Chapter 374

Forcing someone who has never cultivated Dao arts, only body refinement, to duel an Elder of an immortal sect in finger technique is inherently an unjust debate of the Dao.

This is the immortal sect’s coercion, a suppression of those who dare to defy.

But Ji You had no choice but to accept—he stepped willingly into it.

The crowd speculated that Ji You might have secretly learned finger techniques, or perhaps had a sliver of hope; they also guessed he might break the rules, impulsively drawing his sword to kill.

Yet from start to finish, none had foreseen this scene.

No magic arts. No spiritual energy.

He simply closed the distance until he stood right before Huo Ku’s face.

Then, with sheer physical might and strength, he killed with two fingers!

This was his finger technique—arrogant, brutal, unlike anything known, yet impossible to call a violation.

If condensing finger aura counts as finger technique debate, then why can’t pure two-finger assault count too?

“What you wanted—finger technique.”

“...”

In the debate arena, Ji You stood at a forty-five-degree angle, his gaze contemptuous as he stared at the lifeless Huo Ku, twin fingers dripping blood steadily downward.

The once-boisterous enlightenment arena had suddenly fallen silent, every breath audible.

The weight of those breaths felt as if they themselves had just fought a martial duel.

But this silent stillness lasted only an instant—then countless figures rose from their seats, shock exploding across every face.

Countless eyes locked onto Ji You, on his blood-dripping fingers, as cries erupted like a tidal wave.

He didn’t care at all!

From the start of this debate until now, he never cared how he’d face an opponent he couldn’t match in finger technique!

He simply advanced with unshakable confidence, then killed a Great Cultivator of the Boundless Initial Realm with two fingers.

The immortal sect’s punishment and suppression had failed—instead, they drew Ji You’s fiercest, purest defiance.

It was revenge for his friend’s capture, his first open display of rage.

Merely that aura—“Do your worst, I’ll charge straight through”—was enough to leave every immortal in the arena dazed.

On the Observation Platform, Fang Jincheng stared at Ji You’s murderous expression, his face pale with terror.

Other noble house disciples were plunged into speechless shock.

Ji You’s sword art was so strong it often obscured his physical prowess, for his fame had always come from sword art alone.

Only now, seeing his two fingers shatter Huo Ku’s protective technique and kill him outright, did they finally understand the true extent of his physical strength.

On the northern observation terrace, He Lingxiu, Yu Shiliu, Zhao Yunyue, and other female cultivators were all stunned into daze.

“This...”

“All magical arts under heaven are powerless against raw strength.”

In the hall of the northern observation tower, Qin Rong kept replaying Ji You’s two-finger kill in his mind; before he could form a comment, a voice sounded.

He turned to see Master Chai Hu, head of Changsheng Hall, also gazing outward, his aura boiling uncontrollably.

He cultivated the Path of Strength, always insisting that all magical arts under heaven are powerless against raw strength.

But cultivation has always been “you say you’re right, I say I’m right”—hardly anyone’s Dao ever became universal consensus.

Today’s debate by Ji You had proven his Dao, triggering an involuntary resonance within him, leaving Chai Hu’s gaze deeply complex.

Yet this commotion and shock was abruptly cut short by the sound of a door opening, drawing countless eyes toward the southern observation tower.

At that moment, disciples of the Wenda Sect emerged from the hall, all faces grim as they stared at Huo Ku’s corpse.

Especially the direct disciple and Sacred Prince, Shang Xiyao, his narrowed eyes brimming with boundless malice.

The Wenda Sect had awakened.

This debate was meant to suppress Ji You—to make him fear divine authority, to make him submit.

But now their man was dead, suppression had backfired, and as the Wenda Sect, rulers of a realm, how could they not rage?

The murmurs died instantly; all eyes turned to the Wenda Sect.

“Ji You, how dare you!”

“Did I break any rule?” Ji You looked up.

Deputy Patriarch Shang Xingkong’s face hardened: “Debate should end at a draw—why did you kill?”

Before his words fully faded, the northern observation tower’s hall burst open behind Ji You.

Zuo Qiuyang and Chai Hu stepped out, followed by several Elders’ Council elders, facing the Wenda Sect, their auras no longer restrained.

This was a message.

They stood behind Ji You, signaling they would not stand idle.

Yet the Tian Shu Academy’s appearance did not quell Wenda’s fury—it triggered two more halls to open.

The deputy patriarch of the Chen Clan, accompanied by divine powerhouses, appeared; the deputy head of Shanhai Pavilion and his disciples emerged on the other side.

Thick auras surged like a dam breaking; though no one moved, an air explosion erupted instantly at the center of the enlightenment arena.

The sight of three sects united against Tian Shu Academy turned every cultivator in the Immortal Garden pale.

“Damn it!”

“That Ji You is damned!”

Fang Xiang, head of the Fang Clan, twisted into a furious, snarling mask: “He thinks he won? He thinks he’s triumphant, invincible? No—he’s only stoked even greater rage in the immortal sects!”

Hearing Fang Xiang, the He, Zuo, Qiu, and other noble houses all frowned.

True, Ji You killed Huo Ku with two fingers—it felt like venting fury, like triumph.

But in truth, he’d have been better off losing.

Had he lost, he might have calmed the sects’ rage stirred by his defiance.

Then, dragging his wounded body, he could have visited Wenda Sect, Shanhai Pavilion, and the Chen Clan to beg forgiveness, surrender the Immortal Spirit, and end it all.

But he won—won cleanly, humiliatingly, leaving Wenda Sect with no face.

This kind of victory is meaningless—it only makes the immortal sects lose all restraint.

As expected, the immortal sects’ killing intent had arrived.

And not just one—three.

This was Shengjing, before the Tian Shu Academy’s Nishan training ground.

To them, Tian Shu Academy always valued its prestige; Ji You assumed Tian Shu would never play the coward, so he dragged it into this.

All these families were vassals of Tian Shu, thriving because of it—they must stand with it.

In other words, they now faced the killing intent of three immortal sects together.

But how to win?

How?!

One plus one equals two—how much more so one plus two?

One misstep, and they’d be destroyed because of a backwater private cultivator they’d always despised!

His own death was fine—but how could he drag so many down with him?

“Ji You!”

“?”

Ji You turned to see Fang Xiang roaring at him.

“As a Tian Shu Academy disciple, you’re protected by the Academy—now, before this arena, the two Hall Masters won’t let you die. But how can you selfishly provoke the immortal sects into conflict?!”

He Ye, seeing this, couldn’t help speaking: “As a Tian Shu disciple, you must consider your sect.”

The chorus from all sides stirred murmurs among other noble houses—they thought these two were truly shrewd elders, speaking at the perfect moment.

This gave Tian Shu a way out and stalled the rising hostility.

If Ji You would only drop his stubbornness, bow, and apologize, the tense standoff could dissolve without violence.

But what they didn’t know was why that thing couldn’t be taken by the immortal sects—in other words, they didn’t understand Ji You’s reason for refusing to surrender it.

Yet Ji You said nothing. Made no move.

This infuriated the noble houses clinging to Tian Shu—shouts erupted instantly across the enlightenment arena.

“Still obstinate?!”

“You’re utterly reckless! If we’d known this day would come, Tian Shu should’ve disciplined you harshly from the start!”

“Backwater private cultivator—you still don’t understand what true strategy means!”

“You think Tian Shu’s protection lets you walk away? This only drags Tian Shu into peril—you’ll still die!”

Zhao Yunyue and others watched tensely, hearts in their throats.

When she’d sent her marriage proposal and been refused, she’d said: this man’s character is terrible, he overestimates himself—he’ll bring disaster.

But she never imagined he’d bring such a catastrophe.

Yet at that moment, Zhao Yunyue’s gaze caught a flash of crimson, proud, and towering.

The western hall, long closed, now opened—Little Inspector of Lingjian Mountain, clad in immortal robes, walked toward her, eyes icy as a blizzard.

Zhao Yunyue’s eyes widened slightly, then lit with relief.

She’d asked Liu Junchi yesterday to relay a message—he’d promised to send word again, saying the Little Inspector often visited the observation tower, making an audience more likely.

She thought Liu’s arrangement had worked—but why now, of all times, with tensions this high?

Still, opportunity was rare—she hesitated only a moment before clasping her hands.

But to her surprise, the Little Inspector of Lingjian Mountain didn’t stop before her—he kept walking.

Following her gaze, Zhao Yunyue froze.

Because she realized the Master of the Mirror was watching Ji You, or rather, she had been watching Ji You ever since she walked in.

This was no illusion, for on the Dao Discourse Ground, apart from the dead Huo Ku, only Ji You remained.

She could not possibly be looking at anyone else—she was definitely looking at Ji You.

Seeing this, not only she but also Yu Shiliu, Wang Gaocen, and other Lingjian Mountain disciples were momentarily dazed, bewildered.