Chapter 337: The First Cut of Fumo

He actually repelled Wan Zhuliu!

At one corner of the Bronze Tower, the white-robed woman watching clenched her pupils, her heart surging with tidal waves.

She had held some expectations for Li Yuan; otherwise, she would not have transmitted to him the Long Mo Secret Transmission: "Tianyi Nine Refinements." But in her estimation, he would need at least two more years of cultivation before he could match Wan Zhuliu on equal footing.

This scene before her eyes vastly exceeded her expectations.

"This kid…"

"Roar!"

Lei Long roared; Li Daoye felt his blood boil—he rarely fought with such utter abandon. His heavy hammer had fully transformed into Lei Long, sweeping through the battlefield with unstoppable force.

It completely overwhelmed the tidal darkness.

Fierce!

Fierce beyond measure!

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As a continuous barrage of piercing metallic clashes echoed.

Li Yuan had begun his training with the Bai Yuan Cloak Hammer; even now, traces of that martial art lingered in his hammer technique—each strike swift as a gale, unceasing and relentless.

"Too hard!"

After fifty or sixty consecutive strikes, the recoil made Li Yuan's true qi body nearly unable to bear it.

Under Li Yuan's hammer blows, Wan Zhuliu swayed like straw in a hurricane, unable to stabilize his stance—but his blade art had reached divine mastery; even with far less strength, he still precisely blocked every single hammer strike.

"His blade art must be the Fumo Dao?"

And that black dragon…

With the power of the Binglu blessing, Li Yuan had shattered the blade-light several times—yet each time, the black dragon intercepted it, preventing complete victory.

Two hundred cuts. Two hundred thirty cuts.

In an instant, Li Yuan unleashed a hundred hammer strikes, pushing his tally to three hundred.

"Three hundred!"

Hearing the piercing clangs, the white-robed woman's expression turned grave; she swiftly retreated to a distant corner.

"Hm?"

Almost as he blocked the three hundredth strike, Li Yuan felt a chill pierce his heart. He did not look toward the black dragon in the darkness—but before his eyes, the crimson dragon eyes suddenly flashed into view.

Then, he heard the blade's song.

Faint as a breeze, yet colder than the harshest winter.

"Fumo First Cut!"

The white-robed woman's gaze seemed pierced by the blade's light.

Hss!

In the next instant, Li Yuan felt his grip grow light—the heavy hammer silently snapped in two. He instantly retreated, and Lei Long rushed back to guard him.

Yet, in the next moment, he froze in place.

An invisible blade-light swept past, like wind brushing by.

No ripples—but wherever it passed, whether the storm of hammer shadows, the true qi, or even Lei Long—

All were cleaved in two!

In the white-robed woman's eyes, the air currents, the void, even the light within the Bronze Tower, were all severed in two!

Hum!

A faint, almost imperceptible blade-song trembled.

The aura swirling around the blade's master faded; in a fleeting glimpse, Li Yuan saw the true face of the Zhenwu Prince.

Tall and broad-armed, silver-haired, clad in black robes, his eyes narrow and elongated, a black dragon tattoo on his brow—he now stood with hands stacked, blade hanging at his side.

The blade itself resembled a dragon, six feet long; its gleaming surface occasionally revealed intricate, complex patterns.

"Divine-grade blade art!"

In the room, Li Yuan jolted awake, cold sweat pouring down—he could not shake the memory of that blade's trace; it lingered in his vision as if chasing him out from the divine realm.

"Is this a Tongmai martial artist?!"

Wiping his sweat, Li Daoye's mind buzzed—he kept reliving that final, despairing cut.

The Fumo Dragon Spirit, hidden in darkness after three hundred cuts, vanished instantly, transforming into a dragon-blade—this single strike decided victory.

"Within the Bronze Tower, divine weapons cannot be used. To block this cut is nearly impossible—but perhaps a mutual destruction might be attempted?"

Sitting cross-legged, Li Yuan reviewed the battle in his mind.

With the six weapons, including Lei Long Jun Tian Hammer, enhancing his strength, he surpassed Wan Zhuliu—even if his martial skills were slightly inferior and his agility lacking, the gap was still bridged.

When he repelled Wan Zhuliu, he had estimated a sixty percent chance of victory—but he lost to that final cut.

"That must be Wan Zhuliu's world-famous Fumo Dao—combining Yi Xing Composition into a single incinerating strike. This blade art is truly formidable."

Shaking his body, he dislodged the sweat. Li Yuan knew his Xuanjing Diagram could not overcome that divine cut, clearly derived from Yi Xing Composition.

"If mutual destruction is the goal, it might still work!"

He had lost this battle—but his confidence in drawing his own blade had risen to seventy percent.

Wan Zhuliu had unleashed his hidden final cut—but Li Yuan had yet to use his own trump card: the Liehai Xuanjing Hammer.

"Huh!"

The heavy stone lifted from his heart; Li Yuan no longer felt the sting of defeat. He lay back, closed his eyes, and re-entered the Bronze Tower's divine realm.

After achieving a hundred forms, offense and defense had reversed.

Not just against Wan Zhuliu—but also against the Bronze Tower's master.

"A master of at least Master-level stature—his wealth must be considerable."

"Just one cut away. Just one cut away!"

In the Bronze Tower's divine realm, gales howled, the sky darkened. The white-robed woman could no longer suppress her turbulent emotions; her fists clenched tightly.

Li Yuan's sudden surge had completely surpassed her expectations—and brought her immense joy.

"Fumo Dao requires a spiritual form as its foundation. Even with Wan Zhuliu's unparalleled talent, before entering the Dao, he could only unleash the First Cut!"

The white-robed woman longed to calm her heart—but hope was right before her, and she could not suppress it. She forcibly shifted her thoughts:

"A divine blade art based on a spiritual form—within the Tongmai realm, there is virtually no way to break it."

To block it? Impossible. To counter it? Nearly hopeless.

But if mutual destruction were the goal, the chance might be high.

"This kid possesses peerless agility—likely taught by Long Xi. His peerless agility is perfected, and he also has the Long Chan Golden Body Scripture…"

"To block this cut may be insufficient—but for mutual destruction…"

The white-robed woman murmured to herself, pondering for a long while, then dredged up a sinister martial art from her memory.

This art was deeply sinister, of very high rank, and designed entirely for mutual destruction.

"Hmm."

Having made her decision, she sensed Li Yuan's approach. Before she could decide how to speak, he spoke first:

"Senior, won't you reveal yourself?"

"?"

The white-robed woman frowned slightly. What did this kid mean?

"I've fought hundreds of battles for you, drawing my blade in bloodshed—yet you still refuse to show yourself?"

Seeing no response, Li Yuan raised his voice and sighed deeply.

When first pulled into this Bronze Tower divine realm, he could barely block a few cuts, and he held deep reverence for such a master—under the eaves, one must bow.

But now, knowing Long Daozhu was secretly watching him, and having demonstrated the strength to draw his blade, the conditions naturally needed renegotiation.

"Next."

On the stone tablet, the familiar characters appeared. Li Yuan glanced once and immediately exited the divine realm.

"?!"

The white-robed woman finally snapped back to awareness, realizing what this kid intended—she nearly laughed in outrage:

"This kid thinks he can manipulate the Mistress of this Tower?"

Exiting the divine realm, Li Yuan was in high spirits; he ruffled the sleeping cub, who had swallowed a Soul-Stilling Minor Restoration Pill and fallen straight into slumber.

He ignored the undulating fluctuations emanating from the bronze tower's divine realm.

Soon, he was fast asleep.

"Huh?!"

The cub opened its eyes in fury, sharply gesturing with its tiny sharp claws, nearly exploding with rage.

Since inheriting the ancestral legacy and shattering the Heavenly Gang to become a Grand Master, where had she ever endured such indignity?!

Not even before this had she ever suffered it!

"Audacious! Utterly audacious!"

The cub's fur bristled with rage; it paced back and forth around Li Yuan, itching to swipe at him—but held itself back.

"I… I'll endure it."

Beneath the moonlight streaming through the windows, its tiny claws glinted coldly—yet she decided to hold off for now.

"Once my wounds heal."

The cub gritted her teeth inwardly, deciding she could bide her time—she'd settle old and new accounts together later.

She glanced at the fat field mouse just waking in the corner; the creature, still half-asleep, met her gaze and let out a terrified squeal, darting instantly into its burrow.

The cub was speechless.

Under the moonlight, she paced back and forth. Though this brat's attempt to manipulate her angered her, her overall mood remained excellent.

Drawing her blade two years ahead of schedule filled her with genuine excitement; her thoughts spiraled, already plotting how she'd return to the imperial court to reclaim her honor.

And the traitors within her tower.

"After removing the blade wound—yes, I'll take this brat along. That fat mouse too; the Treasure-Seeking Mouse is a rare spiritual beast, might prove useful."

The cub weighed this in her mind; the simmering resentment faded considerably.

She'd never tolerate cultivating outsiders—but if they were her own capable subordinates, that was another matter entirely.

"Huh!"

With the gloom lifted, the cub glanced at Li Yuan's sleeping form and unconsciously ground her teeth.

Though this brat was slippery and somewhat malicious, such a prime corner to dig up—she'd absolutely take him with her.

Glancing at the distant Long Hu Tower outside the window, she yawned, then settled down, thoroughly satisfied.

Li Yuan slept deeply, not waking until the sun was high overhead the next day.

The Soul-Stilling Minor Restoration Pill's potency was inferior to spiritual elixirs, but at eight hundred taels per pill, the Little Pill King still held immense value—Li Yuan felt yesterday's fatigue vanish entirely, replaced by boundless vigor.

"Perfect!"

Li Yuan stretched, loosened his sinews and bones, then boiled a large pot of spiritual rice, ate his fill, and practiced several sets of staking drills.

Once he felt his spirit and strength both at peak, he stepped out the door and headed toward the opposite small temple.

"Huh? More visitors?"

As he pushed open the door, Li Yuan saw a crowd gathered outside the courtyard; his sharp eyes instantly spotted Shi Yushu, and he hurried over.

"Master Shi."

"Li Disciple."

Shi Yushu turned, seeing Li Yuan after several days' absence; his heart jolted—he sensed something amiss, yet couldn't pinpoint what.

"Li Disciple, has your martial skill improved further?"

"A minor breakthrough."

Li Yuan glanced at the people outside the temple—all carrying long swords, faces stern, strikingly similar to Pei Jiu: "Are these from the Rainbow Sword Sect?"

"Correct."

Shi Yushu nodded: "This morning, the Rainbow Sword Sect arrived. Their leader is Deputy Sect Master Xie Tongzhi—he ranks eleventh on the Hero List, a figure of the same generation as Master Long Hu."

He paused slightly, then whispered: "Rumors say years ago, he was severely wounded by Master Long Hu. His sudden visit likely holds ill intent."

"Xie Tongzhi?"

Li Yuan's mind shifted—he recalled the man.

The Rainbow Sword Sect had dominated Yunmeng Dao for over fifteen hundred years; though its lineage wasn't as ancient as Long Hu Temple, its strength was no lesser. Its Dao Master, Wei Tianzuo, ranked on the Divine List, famed far and wide.

Its two Deputy Sect Masters were both elite heroes on the Hero List; Xie Tongzhi was renowned across the martial world for his "Hundred-Step Flying Sword."

"Make way!"

Douyue Monk strode forward, glancing impatiently at the Rainbow Sword Sect disciples outside, then walked straight into the temple.

Li Yuan's heart stirred—he followed him inside.

Inside, there was none of the expected tension. Beneath the old tree, Long Xi Xiang was playing chess; his opponent, holding white stones, was an elderly man with white hair.

The old man was of average build, unadorned, his sword nowhere visible—he smiled as he spoke with Long Xi Xiang, clearly in good spirits.

"Brother Long, I yield!"

Xie Tongzhi placed his stone, his smile deepening: "I didn't realize Brother Long had such a poor memory—if I'd known, I'd have let you take a few stones."

Hearing this, Douyue Monk's expression darkened—but with Long Xi Xiang present, he said nothing.

"Brother Xie still holds some resentment."

Long Xi Xiang sighed lightly: "It was my fault back then—I was too young, struck too hard. Had I killed you outright then, you wouldn't have stewed in bitterness all these years."

"You?!"

Several Rainbow Sword Sect disciples nearby turned livid, silenced by a glare from Xie Tongzhi.

"Brother Long remains as merciless as ever—pity. Too rigid breaks easily…"

Xie Tongzhi cast one final long look at the master and his two disciples, then swept his sleeve and departed.

Long Xi Xiang's face was expressionless: "See the guest out!"