"Blazing Sword Cuts Down the Evil Phoenix!"
The Qinglian Sword trailed a stream of crimson fire several meters long.
The extreme sharpness of the blade, enhanced by searing flames and further amplified by Three Swords of Elegance—with this strike, Li Zhexian had already glimpsed the path to the White Jade Capital.
He swung the sword—
Straight into the storm of fire raining down from above.
There was no earth-shaking explosion.
Only a subtle, soul-piercing sound—
Shhhhk—
Like the sharpest, hottest blade slicing through thick, oil-soaked paper.
The blazing Qinglian Sword cut through the firestorm as if it were nothing.
Wherever the sword passed—
Pop—!
Pop—!
Pop—!
The fire droplets burst like fragile bubbles.
There wasn't even time to explode—each was silently erased the moment it touched the blade, consumed by the pure heat and edge of the sword.
Each streak of flame vanished into wisps of smoke, which were in turn devoured by the fiery glow wrapped around the blade.
The crimson swordlight didn't slow—
It soared into the sky, locking onto Ma Hongjun.
The fury and arrogance on Ma Hongjun's face froze—replaced, for the first time, by terror.
He furiously flapped his Phoenix Fire Wings, attempting to climb higher and escape.
But it was too late!
Li Zhexian's sword was faster than thought itself.
A flash of crimson light streaked past!
Pshhht—
A muffled yet distinct sound of something being pierced echoed throughout the silent Spirit Arena after the firestorm had been extinguished
One of Ma Hongjun's flaming wings—and half of his arm—was severed on the spot.
The shattered firewing burst into a thousand sparks, igniting the blood that splashed through the air.
"AAAAAAHHHHH!"
Ma Hongjun crashed onto the arena floor, clutching the stump of his severed arm with his remaining hand.
Smoke rose from the fresh wound. Veins bulged on his forehead as he screamed in agony.
But Li Zhexian's Sword of Blaze—
Even after cleaving Ma Hongjun down, still carried a terrifying residual power.
BOOM—!!
The Blazing Sword slammed heavily onto the stage, leaving a sword mark several feet deep and only an inch wide, its edges looking like molten glass
The sword mark started from Li Zhexian's feet, ripping and extending all the way to the edge of the stage, emitting faint wisps of smoke.
Though the blade hadn't touched the Spirit Power barrier—
The energy shockwave alone caused the barrier to groan under the strain.
The earlier cracks in its structure shattered like fragile glass, scattering in a rain of glittering fragments.
The blast of heat surged outward like a breached dam. The front rows of the audience were hit by a wave of scorching air, their skin stinging, hair curling from the heat.
Seats were blown away—chaos reigned.
After a brief uproar—
Everyone, from common audience to familiar faces in the VIP boxes, held their breath as they stared at the frozen scene on the arena stage:
The white-robed swordsman stood tall, blade in hand, as the fire on the Qinglian Sword slowly faded.
Ma Hongjun rolled on the ground, wailing, clutching his severed arm.
One strike.
And the outcome was sealed.
"Hongjun, surrender now!" Zhao Wuji's voice was a desperate, roaring cry from below the stage. If not for the Spirit Arena's Spirit Masters restraining him, he would have already rushed onto the platform.
Hearing Zhao Wuji's voice, Ma Hongjun's trembling, pale lips were about to speak.
Shhk—!
A sword qi suddenly swept past—
Severing his lips and teeth in one clean stroke.
The pain nearly made him black out.
The crowd was stunned by the bloody scene, their gazes locking onto the cold white-robed figure standing onstage.
"Huh?"
Dugu Bo furrowed his brow.
"What's that brat up to now?"
Dugu Yan blurted anxiously:
"Grandfather! That fat chicken has a teacher with him—you have to protect Zhexian-ge!"
Dugu Bo nodded.
"Don't worry."
—
In the Ye Clan's suite, Lady Ye had already signaled her aides to keep a close eye on the stage.
In the royal suite, Spear Douluo had vanished at some point.
—
Onstage—
Ma Hongjun's right arm was severed at the shoulder. Blood soaked half his body. His face was a mangled mess of flesh, exposing half his jawbone.
His body convulsed from the pain.
He wanted to surrender—but all he could produce were muffled whimpers.
Amid countless shocked and terrified gazes—
Li Zhexian walked toward him.
"You vicious brat!"
"Don't you dare!"
Below the stage—
Zhao Wuji finally lost control.
He threw Qin Ming off him with one arm.
A thunderous roar erupted as the Spirit Power of a Level 76 Spirit Sage surged—
Sending the Arena's Spirit Masters flying as he prepared to leap onto the stage.
Swish! Swish!
Several figures instantly appeared—
Blocking his path.
"Let the juniors settle this. Stay out of it."
"Get the hell out of my way!"
Zhao Wuji roared, throwing a punch—
But even then, he was only able to match one of them in strength, and the recoil sent him stumbling backward.
From the shadows, Dugu Bo and Snake Lance Douluo quietly withdrew their Spirit Power.
"You…"
Zhao Wuji looked up at the white-robed youth on stage.
His bloodshot eyes blazed.
"Kid!"
"If you lay another finger on Ma Hongjun—I swear, I'll make your life a living hell!"
But—
Li Zhexian didn't even glance at him.
Nor did he react to the deafening cheers from the crowd.
Under countless frenzied, worshipful eyes, he approached Ma Hongjun—
And gazed down at the blood-soaked figure writhing at his feet.
Ma Hongjun's eyes were filled with nothing but fear.
Dragging his broken body, he tried to crawl away from the executioner looming over him.
"A beast like you—tainted by Evil Fire…"
"Only a fate worse than death can atone for the things you've done."
The girls Ma Hongjun had used to vent his Evil Fire…
They had all been innocent civilians.
According to Yu Xiaogang and Flender, they were willing partners, even lovers.
But—
In a world ruled by strength…
How could a powerless commoner ever truly "consent" to a Spirit Master?
What choices did they really have?
Ma Hongjun bore the Evil Fire Phoenix Martial Soul—a top-tier beast Martial Soul.
How could untrained civilian girls possibly withstand his cruelty?
Reality was far more brutal than the original novel. The fate and outcome of those girls were self-evident.
"This originally had nothing to do with me."
"But since you've provoked me, then I must intervene."
"I only seek to be worthy of my sword, my heart, and my conscience."
Li Zhexian pressed his fingers together in a sword seal.
A cold, murderous sword qi swept out—
And slashed directly toward Ma Hongjun's lower body.
"A debt from the root of evil must be repaid by the root of evil."
"Since you cannot control the root of your Evil Fire, today, it will be severed."
"AAAAAAAHHHHH—!!"
Ma Hongjun's neck arched as he screamed.
Veins bulged like worms across his neck, and his eyes burst with bloodshot lines like a web.
"Hongjun!!"
"You little bastard, I'll kill you!!"
Zhao Wuji roared, trying to charge again—but Ye Clan guards stopped him in his tracks.
Li Zhexian didn't spare him a glance.
Nor did he react to the thunderous roar of the crowd.
He simply turned away—
And walked off the stage.
One step at a time.
As he passed through the backstage corridor—
He paused for a moment, his gaze flicking to a shadowed corner.
There, a hunched figure in a green robe, trembling with excitement, was furiously writing something on a wooden board with a charcoal pencil.
Clink—
A gold coin whistled through the air and landed neatly in his collar.
"You'd better praise me well tomorrow."
The storyteller's head snapped up—
But all he saw was a white back disappearing down the corridor.
"Today's grand event will surely be spread all over Heaven Dou tomorrow!"
The storyteller clutched the coin and the record board—
And vanished swiftly into the crowd.