Chapter 119: Civilization Level

Chapter 119: Civilization Level

"Boom!"

He Jia punched the wall of the Heavenly Thunder Bell and felt a swirling force transmit from the bell, pulling at his body with such intensity that it threatened to drag him inside. Just as he prepared to force his way free, three lightning tendrils shot out from the bell, coiling around his arm and binding him tightly.

Before he could steady himself, He Jia was dragged into the bell.

"Bang!"

Ning Xiaochuan struck He Jia’s chest with a palm strike, forcing him back a step. However, He Jia’s Indestructible Diamond Body allowed him to endure the full-force blow without injury.

He Jia sneered, "With the protection of my Ice Corpse Cold Qi, even ordinary Mystic Artifacts can’t break my body. Do you really think your palm is stronger than a Mystic Artifact?"

His body encased in ice, He Jia unleashed a monstrously powerful palm strike toward Ning Xiaochuan.

I have no choice but to use the Annihilation Sword Dao.

By channeling only the sword intent of the Annihilation Sword Dao and not summoning the Demonic Sword itself, Ning Xiaochuan could avoid drawing fatal consequences upon himself.

The Annihilation Sword Dao was the most domineering and destructive sword path in the world.

Annihilation Sword Wave!

Ning Xiaochuan formed a sword seal with his index and middle fingers, condensing a razor-sharp sword intent at his fingertips that drained all the Heaven and Earth Profound Qi from the entire martial arena.

"Whoosh!"

A Sword Wave shot from his fingertips, piercing straight through He Jia’s palm.

"Pfft!"

He Jia let out a pained scream as his palm was punctured, the Ice Corpse Cold Qi within him dispersing through the wound. His face instantly regained its sickly pallor.

The Ice Corpse Cold Qi had been shattered by the Annihilation Sword Wave.

He Jia was utterly shocked. How can there be such overwhelming sword intent? Has Ning Xiaochuan also cultivated the Supreme Sword Dao?

Ning Xiaochuan gave him no time to recover. With a flick of his sleeve, he hurled the Heavenly Thunder Bell at He Jia.

The bell cracked apart, releasing a deafening sonic wave.

"BOOM!"

The thunderous roar shook the heavens and earth, like a divine hammer striking an iron mountain. The force of it made the hearts of many warriors present feel as though they would leap from their chests.

"Pfft!"

Blood sprayed from He Jia’s mouth, his ears bleeding as well. His robes disintegrated into tatters, his skin charred black, and black smoke billowed from his nostrils. He collapsed to the ground, unable to rise again.

Ning Xiaochuan emerged from the swirling dust, not even sparing He Jia a glance. Instead, his gaze locked onto Ming Yang outside the arena.

Ming Yang’s lips twitched slightly. "Not bad swordplay."

Ning Xiaochuan’s earlier Annihilation Sword Wave had drained all the Heaven and Earth Profound Qi from the arena, unleashing a devastating strike that shattered He Jia’s Ice Corpse Cold Qi.

The power displayed in that single attack not only stunned the current batch of students but also left even the senior students awestruck. Many now regarded Ning Xiaochuan in a new light, with several factions eager to recruit him into their alliances.

"No wonder Ning Xiaochuan dares to stand unafraid against Ming Yang. He’s already mastered a sword path capable of rivaling the Supreme Sword Dao. This year’s freshmen truly have produced some extraordinary talents," remarked one of the senior students in admiration.

"Hard to say. There’s still a gap in cultivation realms between Ning Xiaochuan and Ming Yang. That’s not so easily overcome," another countered.

"I just wonder if Ning Xiaochuan will surrender voluntarily when he fights Ming Yang."

"Ning Xiaochuan would never surrender. Every genius has an unyielding pride that drives them forward. If he were cowardly, he wouldn’t have reached this level at just sixteen years old."

"Exactly, Ning Xiaochuan is only sixteen, while Ming Yang is already eighteen. The younger one is, the more obvious the advantage of age becomes. Ning Xiaochuan has cultivated for ten years, Ming Yang for twelve—it’s only natural that Ning Xiaochuan’s cultivation isn’t as advanced as Ming Yang’s."

"Given Ning Xiaochuan’s cultivation speed, he might surpass Ming Yang within three years. His talent should even be a notch above Ming Yang’s."

These people had no idea that Ning Xiaochuan had only been cultivating for a little over four months, yet his strength had already caught up to the so-called peerless geniuses who had trained for over a decade.

If they knew the truth, many would undoubtedly call him a monster.

The third match was between Princess Lanfei and Yin Sanyue.

After consuming dozens of drops of Martial Venerable's Blood, Princess Lanfei’s cultivation surged dramatically. With overwhelming martial prowess, she defeated Yin Sanyue and advanced to the next round.

The fourth match pitted Xie Mengyao against Hu Han Yeli.

Hu Han Yeli emerged victorious, securing his place as an advanced competitor.

However, Xie Mengyao remained unharmed. After exchanging three moves with Hu Han Yeli, she voluntarily retreated from the arena, choosing not to continue the fight.

Ning Xiaochuan had always found Xie Mengyao mysterious and strangely familiar, yet he was certain he had never met her before. It was a peculiar feeling.

The fifth match began—Ming Yang versus Nan Shuiyi.

Ming Yang, of course, needed no introduction. He had long been the predetermined champion of this competition.

Nan Shuiyi, on the other hand, was far more low-key. Rumor had it he hailed from a lower-tier civilization—a Third-Grade Kingdom known as the Thousand Water Kingdom.

On the Tianxu Continent, civilizations were ranked based on their level of development, national strength, population, and territorial size:

Tribes were considered First-Grade Civilizations.

Federations were Second-Grade Civilizations.

Kingdoms were Third-Grade Civilizations.

Dynasties were Fourth-Grade Civilizations.

Empires were Fifth-Grade Civilizations.

The tribes of the Southern Wastelands had the lowest level of civilization and the weakest power, hence their classification as First-Grade Civilizations.

The Yulan Empire, for example, belonged to the "Fifth-Grade Civilization," representing a highly advanced and immensely powerful nation.

The disparity in strength between each civilization rank was vast. For instance, the Jian Pavilion Marquis House of the Yulan Empire—merely a marquis’s estate—could conquer a Fourth-Grade Dynasty like the Tianji Dynasty, forcing the Tianji Queen to submit and become a vassal of the Yulan Empire.

Meanwhile, the Tianji Dynasty could effortlessly annihilate a Third-Grade Kingdom.

A Third-Grade Kingdom could freely oppress a Second-Grade Federation’s ancient city.

And the people of a Second-Grade Federation could dispatch troops to massacre a tribe or enslave its women.

This was an extremely rigid hierarchy—civilization levels dictated status.

Take the currently flourishing Yulan Empire: it had twelve Fourth-Grade Dynasties, one hundred seventy-three Third-Grade Kingdoms, and eight hundred forty-five Second-Grade Federations under its rule. As for the tribes that obeyed the Yulan Empire’s commands, they were too numerous to count.

These dynasties, kingdoms, federations, and tribes must all obey the commands of the Yulan Empire.

The emperors of those Fourth-Grade Dynasties are akin to the princes and marquises of the Yulan Empire, obliged to offer treasures, Mystic Stones, and beauties to the empire’s nobility every year.

Thus, martial artists from low-civilization nations hold little status in the Imperial City of the Yulan Empire.

Nan Shuiyi hailed from such a low-civilization nation, so his lack of renown was hardly surprising.

Nan Shuiyi slowly walked into the martial arena, showing no retreat despite facing Ming Yang as his opponent. There was not a trace of fear in his eyes.

"Don’t underestimate Nan Shuiyi. In his previous battles, he defeated his opponents with a single punch. No one has ever forced him to reveal his true strength."

"I’ve also watched Nan Shuiyi’s last three fights. He’s truly an unfathomable expert—his cultivation might even surpass Yu Tiadi and Ning Xiaochuan."

Ning Xiaochuan’s gaze was also drawn to Nan Shuiyi. He focused his spiritual sense, attempting to discern the depth of this man’s cultivation.

Ning Xin'er stood beside Ning Xiaochuan, holding a sword in her arms. "Brother, is Nan Shuiyi really that strong?"

Ning Xiaochuan replied, "His cultivation has reached the Sixth Level of the Divine Body Realm. Among this year’s students, aside from Ming Yang, his strength is the highest."

After using his spiritual sense to see through Nan Shuiyi’s cultivation, Ning Xiaochuan was startled.

This year’s batch of students truly hid dragons and crouching tigers.

A pleased expression appeared on Yu Qianqian’s face. "Nan Shuiyi might become Ming Yang’s greatest rival—perhaps even defeat him."

Ning Xiaochuan asked curiously, "Do you know Nan Shuiyi?"

"No," Yu Qianqian shook her head. "But a few days ago, a martial arts master from the Western Cold Grasslands visited the Golden Roc Prince’s Manor to pay respects to my father. At the time, he claimed he had brought his disciple to enroll in the Emperor’s Martial Palace. The Thousand Water Kingdom is located in the Western Cold Grasslands, and the only one capable of nurturing a disciple as outstanding as Nan Shuiyi in that region would be that very martial arts master."

"If Nan Shuiyi truly is that master’s disciple, he might possess the strength to defeat Ming Yang."

Anyone whom Yu Qianqian referred to as a martial arts master was certainly no ordinary figure. Ning Xiaochuan’s expectations for Nan Shuiyi grew.

Nan Shuiyi and Ming Yang stood in the martial arena, silently observing one another without exchanging a single word.

"Boom!"

The heavy sword on Ming Yang’s back emitted a metallic hum as seven Sword Qi Shadows surged from the blade.

"Boom!"

A massive phantom of a Vermilion Bird materialized behind Nan Shuiyi, its entire body wreathed in flames, its gaze sharp, and its claws covered in scales. The heat it radiance turned half the arena red.

The aura erupting from Nan Shuiyi’s body was actually no weaker than Ming Yang’s.

Ming Yang gave a slight nod. "Not bad."

"Fight me! Let me test just how strong the Supreme Sword Dao truly is!" Nan Shuiyi’s pupils blazed with fire, as if he had transformed into a deity of the Vermilion Bird.

Ming Yang drew the sword from his back, gripping the hilt with one hand, his entire being seeming to merge with the blade.

"Swish!"

A sword slash flashed out.

Before the martial artists outside the arena could react, Ming Yang had already sheathed his sword.

"Bang!"

The Vermilion Bird phantom let out a mournful cry as a blood streak appeared from Nan Shuiyi's head down to his heel. His body collapsed heavily to the ground, his life force completely shattered by the Supreme Sword Dao.

A peerless genius had fallen beneath Ming Yang's sword.

With just a single strike.

Ming Yang had forged a myth, a legend among the younger generation—when his sword was drawn, death was certain. No one could force him to use a second strike, for he was the myth itself.

The entire martial arena fell into silence before erupting in awe.

Ming Yang was simply too powerful, invincible to the point where even the senior students from the second year exchanged uneasy glances, realizing they too would likely perish if faced with his blade.

All eyes were fixed on Ming Yang, yet his gaze remained locked onto Ning Xiaochuan—the only person who had ever managed to injure him since childhood.

Ning Xiaochuan stared back, their eyes meeting in silent confrontation.