Two of the Spirit Hall's Titled Douluo had fallen.
The outcome of the battle—
was already decided.
Below, countless gazes filled with awe and reverence fixed upon the figures suspended high in the sky.
Especially upon the white-robed youth, untainted amid the downpour of blood.
At such a young age—
to not only partake in a battle between Titled Douluo, but to be the one who led to the fall of one…
Such an achievement—
was nothing short of earth-shattering.
Ning Rongrong looked up, dazed, at Li Zhexian.
The grief of fallen sect disciples had not yet faded,
But he had descended like a god,
One sword sealing victory.
That sword had spared the Seven Treasures Glazed Tile Sect countless casualties.
Ning Rongrong knew—
In this lifetime, no other could ever take his place in her heart.
Above, Chen Xin's sword light cascaded like a waterfall,
Holding back both Yue Guan and Gui Mei.
The two were already shaken to the core,
Their hearts filled with fear, retreat on their minds.
Now, pressed to their limits,
They had completely lost the upper hand.
Whoosh—
Whoosh—
The rain of blood was shredded and scattered by violent gales.
Gu Rong, Feng Bailong, and Dugu Bo flickered through the air, taking positions at three sides—forming a deadly encirclement.
Only one side remained open.
Yue Guan and Gui Mei's faces turned grim. They struck together, clashing head-on with Chen Xin's sword light, and seized that fleeting opening to escape.
Zheng—!
A crimson sword qi condensed from thin air—
then vanished without sound, replaced by Li Zhexian himself.
"With just you…"
"…you think to block our path?"
"Li Zhexian! Do you truly believe you can stand against a Titled Douluo?"
Yue Guan's voice was urgent, laced with both disdain and killing intent.
"You're welcome to try."
Li Zhexian's handsome face remained calm, utterly indifferent.
Clang—!
The Great Vertebra Spirit Bone flared, sword qi roaring skyward.
Vast sword intent tore through the rain,
Reversing its fall into a spiraling storm.
Seven blades of Qinglian Sword hovered around him,
Each bearing a distinct sword intent,
Each glowing with boundless radiance and killing edge.
His Myriad Forms Sword Dao had already taken shape.
"Monster…" Gui Mei spat the word through clenched teeth.
At that moment—
Chen Xin, Gu Rong, Dugu Bo, and Feng Bailong charged in from all directions.
Yue Guan and Gui Mei exchanged a glance—
Then, without hesitation, released their Martial Souls.
"Martial Soul Fusion Skill—Bipolar Static Domain!"
Hum—!
A wave of unseen force rippled outward—
From the point where their Martial Souls merged.
Wherever it spread—
The blood rain froze midair.
The terror on the faces of the Spirit Masters below—solidified.
Even Chen Xin and the others halted mid-charge,
Suspended motionless in the sky.
"Yue Guan! Withdraw!"
Gui Mei's shout tore through the still air.
Yue Guan's eyes gleamed with killing intent, fixed coldly on the frozen figure of Li Zhexian.
"This one is no ordinary youth. If we can't kill him in one strike,
Once Chen Xin and the others recover, we'll be trapped here to die!"
Yue Guan's gaze hardened—
then finally withdrew.
Their Spirit Power surged wildly, and the two became twin streaks of light, darting toward the northern sky—their only path of escape.
Crack—
Crack-crack—
Moments later,
A sound sharp as shattering glass echoed—
BOOM—!
The Bipolar Static Domain broke apart with a thunderous burst.
The shockwave swept the blood rain aside, clearing the heavens.
"Damn it—they escaped!"
Gu Rong's voice was heavy with fury.
"It's fine, Senior Gu Rong."
A faint smile touched Li Zhexian's otherwise cold face.
"Yue Guan and Ghost together are not easy to kill."
"Today, two of the Spirit Hall's Titled Douluo have fallen—that alone will cause Bibi Dong unbearable pain."
From below, a chorus of anguished cries rose up—
pulling Li Zhexian and the others back to the present.
They looked down upon the battlefield—
Of the Spirit Hall's four Titled Douluo,
two lay dead—two had fled.
The Spirit Master Army, having lost its pillars of strength,
though superior in number, had already collapsed in morale—
their fighting spirit utterly shattered.
The rout was total.
Thousands of Spirit Hall Spirit Masters, faces twisted in terror, scattered and fled in all directions, wailing as they ran.
Ning Fengzhi descended lightly before the battered gates of the Seven Treasure Glazed Tile Clan. His voice was cold and sharp as the chill winds of the Nine Hells:
"Kill."
"Leave none of Spirit Hall's forces alive!"
The slaughter raged from midnight until dawn.
The once-lush Seven Treasures Mountain Range now reeked of blood—
Corpses scattered across the scarred land.
Streams of blood ran down the slopes,
Washing through the cracks in the stone.
The battle had been brutal beyond measure.
Even with all preparations complete,
The Seven Treasures Glazed Tile Clan still lost more than a thousand of its three thousand disciples
under the assault of ten thousand enemy Spirit Masters.
But Spirit Hall's losses—were even greater.
Two Titled Douluo slain.
Of their ten-thousand-strong force, barely a tenth survived.
The remaining few fled the mountains,
Like beaten dogs.
...
In the Seven Treasure Glazed Tile Clan's Grand Hall,
the atmosphere was heavy and grim.
Ning Fengzhi sat at the head of the hall, his face pale, eyes hollow, showing only exhaustion and deep sorrow.
Though this battle was a great victory—
the blood of his disciples made that triumph unbearably heavy,
too painful to celebrate.
Chen Xin and Gu Rong sat to his left and right.
Below them were Feng Bailong, Dugu Bo, and Li Zhexian.
Slowly, Ning Fengzhi rose. Chen Xin and Gu Rong followed, standing respectfully.
Together, the three bowed deeply toward Feng Bailong, Dugu Bo, and Li Zhexian.
"Sect Master Feng, Senior Dugu, Zhexian…"
"Your aid has preserved the very foundation of my Seven Treasure Glazed Tile Clan. This debt shall never be forgotten."
His voice was hoarse with emotion.
The three immediately rose and returned the bow.
Ning Fengzhi's gaze lingered on Li Zhexian, filled with complex emotion.
"Zhexian…"
"In this battle—from the warning, to the planning, to fighting on the front lines—you've earned immeasurable merit."
"As for… what happened before…"
He paused, his eyes drifting toward Ning Rongrong, who stood below, clutching the hem of her robe, her face pale.
At last, he sighed.
"Forget it. In any case…"
"Zhexian, should you ever need it, the entire Seven Treasure Glazed Tile Clan will stand as your strongest support."
Li Zhexian clasped his hands in gratitude.
Then, after a brief pause, he spoke solemnly:
"Regarding the Spirit Hunting Operation…"
"Spirit Hall had three targets."
"They've suffered a crushing defeat here at the Seven Treasure Glazed Tile Clan—two Titled Douluo dead, heavy losses."
"They may hesitate to attack the Blue Lightning Tyrant Dragon Clan again…"
"But we cannot afford to be careless."
"Senior Yu Yuanzhen still guards the clan. Though he could not aid us this time, much of the battlefield's formation and traps were his contribution."
"As we discussed earlier—"
Gu Rong spoke first:
"Chen Xin will remain here to protect the sect."
"Zhexian, I'll accompany you to the Blue Lightning Clan."
Feng Bailong and Dugu Bo added:
"And the two of us as well."
"Only by standing together can we hope that, when danger comes to the Wind Sword Sect or the Heaven Dou Empire, we too may call upon aid."
Li Zhexian—
the bridge linking all these mighty forces—
had to take this upon himself.
And within his heart, he had his own purpose.
After a brief thought, Li Zhexian bowed solemnly to the gathered elders.
"Once matters at the Blue Lightning Clan are settled…"
"I'll ask your aid with the task I entrusted you with."
It was rare to see the young man so grave.
Chen Xin, Gu Rong, Dugu Bo, and Feng Bailong all laughed heartily:
"Zhexian, rest assured."
"When the time comes, we'll accompany you into the Star Dou Forest ourselves."
"With Yu Yuanzhen's strength joining ours, there'll be no danger we can't overcome."
A weight lifted from Li Zhexian's heart; he let out a long breath of relief.
"Zhexian thanks all you seniors."
...
Meanwhile—
In Spirit City, within the grand Pope's Hall—
Silence reigned.
Upon the high throne, Bibi Dong sat motionless, the supreme scepter clutched tightly in her hand.
Her fingers curled slowly—
Crack…
Crack…
The sound of twisting metal echoed through the still air.
In that deathly silence—
the noise was sharp, chilling, and terrifyingly clear.