Wind Sword…
The moment the old man spoke his name, everyone present was struck dumb.
Wind Sword Douluo?
Since when had there been a Wind Sword Douluo in this world?
All eyes fell upon the old man wreathed in azure currents of wind intent, standing calmly before Li Zhexian. The people who had moments ago scrambled back in panic now swallowed hard.
The fourth one!
The fourth Titled Douluo to step forth and shield Li Zhexian!
Four Titled Douluo standing together—
Even Spirit Hall would find this troublesome!
"Wind Sword…"
Chrysanthemum Douluo's figure flickered back to Ghost Douluo's side, his soft voice carrying rare astonishment as he scrutinized the old man with a black silk band wrapped across his eyes.
"Wind Sword Sect's Sect Master… Feng Bailong?"
You… you actually broke through?"
The Wind Sword Sect, one of the Lower Four Sects, was renowned across the continent.
Its Sect Master, Feng Bailong, had once declared boldly: 'Give me five hundred Wind Sword disciples, and this old man shall slay even a Titled Douluo.'
That boast had spread far among the circle of peak powerhouses—
though how many Titled Douluo had ever truly taken it seriously was another matter entirely.
Now four oppressive auras of Titled Douluo stretched across the square, locking the battlefield in deadlock.
Qian Renxue, Zhu Zhuqing, and the others quickly gathered protectively around Li Zhexian.
Yu Tianheng, unable to contain his shock, muttered in disbelief:
"The Sect Master of Wind Sword Sect has already broken through?!"
"Zhexian, you… you even know him?"
Li Zhexian nodded, then solemnly bowed deeply toward Dugu Bo, Yu Yuanzhen, Chen Xin, and Feng Bailong.
The youth's voice carried heartfelt gratitude, with a subtle tremor that pierced through the killing intent blanketing the square:
"This junior will never forget the grace of the four seniors protecting me today. Even unto death, it shall remain engraved upon my heart!"
The four each nodded slightly in return.
But the situation remained dire.
Dugu Bo and Yu Yuanzhen struggled bitterly beneath Bibi Dong's abyssal pressure.
Chen Xin's white-robed back remained as lofty and unyielding as an unbreakable wall, shielding Li Zhexian like an eternal barrier.
And Feng Bailong slowly raised his hand.
In his palm, a current of wind gathered, condensing into an old sword sealed within its sheath.
No edge, no killing aura.
"Ha…" Ghost Douluo's twisted shadow rippled as his eerie, mocking voice spread: "The Wind Sword Sect is known for its sword formations. Yet here you stand alone, Feng Bailong. You've only just stepped into the realm of Titled Douluo—yet you dare meddle in the affairs of Spirit Hall?"
"You have quite the courage! Also..." His voice suddenly turned fierce, carrying disdainful sarcasm.
"The title of 'Sword' is recognized as belonging solely to Chen Xin!
The name Wind Sword—do you really think you can bear it?"
Faced with such belittlement, Feng Bailong neither grew angry nor defensive.
His calm, aged voice carried instead a lofty, unyielding pride:
"If all the sword dao beneath heaven were one stone to be divided…
Sword Douluo, Chen Xin, would take six parts. This old man, lacking though I am, could perhaps claim two.
Young friend Zhexian, though still in youth, has already touched upon the true meaning of the sword—and so deserves at least one.
"The remainder may be scattered among the sword cultivators of the world."
As soon as these words were spoken, Chen Xin tilted his head, his gaze swept over Feng Bailong, and he nodded in praise, "Not bad."
Feng Bailong's "Sword Dao upon a single stone" had won the open acknowledgment of the continent's foremost sword.
From this moment forth, the name of Wind Sword Douluo stood unchallenged.
And Li Zhexian, at such a young age, was acknowledged by two peerless Titled Douluo of the sword—granted one share of the sword dao.
His monstrous talent left everyone present utterly shaken.
"Good! Good! Good!"
Among the Spirit Masters of Heaven Dou City, a scribe could barely hold his brush steady, trembling with fervor:
"From this day forward, the name of Lord Sword Wine shall resound across the continent!"
Relief settled in his heart like a heavy stone.
With four Titled Douluo protecting him, so what if it were Spirit Hall?
Lord Sword Wine would surely emerge unscathed!
Many others shared the same thought.
Ghost and Chrysanthemum Douluo exchanged a dark look. Their surging spirit power gradually drew back as they faced two unparalleled swords masters blocking the path.
Just as it seemed the deadlocked tension might settle into uneasy peace—
BOOM!
BOOM!
Upon the throne, sudden change erupted!
On Bibi Dong's peerless, beautiful face, strange purple patterns spread like wildfire.
Behind her, a colossal phantom of a hideous Spider Emperor, covered in fine purple hairs and towering higher than the grand cathedral itself, exploded into being.
Dozens of compound eyes gleamed with boundless, murderous light.
A pressure many times more terrifying than before erupted forth like a tangible tsunami.
The dim heavens were dyed into a bewitching shade of deep purple, like auroras pouring down from the sky.
Bibi Dong's cold and majestic voice reverberated through the clouds.
"Li Zhexian has slaughtered seventeen of Spirit Hall's deacons!"
"Seize him immediately!"
"Those who dare to obstruct…"
"Kill!"
The instant she uttered "Kill," her imperial grace was gone.
The pure-white cloak billowed madly in the storm.
The Spider Emperor phantom howled skyward, sending shockwaves rippling outward, its monstrous visage stained with evil might, shaking the heavens and earth.
Boom—! Boom—!
Ghost and Chrysanthemum Douluo no longer held back, their boundless Spirit Power erupting skyward as they lunged toward Chen Xin and Feng Bailong.
At the same time—
From the winding mountain road, figures surged forth like wolves and tigers.
Spirit Rings blazed. Auras boiled. Among them were even Spirit Sages and Spirit Douluo, Spirit Masters of terrifying caliber, charging with murderous intent toward the square.
The sudden change turned every face pale!
That faint glimmer of peace just now was instantly extinguished, drowned beneath a flood of killing intent.
Qian Renxue, Zhu Zhuqing, Dugu Yan, Ye Lingling, along with Li Zhexian's teammates Yu Tianheng, Feng Xiaotian, and others—without hesitation, their Spirit Rings lit up as they released a desperate, unyielding battle will.
"Fight our way out!"
"Protect Zhexian—fight our way out!"
The geniuses who had shone at the Spirit Master Tournament—
now instantly locked into formation with their teammates, hurling themselves against the onrushing wave of Spirit Hall forces.
"Cough!"
Bai Baoshan, suppressing the internal injuries he had sustained under Chrysanthemum Douluo's pressure, let out a hoarse roar. His Spirit Rings flared, and he forcibly blocked two of Spirit Hall's Spirit Douluo.
Several of the other academy team leaders sighed heavily, then clenched their teeth and threw themselves at their respective foes.
In an instant—
Beast roars split the heavens. Weapons clashed in storms of light.
The shockwaves of Spirit Power scoured the square, transforming it into a hellish killing field.
Shouts, screams, the clang of blades, the explosions of Spirit Abilities—
all mingled into a deafening cacophony.
Hot blood spilled freely within heartbeats, spreading across the cold stone.
Li Zhexian's face was calm as still water, his eyes colder than any blade.
With a single thought, the Great Vertebra Sword Qi surged skyward.
It divided into countless manifestations of Qinglian Swords.
Four of those Qinglian Swords whirled about him and his embattled friends, slashing forth to rescue anyone in peril.
In his hand, the true Qinglian Sword gleamed—
the blade following his will.
Four utterly distinct sword intents howled and tore through the battlefield.
Wherever they passed, Spirit Hall's Spirit Masters fell in silence, bodies severed before cries could leave their lips.
At his side fought Qian Renxue and Zhu Zhuqing.
Qian Renxue's six Spirit Rings radiated brilliant light. The Angel Holy Sword shone with sacred gold, bolstered by divine Spirit Power, leaving her nearly invincible.
"Xiao Wu, you—let go!" Zhu Zhuqing's voice was urgent.
She had just spotted a Spirit Hall Spirit Master attempting to flank and ambush Li Zhexian.
Breaking free of Xiao Wu's tightly clutching arm, her razor-sharp cat claws tore through the air, intercepting the attacker.
But in that instant, as Zhu Zhuqing tore herself free—
A strange, indescribable aura suddenly spread out from Xiao Wu's pale form.
The seven Titled Douluo locked in their earth-shaking clash all froze simultaneously.
As if by some unspoken instinct, every gaze turned toward Xiao Wu…