Ying Bu offered a quiet, knowing smile, then extended his left hand, gesturing for Ye Xiu to proceed onto the mountain path beyond the camp.

Ye Xiu nodded and turned, walking ahead.

Ying Bu followed closely.

There was little need for words between them; their focus was singular: the destined battle.

If previous duels contained nuances of mutual feeling regarding Wan'er, this one was purely for the sake of swordsmanship itself, where life and death hung on a single thought.

The wilderness grassland stretched boundlessly, winds playing mockingly, only stirring the twilight. "After you," Ying Bu declared, unable to wait any longer.

The moment Qi Shuo was drawn, surrounding weeds instantly bowed low to the ground.

Ye Xiu understood the nature of Ying Bu's sword techniques.

If the confidence held while wielding Tian Yi before had been ineffable, the confrontation today—a demonic blade against the Shan Jue Sword Style—promised a different kind of spectacle.

Though Ying Bu was skilled in strategy and tactics when commanding armies, the inherent arrogance of a swordsman made him less constrained in a one-on-one duel.

He had no desire to probe the secrets of Ye Xiu’s blade work; at this moment, he was fluid, releasing the light of Shan Jue like a sudden downpour striking sand, aiming directly for Ye Xiu.

Ye Xiu was equally resolved.

Drawing his blade at high speed, he channeled a surge of cutting force into the shimmering danger before him.

With a series of sharp clangs, the interplay of sword light and blade shadows resonated, shaking the very air around them.

Every swaying blade of grass seemed to surrender its connection to the wind, for the clash between the two had reached a level capable of resisting natural forces.

Sparks erupted continuously where the weapons met across the clearing. "Not bad, you handle that blade quite skillfully," Ying Bu mocked, not using his full strength, sparring with Ye Xiu as if in jest. "Bring out your best tricks now, don't hold back.

I fear you might not get another chance later." "Hoo..." Ye Xiu took a deep, sharp breath.

He couldn't tell if Ying Bu’s sword speed had genuinely increased or if his own mastery over the demonic blade was still lacking.

After every hard collision, a slight numbness crept up his arm.

Was Ying Bu deliberately luring him into adopting postures unsuitable for the human arm to counter the sword strikes? "Faster, faster..." Ying Bu suddenly roared, and his force followed his voice, spinning rapidly in mid-air.

That strike, two strikes, three strikes—a flurry of blows descended like hard rain pelting lotus leaves, overwhelming Ye Xiu, forcing him to retreat step after step. "What’s wrong? Is that all you've got!" Ying Bu was clearly dissatisfied, his expression hardening even as he spoke, before his voice darkened, adding, "Shan Jue • Chan Ming." Ye Xiu recognized this as another strange sword technique.

He intended to use a single-foot shuffle to pivot out of Ying Bu's immediate front, but whether due to the environment or some trick, Ying Bu’s Qi Shuo flashed past his right abdomen like a venomous snake, then coiled back, lunging toward his center from the left.

He tried to hold his demonic blade horizontally to block the attack, but the moment Qi Shuo contacted the blade, it underwent an incredible, impossible transformation, coiling around the Yao Dao and driving straight toward his chest.

Slash...

Ye Xiu couldn't dodge in time and took the blow squarely in the chest.

Although the force wasn't overwhelming, the sword acted like the striking maw of a viper, repeatedly snapping up and down—up and down—leaving several bloody kisses on his skin in a mere instant. "How about that move?" Ying Bu demanded, leaping back a full, Qi Shuo remaining steady and strong in his hand, devoid of its previous serpentine anomaly.

Ye Xiu was also thrown back.

He touched the spots where he’d been wounded, irritation brewing.

He wondered what other marvels lay hidden within the Shan Jue Sword Style; Ying Bu's moves were perpetually unexpected.

Ye Xiu knew Ying Bu was one of the foremost masters in the Central Plains, but his own journey had not been one that allowed such easy victories.

He gently closed his eyes, gripping the Yao Dao tightly, reviewing the footwork and maneuvers from the Gui Jun Shu in his mind, before holding the demonic blade across his chest.

Ying Bu watched with palpable expectation.

He too wanted to know how much this man, absent for so long, had grown.

He was especially curious about that undeniably strange-looking blade. "Watch my Gui Bu (Ghost Steps)," Ye Xiu murmured with a wry smile, and as the sound faded, he vanished into the wilderness.

It was the first time Ying Bu had witnessed such a technique, and a cold sweat broke out.

Where did he go? Was it concealment or pure speed? The plain was too open, allowing no place for concealment; the thick grasses, however deep, should not be able to hide the aura of a living man! He continuously scanned left and right, searching for any trace of Ye Xiu, but no matter how sharp his sight or hearing, Ye Xiu was nowhere to be found. "Hmph!" A faint hum echoed through the air—Ye Xiu had already subtly materialized behind Ying Bu, bringing the Yao Dao down in a straight line. "Hah..." Ying Bu’s reaction was astonishingly swift.

Before the hum had fully dissipated, he was already spinning in mid-air, raising Qi Shuo to meet Ye Xiu’s attack.

Ye Xiu started, surprised that his high-speed movement had failed to disorient Ying Bu.

However, the length of the Yao Dao gave him an advantage; although Ying Bu blocked the strike, he couldn't completely deflect the chop, and a deep gash appeared on his arm. "This..." Ying Bu sounded impressed.

When he landed safely and looked back toward Ye Xiu's previous position, the man was gone again.

He straightened up, subtly cocking his ear, trying to discern Ye Xiu’s location by sound alone.

Could it be that simple? Could the Gui Bu from Ghost Trace Island be neutralized so easily? "Here!" Ye Xiu reappeared at Ying Bu's flank, blade raised, and lunged downward, only to hear a resounding clang as the Yao Dao was fiercely locked in place by Qi Shuo.

Sensing danger, he immediately vanished again, flickering between two points.

At this moment, Ying Bu’s reactions gained a degree of steadiness.

He maintained his focused listening, a stance that seemed highly effective, allowing him to calmly parry Ye Xiu's successive sudden assaults. "Hoo...

hoo..." The price of high-speed movement was exhaustion.

Without the support of Tian Yi, the Ziyan Chain in Ye Xiu's hand possessed almost no spiritual energy.

His speed couldn't reach its peak, but the physical drain was maximized. "Hahaha, is this your ultimate skill?" Ying Bu laughed heartily, planting his feet firmly, drawing unknown patterns in the air with Qi Shuo. "Shan Jue • Si Fang Dong (Four-Directional Movement)." "What!" Ye Xiu had been maintaining his movement, seeing Ying Bu standing solidly on the grassland.

But after a flash of white light, his vision suddenly went empty.

Ying Bu had vanished.

How? What technique was this? "Heh heh." Though Ying Bu’s figure was gone, his voice sounded out, strangely, almost directly beside Ye Xiu.

Ye Xiu continued to employ the Gui Bu, repeatedly stepping between two fixed points on the lawn.

But when he returned from the end point to the starting point this time, a glaring sword qi awaited him.

He gritted his teeth, spun around, and thrust the Yao Dao forward, narrowly avoiding disaster. "Your movement is based on two points; mine is based on four.

At the same speed, I find you more easily.

How does that sound?" Ying Bu was close to success, though his tone betrayed his confidence. "I advise you to abandon this style of attack; it's useless against me." "Alas..." Ye Xiu sighed, shaking his head, and instantly stopped moving.

He stood quietly, head bowed, leaving behind a lonely silhouette on the wilderness.

It seemed he was even weaker now than before; the only thing left to decide the outcome was that one final move. "Woo..." A gust of wind swept the flying grass opposite them, and Ying Bu’s figure slowly descended onto the clearing like a phantom.

Both born from the Ghost Valley, the moment of life-or-death decision seemed destined to be settled by the elegance of that sword strike. "Let me see how fast your blade truly is." Although Ying Bu held the clear advantage, he couldn't fully gauge Ye Xiu's current strength.

Furthermore, he still held back one final technique—the simplest, most practical, and hardest-to-predict thrusting sword art.

Ye Xiu slowly regulated his ragged breath, having now mastered the secrets of the Yao Dao.

He slowly raised the demonic blade, then deliberately sheathed it at his waist.

Yes, the essence of the Yao Dao lay in the fatal instant of the draw; all victory or defeat hinged upon that single moment of unsheathing.

The wind from the natural world had died away—or rather, it wasn't gone, but entirely obscured and subsumed by the killing aura radiating from both men.

Calm.

In such a moment, nothing deserved to exist except tranquility. "Shan Jue • Jian Xia Hun (Soul Under the Sword)," Ying Bu intoned, leaping high into the air.

It appeared placid and simple: man and sword advancing straight toward Ye Xiu. "Gui • Wan Yin Ba Dao (Myriad Concealed Draw)," Ye Xiu roared, unleashing his malevolence.

Instantly, the energy of the Gui Jun Shu materialized thousands of copies of himself, each holding a Yao Dao, charging toward Ying Bu in unison.

Ye Xiu's thousand blades against one sword seemed certain to succeed.

However, the closer his forms drew to Ying Bu, the stronger a malevolent spirit he felt.

Just as his clones moved to surround and annihilate Ying Bu, a cold light pierced the entire heaven and earth.

A tidal wave of spectral armies surged before Ye Xiu’s eyes—an imposing force like a long rainbow piercing the sun, the Milky Way plummeting down.

These were the vengeful spirits of those slain by Ying Bu’s sword on the battlefield.

In an instant, the Gui Yin clones and the Jian Xia souls entangled one another.

Earth, mud, and wild grasses flew across the clearing as sounds of slaughter mixed with mournful cries that shook the sky.

In mere moments, the entire wilderness was churned three feet deep, utterly disturbed. "Ah..." The final move between Ye Xiu and Ying Bu had not yet truly culminated.

Obviously, the prior earth-shattering turbulence had no effect on either combatant.

Ye Xiu, suspended in mid-air, was readying his draw, while Ying Bu’s sword remained pointed straight ahead.

The clash between the cold light and the fierce aura—would their long history of confrontation conclude with this single strike? Ye Xiu gently touched his waist; the Yao Dao had already sprung halfway from its sheath, casting a magnificent, crescent-shaped blade light that was dazzling in the setting sun.

Ying Bu’s sword thrust remained direct and swift, appearing at a glance like a shooting star streaking across the evening sky.

But in an evening poised to yield to darkness, how could the light of a mere meteor ever find acceptance?

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