"Not long ago, Zong Shou had just entered the Xiantian realm. My foundation is not yet stable, please forgive my lack of composure!"

Before the words had fully left his mouth, Ye Feishuang's heart gave another violent leap.

A Xiantian realm expert? This youth, judging by his appearance, was far from adulthood. Could his usual flippant chatter actually be the truth—was he genuinely Xiantian? Even for their lineage, gifted as they were, reaching such a stage was impossible!

The black-robed youth fell silent for a long moment before finally offering a self-deprecating laugh. "A fourteen-year-old Xiantian. Truly terrifying! If my Master were to know, who knows how overjoyed he would be. However, I came today for only one purpose: to ask you plainly. Did you kill Elder Mi?"

"Elder Mi?"

Zong Shou repeated the name, confusion clouding his expression. A moment later, understanding dawned, followed by a faint, self-amused chuckle. "You mean the one who died beneath my sword at the foot of Corpse Demon Mountain in Blood Valley? I had assumed you were here for those two girls, but it seems you tracked me down because of that matter."

There was no attempt at concealment in his reply. Since they had found him here, they must already possess sufficient proof. Any defense now would only earn contempt; it was better to admit it frankly. It would come down to a fight regardless, and today he was eager to find opponents worthy of a full-force clash!

"It was indeed you!"

The black-robed youth sucked in a sharp breath, violently casting off the cloak draped over him. His face was finally revealed to the two women: features were well-defined and handsome, suggesting striking looks, but now they were marred by crisscrossing knife scars, lending him an intensely ferocious and ugly appearance.

He held a sheathed sword in his hand, yet his ice-blue eyes were perfectly calm, utterly undisturbed. "We of the [Baidu Shenhuang Bar] Demon Mountain Sect always repay kindness and avenge injury! Killing a fellow disciple is akin to slaying kin—a blood feud that cannot coexist! However, if you, young Lord, are willing to pledge yourself to my Master's tutelage today, this minor grievance can be overlooked. I, Yun Xu, dare to promise to spare your life for now!"

The sword was about three feet and three inches long. As it was slowly drawn, a flash of cold light erupted. A concealed, latent sword intent was deeply embedded within, yet the intent to kill was utterly unmasked. A chilling, murderous aura permeated the surroundings, sharp enough to pierce bone.

"A Wuzong!"

Ye Feishuang’s pupils contracted sharply. This scarred youth was actually a Wuzong of the fourth tier of the Earth Wheel—a first-level Wuzong!

Yet, what astonished her even more was Zong Shou’s reaction. Under such a powerful, oppressive aura, he showed no sign of timidity. His vital energy flickered in and out, yielding nothing. He stood tall, his expression neutral and cool, as if completely unaffected.

The black-robed youth raised an eyebrow and shook his head slightly. "So, the young Lord has already comprehended the true force of Martial Dao. At this age, you are truly extraordinary! It’s no wonder you slaughtered those three in Jue Long City as if they were mere dogs. While those three were strong, in the eyes of someone like you, they were unworthy... Yun Xu has studied martial arts for nearly twenty years and has never encountered anyone with talent as absolute as yours. It is highly likely that the Li Xieling of the Hundred Thousand Blood Kill also met his end by your hand? With such strength, you can fight my fellow disciples!"

Here, he paused, his tone turning icily cold. "It's just a pity that I, Yun Xu, have never favored fair fights. Though I specialize in the sword, I am not strictly a swordsman. I will not let you off easily, nor will I grant you any opportunities. The Young Lord’s Dao is undoubtedly formidable, but those two girls behind you are far too weak in our eyes. Qiu Ling—"

Without waiting for Yun Xu’s command, Qiu Ling let out a sinister, cackling laugh. The protective Gang energy surrounding his body burst forth, proving to be no less potent than Yun Xu’s own. He covered sixty feet in a single stride, then unleashed a thunderous punch. Countless black flames surged around him, finally coalescing at the tip of his fist! The shockwave scattered the surrounding snow and frost flying!

Ye Feishuang was prepared. Urging her sister, she raised the Yin-Yang Paired Jade Zither before them. Pouring all her strength into the activation, a repulsive force gathered around them. When the punch wind arrived, they only heard a deafening boom.

Both women spat blood from their noses and mouths, their forms pitiful. They slumped back down, struggling to maintain their positions.

Though Qiu Ling's appearance was grotesque, his fist technique was overwhelmingly domineering and fierce. This single punch carried a full 300,000 jin of crushing force—enough to split mountains and shatter stone! With one blow, the Yin-Yang Paired Jade Zither vibrated violently, and the repulsive force it generated dropped by a full twenty percent!

Yun Xu watched Zong Shou’s expression shift, a faint smirk playing on his lips. If he saw even a flicker of worry, anxiety, or concern—if his sword intent or Martial Dao conviction showed even the slightest gap—his sword would take the young man's life!

A sense of excitement brewed within him. What good was Heaven-bestowed genius? His greatest pleasure was extinguishing such talents! To crush them into the dirt, leaving no chance for resurgence!

This battle, he was certain, was his victory!

The youth opposite him indeed seemed to be changing. He appeared torn between turning back to help and forcefully restraining himself.

Yun Xu’s lips curved into a triumphant sneer, and the sword in his hand resonated softly, as if anticipating its final unsheathing.

But the next moment, Zong Shou’s expression settled into utter serenity.

At this juncture, Zong Shou actually closed his eyes and took a deep breath.

"In the past three months, alongside focused cultivation, I have devoted myself daily to comprehending the Way of the Sword. I sought to create my own Sword Art, but it remained elusive. I only managed two or three incomplete forms, which I named the World-Regret Sword. Three days ago, I suddenly realized: Sword Arts and martial skills can never be perfected in isolation. They must be validated in combat, tested by slaughter..."

He spoke almost word by word, his voice clear and carrying for several miles. There was an inexplicable rhythm to his tone, causing Zong Shou's aura to build steadily. He paid no heed to the two girls behind him struggling desperately in peril, his voice neither hurried nor slow.

Just as Yun Xu’s brow furrowed, feeling a slight confusion, Zong Shou opened his eyes again. Within them, there was nothing else—only pure clarity, tinged with a sliver of mundane curiosity.

"Brother Yun, are you practicing the 'Withered Demon Sword'? You've reached the Wuzong realm with it. Tell me, do you still possess your lower body? Have you been castrated?"

Yun Xu's hands clenched instantly. It felt as if a sharp needle had pierced his heart, causing excruciating pain. A surge of rage swelled in his chest, impossible to suppress.

"You are courting death!" His voice lost its prior depth, becoming sharp and unmanly. Every word dripped with killing intent, but he only managed half of it before stopping abruptly.

A flash of silver light shot out from Zong Shou's sleeve, and his entire figure seemed to suddenly expand in Yun Xu's vision, rapidly occupying more space, leaving a trail of afterimages behind him.

"World-Regret Sword, First Form: Great Spiral!"

The sword light whirled, dragging forth a powerful force interwoven with water, fire, and crackling lightning.

It began ordinarily enough, but by the time the sword light reached him, the scene was already overwhelmingly magnificent! Half was made of snow mist and icy grit, the other half of scorching, burning flame, with deep purple lightning flashing on the sides like enormous serpents.

Yun Xu was only stunned for a moment before roaring like a tiger. The crack in his state of mind instantly mended. In that instant, he cast aside everything and thrust his sword out. The speed of his strike transformed into a blinding shadow, actually three times faster than Zong Shou’s! All his power concentrated at the tip of the blade.

The three-foot-three sword, wielded in his hands, moved like a needle used for embroidery—agile and lethal.

But when his sword tip collided with Zong Shou's, Yun Xu discovered in horror that his sword felt as if it had plunged into a vortex, losing all control.

First, the myriad sword shadows spun! Second spin! Third spin! Fourth spin! It was truly like a spiral, sweeping forward madly. The surrounding air was agitated, transforming into a horizontal tornado that rushed toward him. At its core were the deadly ice shards and flames, with dark purple lightning whipping in and out!

Yun Xu’s heart plummeted to the bottom of the valley. The sword light in his hands surged to its absolute limit. Each strike was faster and stronger than the last, yet he could not escape the spiral's constraints. He was trapped in the confined space before him, pouring all his strength into repelling this encroaching storm, but feeling increasingly helpless.

He felt like a precarious dam, attempting to hold back a torrent that rose higher and higher, yet had no place to vent its fury.

Between the two, apart from the roaring gale, there was only the ringing clang of steel meeting steel and the sparks erupting from clashing sword lights.

Yun Xu’s sword was gradually forced closer to his body; his movements became awkward and clumsy. Behind the storm, those two starry eyes grew colder, radiating chilling killing intent!

Yun Xu felt waves of terror and inexplicable panic continuously breaking into his previously flawless mind.

What kind of sword technique is this? So powerful, so overbearing, so unreasonable! Listening to Zong Shou's words, it seems self-created. How is that possible? Such a sword technique, even in the great Sects and powerful Clans, would be listed as a supreme art! How could it be self-created?

If this continued, he would die!

His eyes narrowed. Yun Xu suddenly shouted with a voice that cracked like thunder. The dozens of wounds on his face abruptly burst open, blood gushing out.

Even his lower body was entirely drenched in blood. But his aura instantly multiplied several times. A ferocious will rose up, and his eyes turned blood-red, filled with boundless hatred.

He was determined to tear Zong Shou to pieces today! To cut him limb from limb and devour him! No matter the cost, he would utterly annihilate him, leaving him without a burial place!

But in the next moment, he saw the corner of the opposite figure's mouth curl into a cruel sneer!

A streak of silver light suddenly pierced through the spiraling sword light and shot toward his face. Yun Xu subconsciously deflected with his sword, but struck empty air. A shadow flashed and flickered, already arriving from another side.

Then, before his eyes, the 'flood' he had resisted for so long completely breached the dam!

Yun Xu was startled and stunned, then his vision was entirely filled with sword shadows. The storm-like sword light swept outward, sword energy spraying everywhere, entwined with the power of water and fire, instantly engulfing his form.

In a short while, countless fragments of flesh and blood scattered wildly in all directions, all smaller than a fingernail chip. Yun Xu's body was almost instantly pulverized under the slicing force of the spiral sword light!

But the momentum did not stop. Like an immense dragon, the power swept forward for several hundred feet before gradually subsiding. On the ground, it left behind a massive crater, over thirty feet wide and nearly four feet deep! (To be continued)