unsheathed.
I have a sword that has traveled ten thousand miles.
From distant Zhuang Country's Maple Forest City, through endless marches into the lands of Qi.
All the wind, frost, rain, and dew along the way — it was all within.
Are you ready... to see this sword?
Before the sword was even drawn, Wang Yiwu's gaze grew solemn.
He had not planned to kill Chong Xuan Sheng immediately, but now he had no choice but to unleash his full power.
Great winds howled.
Wang Yiwu's feet continued forward. Jiang Chen stood firm, hand on his sword.
The white-haired youth and the hawk-eyed soldier.
The undrawn sword and the unleashed fist.
This was one against five.
Those still capable of fighting would naturally not sit idle and let them decide it alone.
Li Longchuan had fired two arrows without result, coughing blood and retreating. But his feet held firm, his hands steady.
He pulled his headband down, covering his eyes directly.
The eyes need not see. The heart sees first.
The arrow need not arrive. The will arrives first.
The heart is before the eyes; the will is ahead of the arrow.
This was the Arrow of Intent.
With a single thought, the arrow was already before Wang Yiwu.
The arrow roared and spun, like a storm with a dark core.
Its release seemed unremarkable, but its landing would split the earth and collapse mountains!
CLANG!
Wang Yiwu's fist smashed into the arrowhead, producing a piercing ring.
And in that exact moment, Jiang Chen drew his sword.
This sword, which had traveled ten thousand miles, possessed a brilliance impossible to describe.
It embodied all of Jiang Chen's comprehension and devotion to the sword, truly born from the depths of his very soul.
Words could barely capture it. Images could barely approximate it.
If you had seen the sun and moon crossing the sky,
If you had seen the stars filling the heavens,
Then you had seen this sword.
This was a sword that pierced through sun and moon, stars and sky!
It met Wang Yiwu's No-Self Killing Fist.
Sound — as if there were no sound.
Light and shadow — as if everything had frozen.
Jiang Chen's sword tip hovered, fixed against the surface of Wang Yiwu's fist.
Suddenly.
From that seemingly indestructible fist, a single drop of blood fell.
That drop of blood shattered the stillness.
Instantly, a fierce gale erupted and the cloud sea beyond the stone platform churned violently!
Wang Yiwu retreated two steps, his right arm hanging limp.
This was the first time since the battle began that he had truly been wounded.
The first time he had truly been knocked back.
And in Jiang Chen's hand, the entire sword shattered to pieces.
Not even fragments remained — it disintegrated into metallic powder, drifting away like dust.
What a pity, Jiang Chen thought.
If he had possessed a finer sword, that strike might have truly crippled Wang Yiwu's hand.
He fell backward, landing squarely on the just-rising Chong Xuan Sheng.
"It's not over yet!"
Xu Xiangqian, who had been waiting for his moment, bit the tip of his left finger and roared: "Die!"
Having been obstructed repeatedly, even Wang Yiwu now abandoned any contempt.
He spun his head sharply, raising his left arm, fist raised like a hammer, preparing to meet force with force.
But at that very moment, a line of blood appeared, swiftly circling beneath his feet.
Then brilliant light exploded outward. Wang Yiwu felt his fury, his battle spirit, and his killing intent all being drawn out, pulled into the blood like substance, intertwining with Xu Xiangqian's blood.
A cocoon of crimson light flashed into existence, with faint characters dancing across its surface, enclosing Wang Yiwu within.
Using blood as thread, wrapping oneself in a cocoon of one's own making!
"Run!" Xu Xiangqian shouted, leading the charge toward the Heaven-Reaching Tower.
His grand display had been nothing more than bait to lure Wang Yiwu in.
His goal was never to kill the enemy — only to trap him.
As long as they escaped the Secret Realm, they would be the victors.
But at that moment, Zhang Yong — who had been lying on the ground for what felt like eternity — sprang to his feet!
He hadn't actually lost the ability to move. Most likely, he had been waiting for a chance to strike. His eyes were still closed, yet it didn't affect his ability to find the path at all. He followed close behind Xu Xiangqian, fleeing into the Heaven-Reaching Tower.
Chong Xuan Sheng hoisted Jiang Chen onto his back and ran even faster than Zhang Yong, darting into the Tower in a blur.
Li Longchuan, his Arrow of Intent shattered, had been momentarily stunned. By the time he recovered, the others had already escaped. He didn't push his luck, following them all into the Tower.
Within the cocoon of crimson light.
Wang Yiwu roared and threw his fists, but he was no longer at his peak. And that shimmering barrier, though it couldn't harm anyone, was inexplicably sturdy.
Because it was woven from his own fury, battle spirit, and killing intent — essentially, he had bound himself.
BANG! BANG! BANG! BANG!
Four devastating punches, and the temporary prison was finally shattered.
But outside the Heaven-Reaching Tower, only Wang Yiwu remained alone.
Chong Xuan Sheng's escape, above all, was a declaration of his failure.