Over half a month had passed since the earth-shaking battle at Bianhong City.
Li Zhexian and Dugu Bo had politely declined the Cloth-Robe Marquis' invitation to accompany him to the imperial capital.
Instead, after assisting Star Luo in retaking Wangtian City, they finally set off on their return to Heaven Dou.
The moment they stepped through the city gates—
A thunderous clamor of drums erupted.
The citizens of Heaven Dou lined the streets on both sides, welcoming the two heroes home.
The streets remained packed for two entire days.
Only when the noise finally faded
did Li Zhexian truly have a moment of peace.
He set up a banquet in the small courtyard of his home, inviting several elders and close friends.
It was early spring.
The Seven Treasure Glazed Tile Clan's special new tea—"Frosted Spring Rhyme"—had just been harvested.
Ning Fengzhi brewed the tea with smooth, graceful movements, smiling:
"This victory…"
"…was entirely thanks to Zhexian and Senior Dugu."
"The two of you repelled the Spirit Empire, not only reversing the crisis, but securing Heaven Dou the dominant position in its alliance with Star Luo."
With the continent divided among three great powers, whenever one side grew strong, the other two naturally joined hands.
Yet alliances also had implicit hierarchies—an invisible struggle for the leading voice.
In troubled times, whoever seized the initiative would wield greater leverage over the board.
"Ah, I'm ashamed." Dugu Bo took the teacup and shook his head with a bitter smile:
"In that battle with Yue Guan and Ghost Douluo, Zhexian contributed far more than I."
"While I was locked in fierce combat with Ghost,
Zhexian had already forced Yue Guan into a desperate corner."
"Even Yue Guan and Ghost's Martial Soul Fusion Ability could not stop him."
"Oh?"
Chen Xin, Feng Bailong, and the others looked toward Li Zhexian—who was slightly embarrassed—with surprise.
"Tell us in detail."
They too had heard the storytellers' popular tale of the "Legend of Sword Wine."
But how could that compare to hearing it from someone who was truly there?
After a sip of warm tea, which seemed to bring fragrance to his words, Dugu Bo grew more animated and smiled at Li Zhexian, who was about to decline:
"Zhexian, we're all elders and friends here.
What's there to be shy about?"
Ning Fengzhi and Feng Bailong laughed in agreement.
Even the normally stern Chen Xin raised the corner of his mouth in a faint smile.
With so many Titled Douluo present, Zhu Zhuqing, Xiao Wu, Dugu Yan, Ye Lingling, and the other juniors had been sitting stiffly in silence,
but now they couldn't help clapping their hands in anticipation.
And so—
With his uniquely raspy voice, Dugu Bo recounted the battle.
His thin features, rising and falling cadence, and the steam curling above the teacup gave him the air of a seasoned storyteller.
The elegant courtyard grew silent; petals fell with the spring drizzle; the fragrance of tea lingered.
His hoarse voice unfolded like a painting, recreating that day's fierce struggle.
Gu Rong and Yu Yuanzhen grew solemn, Spirit Power faintly swirling around them, as if dragons and thunder rumbled within.
They were already calculating in their minds—
if they had been there, what would they have done?
The two supreme swordsmen, however, were more restrained.
Chen Xin's eyes gleamed.
The black silk blindfold covering Feng Bailong's eyes fluttered without wind.
Zhu Zhuqing, Xiao Wu, and the others could not contain their gasps.
"…thus, after Yue Guan and Ghost fell, Zhexian unleashed a single sword, cutting down a thousand Spirit Masters in one stroke…"
Zheng—!
Zheng—!
Just as the words fell—
Two clear sword cries split the air.
Everyone in the courtyard stiffened in shock.
They all turned their heads toward the sound—
Only to see—
Chen Xin and Feng Bailong were now surrounded by surging sword intent.
A killing intent rolled off them, chilling even the drifting plum rain.
"Zhexian, it has been several years since our last sword duel."
"Today, let us cross swords again."
Chen Xin's arms lowered gently like resting pines, five fingers curling inward.
An ancient, dark-red sword slowly condensed into being within his palm.
With a sharp metallic ring, a wave of fierce sword qi exploded outward, reducing every plum blossom within three meters to dust.
Stimulated by the Seven Kill Sword's intent—
Or perhaps…
The Qinglian Sword could no longer suppress its eagerness to answer the challenge.
Li Zhexian's brow glimmered with a faint golden sword mark, flickering in and out.
A three-foot longsword, clear as glazed crystal and flowing with pale golden radiance, appeared before him.
He reached out and grasped it.
Immediately, visions surged around him—starlight drifting, ice and fire intertwining, gentle wind circling, thunder roaring… even fallen plum blossoms fluttered back onto their branches.
These were manifestations of his nine sword intents.
Clang—!
Li Zhexian's gaze locked with Chen Xin's, colliding like metal on stone, sparks flying.
The next moment—
The two of them leapt into the sky simultaneously.
The ringing of clashing steel echoed endlessly.
Ning Fengzhi, Dugu Bo, and the others watched with solemn expressions.
Even for those who were not sword users, witnessing a duel between top swordmasters was immensely enlightening.
"Uh…"
Yu Feng glanced at Feng Bailong, who was still seated firmly where he had been, unmoving, and whispered:
"Senior Wind Sword… aren't you going?"
Just as he finished speaking—
A plum blossom landed atop Feng Bailong's head.
As Yu Feng, Yu Tianheng, and the others gasped, the blossom passed through Feng Bailong's body…
Feng Bailong's figure dissolved.
It had been a phantom.
He had long since drifted into the wind, quietly waiting for the moment to draw his sword.
...
High in the sky—
Li Zhexian and Chen Xin's sword lights crisscrossed wildly,
drawing cries of astonishment from the citizens of Heaven Dou below.
But the two remained utterly focused, fully absorbed in their duel.
In this match, they compared neither Spirit Power nor Spirit Rings—
only pure sword intent.
Whoosh—!
A streak of blood-red sword intent tore through the air, lunging straight at Li Zhexian.
With his current physical strength, he could barely keep up, raising his sword to block.
Clang—!
The collision shattered the surrounding sea of clouds.
Li Zhexian and Chen Xin used the force to slide back a hundred meters
before once again launching toward each other.
"Qinglian Sword Song — First Form: Shaking Light (Yaoguang)!"
A thread of starlight descended—
Settling silently upon the edge of the Qinglian Sword.
Already crystalline like glass, the blade now shone with an even colder, sharper brilliance.
Li Zhexian stepped forward, slashing toward Chen Xin.
Chen Xin responded with another stroke of blood-red sword light, its killing intent fierce to the extreme.
Clang!
Clang!
Clang!
The metallic ringing never ceased.
Their figures moved like lightning, crossing and recrossing, trails of sword light tearing through the sky.
Li Zhexian's sword techniques flowed endlessly, ever-changing.
Each surge of sword intent stirred the heavens, causing strange phenomena to appear in the clouds.
Chen Xin countered with pure Seven Kill Wword intent—
each strike carrying the force of "one sword to break all techniques."
But starting from the Seventh Form of the Qinglian Sword Song…
Chen Xin had to swing two swords to withstand one of Li Zhexian's.
"Qinglian Sword Song — Eighth Form: Purifying Glaze."
As Li Zhexian spoke, his sword moved.
A beam of sword light as clear as washed crystal water swept forth.
When it clashed with the vicious blood-red sword intent—
It purified it instantly.
The bloody color dimmed and faded.
Chen Xin frowned deeply.
"What intent is this?"
"Even my Seven Kill Sword Intent… can be purified?"
Li Zhexian was about to answer—
when he suddenly sensed currents of wind converging sharply toward one point.
"You two seem to be enjoying yourselves. Allow this old man to offer a sword as well."
Before Feng Bailong's words even fully landed—
Two azure sword lights shredded the clouds—
Slashing toward both Li Zhexian and Chen Xin in an instant…