Chapter 129

The man adorned with jewels and gold said nothing but raised one hand, and the talisman in his grasp transformed into a series of fireballs, ice spikes, and wind blades that shot forth in rapid succession.

The raggedly dressed man merely formed a hand seal, muttered incantations, and immediately a thunderous rumbling erupted before him; yellow light flashed across the ground as a thick wall of earth surged upward.

The spells struck the earth wall, exploding in bursts of color and instantly shattering it into rubble—but when the dust cleared, the raggedly dressed man had vanished from where he stood.

Seeing this, the silver-robed man snorted, flipped his hand, and suddenly another green talisman appeared in his grip; he hurled it high into the air, where it burst into a burst of green light, sending ripples of magical energy sweeping across the entire training ground.

A soft “puff.”

Suddenly, a figure materialized several zhang away from the jewel-adorned man.

Now, the raggedly dressed man gripped a bronze mirror tightly in both hands, frantically pouring magical energy into it; its surface glowed with blinding white light.

“Trouble.”

The jewel-adorned man gasped in alarm, swiftly raising his silver shield before him; seven faint golden spirit runes surfaced on its surface, followed by a golden curtain of light that unfurled to block his front.

“Boom.”

A white beam, as thick as a bowl’s mouth, shot forth from the bronze mirror, vanished in an instant, and struck the golden curtain dead center.

The golden curtain held only for a moment before shattering like glass; the white beam struck the silver shield directly.

The jewel-adorned man felt his shield tremble violently, as a colossal force slammed into him.

A swift “whoosh.”

The man, shield and all, was blasted backward by the white beam, crashing hard against the translucent barrier behind him; though his shield still barely held against the assault, he was pinned motionless under the unrelenting pressure of the white beam.

“I yield.”

After struggling futilely, the jewel-adorned man reluctantly surrendered.

Hearing this, the raggedly dressed man chuckled, retracted the bronze mirror, and the white beam dissipated into nothing.

Only then did the jewel-adorned man, face dark with humiliation, land back on the ground.

“Number four wins.”

The Confucian scholar above immediately announced it.

…

“What kind of artifact is that? Even a shield specifically designed for defense couldn’t withstand its attack? Husband, you’re an expert in artifact forging—can you tell where that artifact came from?” On the stone platform, Yin Linglong exclaimed in surprise.

“If I’m not mistaken, that artifact is inscribed with the Nine-Spirit Rune of Golden Light, specifically designed to pierce all defensive spells; ordinary artifacts simply can’t resist it,” Wang Yu said slowly, recognizing the technique etched onto the mirror at a glance.

“So that’s it. If you faced this artifact, could you counter it?” Yin Linglong smiled sweetly and asked.

“Heh, why would I need to counter it? He won’t get the chance to use it,” Wang Yu replied with a faint smile.

Under his hyper-mode super-sensory perception, how could this man possibly get close enough to hide?

Thus, pairs of Qi Condensation warriors representing their respective families took turns battling; some ended in an instant, others were evenly matched and fought fiercely until one side exhausted their magical energy and lost.

“Number thirteen, number fourteen.”

The Confucian scholar called out Gu Lian’s number.

“Brother Yu, wait a moment—I’ll be right back,” Gu Lian bowed to the Yu clan patriarch, then calmly levitated into the air and flew off the stone platform.

Wang Yu’s gaze, however, turned to the graceful figure flying from another stone platform toward the training ground; a flicker of surprise crossed his face.

“Are you a disciple of the Sunset Sect?” The blue-robed woman glanced at the red sun emblem on Gu Lian’s chest and raised an eyebrow.

She was the same blue-robed inner-disciple woman Wang Yu had seen shortly after returning from the Blue Star world, accompanying Master Gu.

“I am Gu Lian of the Sunset Sect. May I ask your name, fellow cultivator?” Gu Lian studied her for a moment, then smiled and asked.

“I’m Li Tianqi. Gu Lian… that name sounds familiar,” the blue-robed woman replied, then frowned slightly in thought.

“Heh, perhaps my name is common. Please, Lady Li,” Gu Lian chuckled, gesturing with empty hands for her to strike first.

Li Tianqi, angered, pushed aside her doubt and slapped a leather pouch at her waist; a small, winged snake, about a chi long and entirely emerald green, flew out and circled above her head.

Simultaneously, she flipped her hand, and a crimson feather fan appeared in her grasp.

“Feathered Snake! Such a wind-elemental beast is rare indeed,” Gu Lian said, surprised at the winged serpent.

But Li Tianqi had already formed another hand seal, murmured incantations, and suddenly opened her mouth to spit out a thin thread of flame, while simultaneously swinging the feather fan with full force.

“Whoosh.”

A vast wave of crimson light surged from the fan; the moment it touched the thin flame, it erupted into roaring flames that rolled toward her opponent.

“Heh, interesting. It seems Lady Li possesses a special bloodline that enhances fire cultivation,” Gu Lian seemed to have deduced something; facing the roaring wall of fire, he smiled faintly, neither dodging nor retreating.

The next instant, the flames surged downward, forming a rolling wall of fire—but a figure walked calmly through it, as if strolling through a quiet garden.

The blue-robed woman could hardly believe her eyes; enraged, she let out a sharp cry, and the emerald snake above her instantly lifted its head, spread its wings wide.

“Whirr,” a gust of wind burst from its wings, transforming into a blinding white storm.

At the same time, the woman swung her crimson fan several times more, pouring out even more crimson light, which became waves of red flame.

Merged together, wind and flame became a violent storm of fire that shot skyward, then, blocked by the aerial barrier, collapsed into a vast, dark-red cloud of fire that rolled down toward Gu Lian’s position.

The temperature in the training ground became like a furnace of flame; the entire arena turned crimson, and some stones on the ground began to melt and soften.

The floating Confucian scholar frowned, tapped a finger downward at the barrier, and immediately the surrounding banners hummed louder, reinforcing the translucent shield further.

This is the power of wind and fire fused—no wonder that elder in the Scripture Hall once advised me to pursue the path of wind-fire integration.

Wang Yu, watching from afar, was deeply awed, his mind racing with thoughts.

“This is the true strength of an inner-disciple of the Four Symbols Sect! Such an attack—how could any Qi Condensation cultivator possibly withstand it?” Yin Linglong stared, eyes wide, murmuring beside him.

“Hmm, it’s certainly hard to block directly—but Gu Lian seems to have endured it,” Wang Yu said, his eyes glinting faintly as he watched the center of the firestorm, a strange expression on his face.