Chapter 50: Striking Down Strong Enemies with the Sword in Hand (Part 1)

Chapter 50: Striking Down Strong Enemies with the Sword in Hand (Part 1)

"Wang Yuandao, what do you think you're doing?" Chixingzi stared at Wang Yuandao and suddenly laughed.

"Don’t tell me you actually want to fight me?"

Wang Yuandao glanced at Chixingzi before turning his gaze to the Sect Master of the Huntian Sect and the other elders, speaking unhurriedly, "My disciple, Chen Feng, has yet to make his move. Surrendering now is premature."

Chixingzi couldn’t help but scoff.

"Nonsense!" One of the Huntian Sect elders scowled. "Do you want our Huntian Sect to suffer another humiliation?"

"Not necessarily," Wang Yuandao retorted sharply, his piercing gaze fixed on the elder.

"Chen Feng of Juejian Peak," Sect Master Tuoba Wuxiang’s eyes settled on Chen Feng’s face. "Do you intend to step forward?"

"This disciple is willing to reclaim our honor with the sword in hand," Chen Feng replied solemnly, bowing slightly to Tuoba Wuxiang. Every word he spoke seemed to carry an astonishing sharpness.

The crowd was stunned.

The three Quasi-Saints from Tianyuan Sacred Land were momentarily taken aback before their expressions turned mocking.

"Seeking attention!" the elder who had reprimanded earlier snapped again.

"Do your best," Tuoba Wuxiang said.

He allowed it, though he didn’t hold much hope for Chen Feng.

Chen Feng took a step forward, his sharp gaze sweeping over the three Quasi-Saints from Tianyuan Sacred Land. His piercing eyes instantly made them feel as though an invisible sword had grazed them.

"Who among you… will face me first?" Chen Feng asked, his voice calm yet chilling.

"Leave this to me, Senior Brothers," the blue-robed girl immediately declared. Zhao Kuang, who had been about to step forward, paused upon hearing her.

Having just lost to Xiao Xuanwu, the blue-clothed maiden was seething with frustration.

She had thought she would have to leave in defeat, but now, unexpectedly, she had another chance.

Though she couldn’t defeat Xiao Xuanwu, crushing another Eleventh Transformation Body Forging cultivator from the Huntian Sect would at least ease some of her bitterness.

The blue-clothed maiden activated her Bloodline Divine Trait without hesitation. A formidable aura surged around her, and the air instantly frosted over, the temperature plummeting at an alarming rate.

An ordinary person would freeze solid on the spot.

Even a Tenth Transformation Body Forging cultivator would be significantly affected by the extreme cold, their Force circulation slowing noticeably.

The blue-clothed maiden attacked with full force, her palms coated in a layer of icy Blood Light. Like a fluttering butterfly, she unleashed a barrage of palm strikes, countless afterimages enveloping Chen Feng from all directions, threatening to overwhelm him.

She intended to crush Chen Feng with absolute dominance.

After all, Chixingzi had already informed her via voice transmission—Chen Feng didn’t seem to possess an Innate Divine Trait. He was likely just a Mortal Body.

A mere Mortal Body, even if he had somehow reached the Eleventh Transformation of the Body Forging Realm, how could he possibly contend against a top-tier Saint-Grade Divine Trait like hers?

He was only fit to be a defeated dog.

As the countless freezing palm shadows descended upon him, Chen Feng’s eyes grew razor-sharp.

He drew his sword.

A clear, melodious sword hum resonated through the air. The Flowing Cup Sword was instantly sheathed in an invisible yet domineering and razor-sharp Force, merging with the blade’s innate sharpness to form a flowing, autumn-water-like gleam along its edge.

"Wind Shadow… Twenty-Four Swords!"

A low hum escaped Chen Feng's lips as his sword moved like a gust of wind, leaving behind fleeting shadows. In an instant, twenty-four sword phantoms tore through the air, each condensed with astonishing sharpness and momentum, capable of piercing through anything.

Sensing the overwhelming force of the sword phantoms, the Blue-Clothed Maiden's eyes narrowed in surprise. Without hesitation, her palms shimmered with a frost-blue glow, revealing a pair of gloves woven from silk-like threads—a spirit artifact. She hadn't used these gloves in her battle against Xiao Xuanwu, as he hadn't wielded a spirit artifact either.

The twenty-four sword phantoms converged in an instant, condensing into a single, dazzling sword light. Its brilliance was unparalleled, its sword pressure overwhelming, rendering all defenses futile beneath its radiance.

The layers of palm shadows unleashed by the Blue-Clothed Maiden were instantly shattered.

In the next breath, the sword light dispersed, but the Blue-Clothed Maiden was sent flying backward with a muffled grunt. A sharp pain shot through her palms—had it not been for the spirit artifact gloves, they would have been pierced and destroyed.

"Next." Chen Feng stood tall, sword in hand, his sharp gaze sweeping over Zhao Kuang and the black-clad young man. His voice was calm, yet it carried an authority that shook the world.

Stunned silence.

Every face in the crowd bore an expression of utter disbelief. The most improbable outcome had just unfolded before their eyes, as if it were an illusion.

Xiao Xuanwu stared at Chen Feng in shock, while Ye Yunqi was even more astounded. Only Wang Yuandao remained composed, his expression one of quiet confidence.

Sect Master Tuoba Wuxiang's eyes gleamed as he studied Chen Feng intently.

"Wang Yuandao, what divine trait does your disciple possess?" Chixingzi's eyes flickered like crimson starlight as he scrutinized Chen Feng, only to find nothing but a Mortal Body. He turned to Wang Yuandao for answers.

"Mortal Body," Wang Yuandao replied unhurriedly.

This answer sent another wave of shock through the crowd.

Hearing it from Wang Yuandao himself was entirely different from mere speculation.

"Impossible!" Chixingzi refused to believe it.

How could a mere Mortal Body rival—let alone defeat—a top-tier Saint-Grade Divine Trait?

"Why not? Have you forgotten the one from three thousand years ago…?" Wang Yuandao responded with a cold smirk, leaving the rest unsaid.

The crowd fell into a heavy silence.

Chen Feng naturally overheard his master's words, stirring his curiosity, but now was not the time for questions.

"You truly surprise me," Zhao Kuang let out a wild laugh as he stepped forward. "But it doesn’t matter. Lan Shimei had only just broken through to the Eleventh Transformation of the Body Forging Realm and underestimated you, which is why she was forced back. Now, I’ll reclaim her honor."

With those words, Zhao Kuang's long blade materialized in his hand, its edge cold and domineering.

His Innate Divine Trait surged, and his Force was unleashed without restraint.

In a single step, he crossed over a dozen meters as if Shrinking the Earth to an Inch, appearing before Chen Feng in an instant. His blade descended with terrifying force, its oppressive pressure sucking the air from Chen Feng's lungs, nearly suffocating him.

Yet, Chen Feng's expression remained unchanged. With a swift shift of his body, he evaded the devastating slash, his Flowing Cup Sword tracing an elegant arc through the air in retaliation.

There was no denying it—Zhao Kuang was far stronger than the Blue-Clothed Maiden.

Or, to be more precise, Zhao Kuang's blade skills were superior.

Each slash of his long blade carried overwhelming force, as if capable of splitting mountains and shattering boulders, cleaving through the air and making the surroundings grow heavy, relentlessly pressing down on Chen Feng.

Chen Feng's figure swayed lightly, his footwork and movements executed with effortless grace and agility.

With a single horizontal strike of his sword, blade met blade, unleashing a shocking burst of force and momentum.

As Chen Feng's body swayed, he instantly dispersed the overwhelming power before launching another sword strike.

Chen Feng's swordplay seemed to lack any rigid structure—each stroke flowed naturally, unrestrained and unpredictable. This was the level he had attained after mastering over a dozen sword techniques to perfection.

The Sect Master of the Huntian Sect, along with the elders and Chixingzi, wore expressions of astonishment.

In their eyes, such swordplay was nothing extraordinary, riddled with flaws. However, the issue was that they were all experts of the Dao Integration Realm, having cultivated for at least several centuries. The martial arts they had practiced were vast in number, and their own realms and attainments were exceedingly profound.

In their youth, not only had they lacked swordplay as refined as Chen Feng's, but they might not have even reached a tenth of his skill. How could they not be amazed?

"My disciple has already touched the threshold in the path of the sword..." Wang Yuandao murmured inwardly, a glint of satisfaction flashing in his eyes.

Even he, the most outstanding figure of the current generation in the Huntian Sect, had only reached this stage after the age of twenty.

His disciple had achieved it two or three years earlier.

Two or three years meant little in the face of a strong cultivator's lifespan, which spanned hundreds or even thousands of years. Yet, in many cases, such a difference determined speed and slowness, strength and weakness.

A lifetime of contention was built upon moments of struggle.

With his extraordinary swordplay, Chen Feng gradually suppressed Zhao Kuang.

Though Zhao Kuang possessed a top-tier Saint-Grade Divine Trait, granting him immense power, Chen Feng's mastery of the fourth level of the Huntian Sword Body was no ordinary feat. The gap between them was not vast, and with the Huntian Sword Force amplifying his sword techniques manifold, combined with his peerless swordsmanship and movement techniques, it was no surprise that Zhao Kuang found himself at a disadvantage.

Suppressed, fury continued to build within Zhao Kuang. With a furious roar, his long blade erupted with radiant light as he gripped it with both hands and slashed downward from above with devastating force.

A single strike—as if it could sunder mountains!