A sudden, light chuckle broke the silence of the stone hall. All eyes turned to see Zong Shou approaching, sword in hand, one step at a time. Each footfall was quicker than the last, gradually accelerating into a swift stride, his face set in an unreadable, knowing grin. His pupils were dilated, unfocused, as if consciousness had momentarily slipped away.

Yet, in that moment, everyone felt an overwhelming sense of dread wash over them.

They sensed that Zong Shou was currently dangerous to an extreme degree.

Xuan Yuan-tong’s expression grew icy. He silently drew an iron mace hanging at his waist.

He knew that in this state, he could not stop the sword with his bare hands!

And in the very next instant, Zong Shou’s figure surged forward with explosive, ultimate speed!

If his movement before was that of a gentle, divine breeze, now he was a roaring gale, plunging down upon them.

The sword light flashed, striking directly downwards. It met the iron mace with a crisp ding, instantly unleashing surging qi and sweeping arcs of lightning.

Xuan Yuan-tong frowned and stepped back, venting all the force of the impact into the ground beneath him. A deep pit instantly formed in the hardened Gang Rock floor.

Zong Shou’s sword, however, only retreated momentarily before piercing forward again, aiming straight for the face. Xuan Yuan-tong remained unshaken, supremely calm, and once again held his mace horizontally before his eyes.

Immediately, an intensely sharp, crushing force slammed into him. He had no choice but to retreat again, causing the flagstones beneath him to shatter anew. Gang wind surged, and sword energy scattered, shearing off countless fragments of rock from the ceiling.

And these two blows were only the beginning. The clash between sword and mace, which began with scattered ding, ding sounds like metal being forged, soon escalated into a furious tempest. The crisp, sharp ringing became incessant, like rain battering banana leaves—the back of one strike already echoing before the first had faded.

At this moment, Zong Shou seemed transformed into a human storm, wildly swinging and stabbing his sword. Though seemingly devoid of pattern, every thrust forced Xuan Yuan-tong into a purely defensive posture, unable to counterattack.

Almost every strike compelled Xuan Yuan-tong to take a step back, crushing another flagstone.

It was an almost perfect reversal of the preceding scene, where Xuan Yuan-tong had been like a massive rolling boulder, forcing Zong Shou back with overwhelming pressure.

But now, before the storm embodied by Zong Shou, though Xuan Yuan-tong remained like a mighty mountain peak, under the ravages of this tempest, he was forced to yield ground, his stance beginning to waver!

"Impossible! Absolutely impossible!"

Xuan Yuan-tong maintained steady footwork, strategically falling back step by measured step.

In those tens of breaths, he parried ninety strikes and retreated ninety paces! He had almost returned to the exact spot where the battle had begun.

At this point, Xuan Yuan-tong’s gaze was filled with shock and confusion. He cared little for victory; the stronger and more ferocious Zong Shou's swordsmanship became, the happier and more pleased he was.

What perplexed him was that throughout this rapid exchange, Zong Shou's swordplay seemed to defy the very logic of martial arts!

Even with dual cultivation of Spirit and Martial arts, even with the integration of Spirit and Martial power allowing Zong Shou’s sword to match his own strength, Zong Shou’s physical body was still merely at the initial stage of the Earth Meridian, a nascent Innate Martial Master!

In almost every exchange now, both men were putting forth their full strength. Normally, Zong Shou should not be able to sustain such immense power for long. The accumulated recoil from each strike should be enough to shatter his body!

How was he maintaining such high-intensity sword force? And why did he show no signs of weakening, but instead seemed to grow stronger with every sword strike?

He realized that the vital energy he expended seemed to be stripped away with every clash against Zong Shou’s Thunderfang Sword.

Furthermore, the sword force was terrifyingly focused, rotating at high speed like an awl, making it utterly bizarre.

Xuan Yuan-tong paused briefly, observing closely. He noticed that the recoil force seemed to be caught the instant his own energy met Zong Shou’s blade. The centrifugal force generated by the rapidly spinning water-fire spiral qi directly swept the energy outwards, dissipating the stray spiritual energy. Moreover, some of it was actually absorbed by Zong Shou, who, by some unknown method, instantly counter-attacked with it in the next moment!

Less than one-tenth of the actual recoil force reached Zong Shou’s body.

No wonder the Thunderfang Sword could continue to thrust and pierce relentlessly! No wonder the offense was a surging wave, each one stronger than the last! Fighting like this, wouldn't he become stronger the longer the battle went on, with no end in sight?

A tremor ran through his chest, and Xuan Yuan-tong suddenly felt a spasm deep within his abdomen. His heart sank to the bottom.

"This is too monstrous! He hasn't even stopped yet. What medicine did our young master take?"

Hu Zhong-yuan, also hiding in a corner shielding his niece from the wind, felt his own heart growing numb.

He had initially felt that Xuan Yuan-tong suppressing Zong Shou with brute force was akin to bullying. Now, he felt a strange sympathy for Xuan Yuan-tong.

Was this "Spirit-Martial Integration" truly that potent? So powerful that it surpassed the Ninth Rank, leaving Xuan Yuan-tong utterly defenseless?

One had to know that even without accessing true qi, Xuan Yuan-tong was still terrifyingly formidable. The deeper one cultivated Qi Refining techniques, the clearer one understood the gap between each major rank—it wasn't just about raw strength, bone structure, or blood energy, but also endurance, spiritual perception, and enhancement across all aspects. More importantly, there was the comprehension of the Dao. The gaps between the three major tiers—Innate Martial Master, Martial (Martial Ancestor), and Profound Martial—were immeasurable!

Even factoring in Zong Shou's spiritual attainment at the Night Roaming Realm, the disparity remained the same!

Thus, Hu Zhong-yuan instantly labeled Zong Shou as 'perverted.'

Meanwhile, delicate blood began to seep from Chu Xue’s ears. The ceaseless clang echoing through the hall, while having little effect on the Martial below the Fourth Meridian of the Earth Line within the hall, was excruciating for her, constantly assaulting her eardrums.

Fortunately, Hu Zhong-yuan was beside her, acting as a barrier shielding her front.

Although the hall experienced sudden shifts between hot and cold due to Zong Shou’s swordsmanship, she could still manage.

However, Chu Xue was still more worried about Zong Shou. She sighed, "The Young Master has probably gone berserk again!"

"Berserk?" Hu Zhong-yuan startled. "What does that mean? Has the Young Lord experienced this state before?"

"It means going into a violent black-out, it’s a term the Young Master taught me!" Chu Xue explained casually. "The last time was at Dan Ling Mountain, seemingly because Uncle Yin and I were insulted. The Young Master was furious. In the end, he cut down all eighteen wooden puppets of the Lingyun Sect and then drew twelve Celestial Talismans. It felt so satisfying..."

"Wooden puppets? Celestial Talismans?"

Hu Zhong-yuan was initially puzzled, then gasped sharply, sucking in a breath of cold air: "They mean the Ming Jian Platform and the Tian Fu Platform!"

He exchanged a look of utter disbelief with Zong Yuan beside him.

Had those two platforms, which had stood in challenge for ten thousand years, boasting that the Little Heaven Sword Array and the Eighteen Celestial Talismans could never be broken, truly been dismantled? And by the Young Lord’s own hand?

Having followed Zong Shou for so long, Hu Zhong-yuan had never heard of such a thing. Why had the Lingyun Sect not released any news?

But given Zong Shou’s current state, it was entirely possible the Young Lord had indeed achieved this feat!

After a moment of shock, Hu Zhong-yuan let out a long breath. He felt his own composure was severely lacking and resolved to remain calm, no matter what shocking things his Young Lord did in the future.

Ding Yue watched for a moment longer before Chu Xue spoke again, "I estimate the Young Master is going to lose. It’s been nearly three quarters of an hour now. I hope he doesn't get severely beaten by City Lord Xuan Yuan afterward."

Hu Zhong-yuan nodded in agreement. Having accompanied Zong Shou for so long, he knew well that Zong Shou’s physical stamina was extremely fragile. He could be terrifyingly strong for within one hour, but once one or two hours passed, the entire person would collapse.

However, since Zong Shou also cultivated spiritual methods, even in that state, he was not someone who could be easily bullied. Controlling his sword with his soul, or even stronger techniques!

But now, being in a Spirit-Martial integration, he couldn't rely only on spiritual power. Xuan Yuan-tong’s strength was ultimately superior; his martial path was infinitely close to the Heavenly Rank. If Zong Shou could just hold out a little longer, he would be left entirely at Xuan Yuan-tong's mercy.

Picking up the Hu Ba Saber again, Hu Zhong-yuan poured his focus into it, watching the distance tensely, ready to act. Although he knew his intervention would likely be useless, he still had to try something.

He absolutely could not just stand by and watch Xuan Yuan-tong injure Zong Shou.

Zong Yuan, standing nearby, let out a cold laugh: "What are you nervous about? The Young Lord has already won!"

Seeing the stunned and scornful looks from Hu Zhong-yuan and Chu Xue, Zong Yuan twitched his eyebrows in annoyance, then scoffed dismissively, "Two fools, look down at their feet!"

Hu Zhong-yuan frowned, following Zong Yuan's line of sight. Surprise flashed in his eyes.

Xuan Yuan-tong’s footing, which had been heavy and methodical before, was now gradually becoming erratic—his mountain-like posture was shaking, loosening, collapsing!

The iron mace in his hand was responding clumsily, completely lacking its previous composure.

For some inexplicable reason, Hu Zhong-yuan recalled Xuan Yuan-tong's earlier mention of his true qi malfunctioning. Could the flaw in his technique have finally manifested?

The sound of striking metal continued to ring through the hall, but it was growing disjointed, the rhythm completely altered. After just ten more strikes, Xuan Yuan-tong was forced back against the rear wall of the stone hall. And Zong Shou’s clear, sharp voice rang out once more.

"Let go!"

A faint trace of blood sprayed as the tip of the Thunderfang Sword suddenly pierced Xuan Yuan-tong’s left hand. With a slight exertion of force, the iron mace was flung away.

Xuan Yuan-tong leaned against the wall, his face ashen, while Zong Shou's sword was raised again, poised to strike downwards swiftly.

Large beads of cold sweat instantly popped out on Hu Zhong-yuan’s forehead.

Hasn't our Young Lord already beaten Tan Tao, Luo Yan, and Zhu Junhou today? Does he intend to beat up his own father-in-law today as well?

Father, what is to become of this?

He rushed forward rapidly, filled with worry, but then he saw the gathered Heaven and Earth spiritual energy around Zong Shou rapidly dissipate. His thin frame seemed to suddenly lose all vitality, and he pitched forward, collapsing directly into Xuan Yuan-tong’s arms.