Howling Wind Ridge, where the wind shrieked like weeping ghosts, was now completely enveloped in a deathly silence. Thousands of eyes, without a single sound, converged upon the two figures facing each other in the center of the vast arena. All grievances and struggles seemed to have been set aside; only this fateful confrontation remained.
Lanh Thien Phong stood there, billowing black qi wrapping around his entire body. The humiliation of having his demonic arts broken, along with his initial shock, had quickly been replaced by a frenzied wrath and killing intent. He simply could not accept it. The person he had viewed as a mere rat in the gutter, the one who had vanished for two entire years, actually dared to stand openly and honorably before him today, challenging him to a life-and-death duel.
"Tran Kien!" Lanh Thien Phong roared, his voice hoarse with hatred. "Two years ago, you were lucky enough to escape. Today, I will let you know what it means to experience a living hell!"
He spoke no further. He knew that against someone like Tran Kien, all schemes and machinations could be seen through. Only absolute power could crush him.
"Myriad Ghosts Devouring the Soul!"
Lanh Thien Phong forcefully waved his Hundred Ghosts Fan. This time, it was not hundreds, but thousands of pitch-black phantoms that flew out from the fan, carrying mournful shrieks that could shake the very soul. They coalesced in mid-air, transforming into a gargantuan, fiendish skull that opened its dark maw wide and lunged toward Tran Kien. The resentful qi was so thick that it caused the very sky above Howling Wind Ridge to dim by several degrees.
Facing such an earth-shattering attack, Tran Kien did not show the slightest bit of panic.
He stood there, his feet shoulder-width apart, as steadfast as a millennium-old pine tree. He did not retreat, nor did he dodge. He merely slowly, very slowly, drew the matte-black saber from his back.
The moment the saber was unsheathed, an aura completely different from Lanh Thien Phong's erupted from his body.
It was neither cold nor sinister. It was radiant, righteous, composed, and as heavy as a mountain. The Foundation Establishment stage Primordial Qi, refined by the Dragon Veins and the Lac Viet legacy—just how pure and majestic was it?
He did not flourish the saber, nor did he use any complex techniques. He only performed a single motion.
Slash.
A straightforward slash.
"Saber Intent — A Thousand Hammers, A Hundred Refinements!"
This saber strike possessed no dazzling blade light, no terrifying shrieks of the wind. It looked incredibly ordinary, like the strike of a blacksmith's hammer pounding upon a steel billet. But hidden within it was an unshakeable will. A will of tempering, a will to destroy all evil demons, a will to cleanse all filth!
A faint, golden strand of Saber Intent, carrying the aura of the sun, of the furnace, and of the righteous qi of heaven and earth, flew from the blade, clashing head-on with the fiendish skull.
"BOOOOOOOOOM!!!"
An earth-shattering explosion echoed throughout Howling Wind Ridge, causing the entire mountain to tremble.
The fiendish skull, formed from thousands of wronged souls, upon colliding with that radiant and righteous Saber Intent, reacted like ice and snow meeting a scorching fire.
"Ah... ah... ah..."
Miserable shrieks rang out, but this time they were not born of ferocity, but of agony and liberation. The black qi and resentful qi were incinerated and purified by the scorching Saber Intent, disintegrating in massive chunks. The gargantuan, fiendish skull, in the span of just a few breaths, was cleaved into ashes by Tran Kien's single strike, vanishing without a trace.
Howling Wind Ridge once again descended into a deathly silence. Thousands of people were stunned, their jaws dropping, unable to believe what they had just witnessed.
One slash! Just a single slash! It had completely shattered Lanh Thien Phong's ultimate demonic art!
"No... impossible!" Lanh Thien Phong screamed in terror. The demonic qi within his body convulsed, and a trail of fresh blood trickled from the corner of his mouth. "My demonic art... how could it..."
He didn't understand. He simply could not comprehend it. Why was it that his Cultivation base was clearly higher, his demonic qi more profound, yet it had been so easily neutralized by a single slash from his opponent?
Little did he know, Tran Kien's Primordial Qi was innately the nemesis of all evil demons. Now, having fused with the Saber Intent - A Thousand Hammers, A Hundred Refinements, and the "Guardian" aura of the Solar Guardian, it presented an absolute, fundamental suppression against his demonic arts!
"Is that the extent of your abilities?" Tran Kien said coldly. The matte-black saber in his hand vibrated with a faint hum, as if it, too, was excited by the battle. "If that is the case, then it is my turn."
He did not give Lanh Thien Phong any further opportunities. Channeling power into his legs, his body shot forward like an arrow.
"Saber Art — Raging Fire!"
The saber in his hand was no longer composed; it became as berserk as a raging flame. The matte-black blade light, shrouded in a layer of golden Primordial Qi, formed a storm of saber arts that enveloped Lanh Thien Phong.
"Damn it!"
Terrified, Lanh Thien Phong hastily raised the Hundred Ghosts Fan to defend himself.
"Clang! Clang! Clang! Clang!"
The sound of clashing metal rang out continuously like a torrential downpour. Lanh Thien Phong, who had been incomparably arrogant just moments ago, was now forced to retreat continuously by Tran Kien, only managing to defend himself in a sorry state. Every single one of Tran Kien's slashes carried a scorching, radiant physical force, shocking his demonic qi into endless disintegration and leaving his arms numb.
He had completely fallen into a disadvantage!
"He's won! He's definitely going to win!" Down below, Thuong Quan Van clenched his fists tightly, his handsome face filled with excitement and admiration.
The Sixth Elder of the Azure Cloud Sect stroked his beard, a peculiar light flashing in his ancient eyes. This saber art... did not just possess form, but also 'intent'. Just what kind of terrifying karmic fortune had this brat encountered over the past two years?
The more Tran Kien fought, the more vigorous he became. Everything he had painstakingly cultivated over the past two years was now bursting forth in a fluid and tempestuous manner.
"Die!"
He roared, finding an opening in his opponent's defenses. The matte-black saber in his hand suddenly changed its trajectory, shifting from tyrannical to cunning, tracing a deadly arc as it slashed directly toward Lanh Thien Phong's fan-wielding wrist.
"SLASH!"
Fresh blood sprayed out. Lanh Thien Phong's entire right hand holding the fan had been completely severed by Tran Kien's blade!
"AHHHHHH!!!"
Lanh Thien Phong let out a miserable shriek like a slaughtered pig, clutching his blood-spewing stump as he staggered backward. Pain and fear had completely overtaken his mind. He no longer possessed even a shred of courage to continue fighting.
He turned around, intending to flee.
But would Tran Kien give him that opportunity?
"This debt," Tran Kien said, his voice as cold as the ice of the netherworld. "Must be paid in blood."
His figure blurred, and he appeared directly behind Lanh Thien Phong. The matte-black saber in his hand, without the slightest hesitation, was raised high into the air.
The blade light flashed.
And a head, bearing an expression of terror and unwillingness, flew high up into the heavens.