Chapter 130: The Shaoze Sword

"How is this possible!"

Jia Wen stood frozen, staring at the cyan-black ancient sword lying on the ground. His widened eyes were filled with disbelief. Had his Qingfeng Sword, unleashed with all his might, truly been defeated just like that?

Below the bluestone arena, thousands of people drew a sharp breath in unison! They stared fixedly at the cyan-black blade that had been struck down by a single finger from Ke Bei.

Utter silence! Absolute stillness!

Those admirers of Luo Ling had been smirking inwardly when Ke Bei stepped onto the arena, their eyes wide, waiting to see him make a fool of himself. After all, Jia Wen was ranked fourth on the Azure Dragon List! To say nothing of Ke Bei being a mere newcomer, there were only two or three people in the entire Genius Training Camp who could be certain of defeating Jia Wen.

These admirers had been gloating, but the moment Ke Bei’s finger sent Jia Wen’s sword plummeting, their smugness instantly froze, replaced by a shock so profound it defied description.

"Damn! Am I seeing things? Was that really Jia Wen's sword?"

"Jia Wen, ranked fourth on the Azure Dragon List, defeated with a single flick of a finger? Fuck, are you kidding me?"

"This guy has been playing the pig to eat the tiger! What a devious bastard, though his strength is terrifyingly monstrous!"

"Aside from Li Qingfeng and Mu Dunhun, I’m afraid no one below the God of War realm is a match for that kid!"

"No, don't forget that dark horse who just emerged recently, Wang Yuan. Wang Yuan has fought eighty times so far, and every single time, he has defeated his opponent with one move. I wonder who is stronger between the two?"

These geniuses of the Jiujiang Genius Training Camp instinctively compared Ke Bei to the newly emerged dark horse, Wang Yuan. Though they silently debated who was stronger, no matter how stunning their performances were, none of the thousands present believed either of them could be mentioned in the same breath as Li Qingfeng or Mu Dunhun. Perhaps it was the bias of their preconceived notions, or perhaps Li Qingfeng and Mu Dunhun were simply that incredibly powerful.

At the summit of Wujin Mountain, the Blood Wind God of War, sitting cross-legged on a bluestone slab, suddenly saw his eyes flash with sharp light.

"Hahaha... Good! Where did the old Palace Master dig up this boy?"

The Blood Wind God of War laughed heartily and turned to look at the gaunt, thin old man hovering beside him, asking slowly.

"He wasn't dug up by the Palace Master; he was brought here by the Palace Master's precious disciple, Han Lingyue," the thin old man replied in a deep voice, his gaze fixed on the bluestone arena.

"My disciple hasn't used his full strength yet. Let’s keep watching. Although it's unlikely he'll win, he won't lose too disgracefully either."

"Hahaha, stop fooling yourself, Old Qing. If your disciple hasn't used his full strength, then that kid Ke Bei probably hasn't even shown one-tenth of his power. Can't you see that?"

Hearing the thin old man’s words, the Blood Wind God of War laughed.

"If your disciple is sensible, he should just concede. There is no point in continuing. The sword intent that burst from Ke Bei's fingertip just now—even that kid Li Qingfeng would find it troublesome if he encountered it."

"Hmph. Would a disciple of Qing Jue surrender without a fight?"

The thin old man frowned slightly and ceased speaking. His gaze pierced through the hazy white mist, fixed upon the bluestone arena.

On the arena, Jia Wen stood dazed for a moment before staring at his fallen sword and taking a deep breath.

"Return!"

As Jia Wen slowly extended his palm, a gust of cyan wind shot forth. The cyan energy wrapped around the dark blade, and with a low, cold shout from Jia Wen, the sword shuddered and flew back to his palm like a lightning bolt.

"My judgment was poor today. Heh, I never expected your strength to reach such a level, but..."

Jia Wen slowly raised his head. His messy hair partially obscured his somewhat youthful face, and his black eyes had completely turned a pale cyan.

"But surrendering without a fight is not my nature. I only hope to witness your true strength!"

Jia Wen’s cyan-tinted eyes locked onto Ke Bei, his tone unprecedentedly solemn.

"True strength?"

Ke Bei frowned slightly, pondered for a moment, and then nodded at Jia Wen.

A true warrior does not fear defeat; he fears humiliation.

Jia Wen was a warrior. If Ke Bei did not display his real power, Jia Wen would feel insulted.

*Boom! Boom! Boom!*

Seeing Ke Bei nod, Jia Wen smiled faintly. Horrifying, deep cyan energy surged frantically from his body, and his flowing black hair stood on end.

"Take my final sword!"

A touch of madness crossed Jia Wen's handsome face as he slowly released the cyan-black sword. The moment he let go, the blade hovered above his head, and the deep cyan energy poured wildly into it.

*Hum, hum...* As the massive energy surged in, the sword’s color grew darker and darker. Moments later, the blade, which had originally glowed with a faint cyan light, turned completely black.

"'Qingfeng Sword', third form: Devouring Wind Sword!"

Jia Wen roared. The black sword hovering above him trembled, and as the word "Sword" left his lips, it struck out toward Ke Bei like a black lightning bolt.

There was no energy leaking from the black sword; it was pure to the extreme, and fast to the limit!

"A domineering sword strike!"

Sensing the immense power contained within the black sword, Ke Bei sighed inwardly. He hadn't expected someone ranked only fourth on the Azure Dragon List to be this strong!

"Brother!"

Luo Ling gripped her hands tightly, her eyes fixed on that black bolt of lightning. Sensing the terrifying power, she grew panicked. Could Ke Bei block such a frightening strike?

"Don't worry!"

Luo Han frowned, staring intently at the black sword. Although he consoled his sister, he had no confidence himself. He knew that if he were in Ke Bei's position, he could never block such a strike.

"Ke Bei, you kid, you must block it! My sister has already shed too many tears for you. If you dare make her cry again, I will never let you off! Never!"

Luo Han’s fists were clenched tight. He didn't look at the black lightning; he wanted to see how Ke Bei would handle this strike.

"Sigh, fine. I’ll reveal a little something, or this kid Jia Wen might die of frustration. He is, after all, a hope for humanity's future; I shouldn't let him be too discouraged."

To an ordinary Transcendence-realm cultivator, Jia Wen's strike was terrifying, but Ke Bei could crush it with a simple punch. He could even stand still and let the blade strike him without sustaining any injury.

But if Ke Bei handled it that way, Jia Wen would be deeply demoralized. After a moment's thought, Ke Bei abandoned that idea.

He took a shallow breath, slowly extended his left pinky, and let the internal energy of the Nine Suns Divine Art flow forth.

"Shaoze Sword!"

With a low shout, an invisible sword qi shot from Ke Bei’s left pinky!

*Whoosh!*

The sword qi tore through the air, meeting the black sword that was rushing toward him like a streak of black lightning!

*Boom!*

The moment the invisible sword qi collided with the black sword, a thunderous roar erupted. The massive energy contained within the black blade burst forth instantly!

*Boom, boom, boom!*

The Shaoze Sword, driven by Ke Bei’s profound Nine Suns Divine Art internal energy, instantly pierced through the deep cyan energy erupting from the black blade. With a final roar, the razor-sharp, invisible sword qi slammed into Jia Wen, instantly shredding his silver uniform and piercing through his body.

"What... what kind of sword is this?"

Jia Wen looked at Ke Bei with a serene expression, a streak of blood slowly trickling from the corner of his mouth. The moment the Shaoze Sword pierced him, he felt an indescribably sharp sword intent rush into his body, instantly shattering his internal organs into dust.

"'Six Meridians Divine Sword' — Shaoze Sword!"

Ke Bei looked at Jia Wen, blood spilling from his lips, and stated each word with absolute seriousness.

"Thank you!"

Jia Wen looked at Ke Bei, smiled, and said a solemn "thank you." Then, his body collapsed onto the bluestone arena. His insides had been thoroughly destroyed by the sword qi, and he had only stayed upright until now through sheer willpower.

"You're welcome!"

Ke Bei frowned, his tone heavy. He understood why Jia Wen had thanked him, but he felt unworthy of the gratitude. He had promised to use his full strength, but how could he dare? With Jia Wen’s current cultivation, even if Ke Bei had only used one-third of the Shaoze Sword's power, Jia Wen couldn't handle it. If he had truly used his full power, Jia Wen would have been instantly obliterated.

"Ke Bei wins!"

The God of War realm expert who had been hovering above the arena changed his expression slightly, looked at Ke Bei with surprise, then flickered to Jia Wen's side and placed a pill glowing with faint cyan light into his mouth.

After standing silently for a moment, Ke Bei took one last look at Jia Wen and turned to walk off the arena.

"Wait!"

Just as Ke Bei was about to step down, the God of War who served as the referee spoke.

Earlier, when the judge was feeding Jia Wen the pill, the voice of the Blood Wind God of War had reached his ears, ordering him to adjust all of Ke Bei's remaining matches to today.

This meant Ke Bei would have to fight ninety-nine consecutive battles!

"Hmm?"

Hearing the judge, Ke Bei stopped and turned around, looking at him with confusion.

"Heh, you don't need to step down. The next match is yours as well!"