The Walk of Dread
"Tons… tons… hic!"
Lu Yuan ambled across the courtyard with his wine jar, hiccupping in satisfied rhythm. Today was the big day: his long-awaited duel with the old man, Sword Douluo Chen Xin.
"Can't be late," he slurred cheerfully to himself.
For everyone else in the Seven Treasure Glazed Tile Sect, his approach was a nightmare.
Disciples scattered wherever he turned. Though some had to remain to watch, their faces were pale. Reports from Tiandou Academy had come back weeks ago—how Lu Yuan fought drunk, beat classmates at random, humiliated nobles without care. Now, seeing him in the flesh, staggering closer with sword and jar together, left their knees weak.
Inner Sect disciples—auxiliary soul masters, fragile as glass themselves—were especially nervous. To them, even the collateral damage from Lu Yuan's hiccup might be fatal.
But no one could avoid coming. The Sect Master had ordered it: they had to witness the duel that could shake the foundation of their Sect.
Meet the Drunk Challenger
"Xiao Yuan, why are you drunk again?!" Ning Fengzhi sighed, pinching his forehead. He had warned him last night not to drink before the fight. And still—one look this morning and Lu Yuan's face already glowed red.
"Hahaha—Uncle Ning!" Lu Yuan grinned, raising his jar. "On such an important day, how can I not drink two more glasses?"
"…." Ning Fengzhi had no words left.
All around, disciples muttered.
"Why's he glaring at us?"
"He actually thinks we're standing far because we're cowards—yes! Because we are!"
Moments later, Lu Yuan bellowed: "You brats! What are you hanging back for—afraid I'll beat you up?"
The disciples jolted. Because yes, exactly that.
"If you don't come closer, be careful—I beat you up first!"
Their faces twitched. With trembling steps, they shuffled forward, forcing smiles. Better to risk the front than summon his wrath.
Lu Yuan grinned drunkenly, satisfied. "Good! Good, that's more like it."
Entrance of the Sword
At last, the square cleared. Chen Xin stepped onto the stage, Seven Kill Sword gleaming at his side. His voice was cold and steady, but faint tension rippled behind it.
"Boy. Today, I will lower my spirit power to the Soul King realm, the same as yours, and I won't use excess tricks. Otherwise, it would be bullying."
Lu Yuan's narrowed eyes suddenly gleamed. "Old man, you're looking for excuses already! Don't insult me."
His hand fell to the sword on his back.
Shink!
The moment the dark blade slid out, Chen Xin's face stiffened. The same suffocating suppression he had felt four years ago when the boy awakened—the aura that had nearly crippled him—came flooding back, heavier, sharper, more terrifying than ever.
And he regretted immediately. He should not have promised so quickly.
Clash
"Go on then," Lu Yuan smirked. "I'll let you swing first."
Chen Xin didn't hesitate. His body blurred like a phantom, thrusting forward with deadly speed.
Clang!!
Two swords collided. Sparks flared fiercely, splitting air, drawing gasps from the watchers.
Chen Xin's heart jolted. Something was wrong—horribly wrong.
The sheer force behind the boy's strike was far beyond expectation.
"Soul King!" Gu Rong cried aloud from the sidelines, eyes bulging. "He's already Soul King!"
Shock cascaded. Just weeks ago, they had heard he was merely approaching the upper Soul Sect level, and even that had shaken the continent. But now—the truth glowed at his feet.
Five rings.
Three purple. Two black.
Terrifying—beyond any precedent.
Chen Xin's mind reeled. He had suppressed his strength to the Soul King realm, yet even that wasn't enough! It felt like the gap between them had reversed.
Pressured by a Boy
Sword Qi flared from Lu Yuan, pouring across the square like a hurricane.
Chen Xin instinctively launched his defense. "Guardian of the Spirit Sword!"
But destructive black flames shredded the protective barrier immediately, sparks eating through layer by layer. It blocked—barely—but the tremor in Chen Xin's arm told the truth.
"Tons… tons…" Lu Yuan swigged mid-battle, laughing. "Not bad, old man. Try another!"
His second ring ignited. "Broken Air Slash!"
Nine streaks of blackened Sword Qi screamed out, empowered further by his first skill, Surge, amplifying every motion by seventy percent.
Chen Xin's pupils shrank. "The Murderous Cut!"
His fourth ring blazed. A massive sword aura clashed against the nine strikes.
But each slice cracked and weakened it further. Lu Yuan's sheer offensive power—boosted by overlap—overwhelmed him.
Ning Fengzhi's complexion paled. "…Chen Xin is at a disadvantage. Soul rings higher, Sword restrains Sword… Combat experience was supposed to be his edge. But I see no gap there either."
Trying the Fifth
And then Lu Yuan chuckled. "Oh right… what was I supposed to do today? Ah yes—test my fifth spirit ability!"
Drunken eyes, steady hands.
"Sword intent ignited… Fifth Soul Skill!"
His aura warped, and then—
"Wind-Chen Death Slash!"
The air exploded. Lu Yuan's body shimmered from existence. A terrifying arc of sword energy detonated, howling across space.
"This—!" Gu Rong shot up. "That's not Soul King power—that's Soul Sage at least!"
Chen Xin had no time to hesitate. His face twisted. Pride was useless in the face of survival.
"The Seven Kill True Body!"
Seven Kill Sword expanded fiercely into its true form. With desperate grit, Chen Xin reinforced his stance as the black strike carved reality apart.
BOOM!
The world cracked. Two energies collided. When the storm passed, Lu Yuan already stood behind Chen Xin silently, sword lazily resting.
Even with his Martial Soul True Body released, Chen Xin's shoulder trembled faintly, a streak of blood at his lip.
"Tons… tons…" Lu Yuan drank again, unimpressed. "Boring. You fight with fear, old man. That's not fun."
Chen Xin's mouth twitched. A boy just forced him into using his ultimate. How was he supposed to admit this openly!?
Sect in Shock
The plaza shook with exclamations.
"He forced Sword Douluo back!"
"Is this really just a Soul King?"
"His rings, his blade—my god…"
To the disciples, Lu Yuan was no longer just "monster." He was now nightmare and idol in one.
"This one's handsome…"
"I want his sword…"
"I'd settle for his spirit rings!"
Not long ago, they had all tried to stand as far back from him as possible. Now, awe glittered in even the coldest eyes.
The Wine Cellar Raid
After the duel ended anticlimactically—Chen Xin grimacing, Lu Yuan yawning—the boy wandered casually off-stage. The disciples breathed sighs of relief… until they noticed his new path.
"The wine cellar…" someone whispered.
Two poor disciples on guard duty stiffened like statues as Lu Yuan swayed toward them.
"…What do we do?"
"What else? Pretend we didn't see him!"
They turned their backs, whistling into the air.
Lu Yuan frowned at the chained cellar. "Locked?"
Just then, a clink! A key landed neatly before the door.
Lu Yuan narrowed bleary eyes—saw three keyholes from his drunken blur—and cursed, "Argh! Don't move!"
The guards' lips curled in hidden grins. Who's moving at all? You just can't see straight.
Finally, one disciple cracked. With trembling hands, he opened the lock.
Lu Yuan barged in, humming. "Ha… all wine! Load it up, drink it now, save it later!"
He emerged sometime later, belly full and arms swinging heavy Soul Guidance Devices packed with jars.
When he spotted the two guards pretending still not to see him, his glare sharpened. "Oi, you two brats. Think I didn't notice? Be careful—I'll beat you up next time!"
Then he grinned. "Actually, come inside and help me pack."
The guards paled. "Am I special…? When did honesty become a death sentence…"
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