The sky grew increasingly gloomy, and the faint scent of moisture lingered in the air.
"This sword is called 'Zunlong' (Respect the Dragon)."
Jiang Yu seemed in no hurry to strike. Instead, he leisurely drew his sword and began introducing it.
"Uh, were you about to say that losing to this sword would be my honor?" Li Mo suddenly interjected.
"..." Jiang Yu's lips parted slightly. That was indeed what he had intended to say.
But admitting it now would make him look rather foolish.
"Actually, there's something I've wanted to say for a while," Li Mo sighed. "The names you come up with are kind of embarrassing."
Hum—
The Zunlong Sword trembled faintly.
Jiang Yu tightened his grip on the hilt.Why are you listening to him?!
"A country bumpkin like you wouldn’t recognize true nobility!"
As his voice rang out, it carried the resonance of a dragon's roar, echoing with imperial majesty throughout the inner city. Many felt cold sweat trickle down their backs, their knees weakening as if compelled to kneel.
But Li Mo’s blazing will—his Yi Hun (Intent Soul)—only burned brighter, like dry kindling meeting wildfire. Instead of being suppressed, he stood even taller, unyielding.
A clash of wills!
Without a doubt, Jiang Yu had opened all nine Guan Shen (Observing Divinity) apertures, placing him at a higher cultivation stage.
Yet, he couldn’t exert the slightest suppression over Li Mo’s will. Instead, he was the one left feeling stifled.
Seizing the initiative, Li Mo immersed his mind into the Tian Ren Shen Jian (Heavenly-Man Divine Sword). In his hand was a blade, and in his heart, another.
This strike was silent yet swift as a ghostly thunderbolt—a technique that never missed its mark, the infamous Wu Chang Tie (Wuchang Post), once used to assassinate kings and shake the heavens.
No contest of skill—only a fight to the death!
"Reckless bravery."
Jiang Yu’s eyes flickered briefly before settling into calm. Divine light surged from his chest, threads of silvery sharpness coiling around his blade.
For a moment, this famed weapon’s edge rivaled that of a divine armament!
His sword stance was direct, majestic, and overwhelmingly domineering, enveloping the entire arena—nowhere to dodge, no room to evade.
Clang—
Sword tips met. A storm of razor-sharp energy erupted, tearing through the folded space of the arena, causing violent tremors.
Blades of light scattered wildly, and surges of energy made it impossible for ordinary onlookers to discern who held the upper hand.
"Ah, I nearly forgot—this year’s Qianlong (Hidden Dragon) Conference is anything but ordinary."
Divine Monk Huaikong patted the back of his head and pointed a single finger.
Instantly, the shaking arena space stabilized.
Only then could the outcome be seen clearly.
Jiang Yu remained standing in place, his divine will as solid as a physical force, his robes undisturbed—still exuding the same indomitable aura.
"Tch. A sword style I just can’t grasp."
Li Mo’s feet hadn’t moved, but the recoil sent him skidding back several meters, leaving deep grooves in the ground.
The Ba Jiu Xuan Gong (Eight-Nine Divine Art) shielded his body, but he had only just begun mastering it. His blood and qi churned violently.
"With just the sword, at my current level, defeating him is nearly impossible."
Jiang Yu hadn’t earned his place as the top talent of the Qianlong Conference through reputation or royal privilege alone.
His Zhen Long Ti (True Dragon Body) was peerlessly formidable, every movement carrying draconic might. Within him lay the Di Jian Gu (Emperor’s Sword Bone), allowing his swordsmanship to reach perfection effortlessly.
If neither used divine arms, Li Mo could fight evenly with his hammer.
But now, he wielded a sword—while Jiang Yu still had the Ba Huang Liu He Yin (Eight Desolates and Six Harmonies Seal), ranked first among divine weapons, its mysteries unknown.
Unless...
Ooo—
The dragon’s roar resounded once more as a scaled, gleaming blade pierced through layers of resistance.
The Shang Fang Di Jian Shu (Imperial Swordplay) was a technique Jiang Yu had comprehended from his sword bone.
"Gao Shan Liu Shui (High Mountains Flowing Water)... That might’ve worked against the Jiang Yu from the last Qianlong Conference."
Ning Que, watching from below, thought to himself.
Even standing outside the arena, he felt suffocated—likely unable to lift his hands to play his zither before being forced to submit.
Let alone facing it head-on...
The moment the Imperial Swordplay was unleashed, Li Mo felt as if heavy shackles bound his limbs, his movements sluggish.
His five Xuan Dan (Mystic Pills) spun ceaselessly as he pushed the Eight-Nine Divine Art to its limits, shattering the restraints. Then, he wielded his hammer like a sword.
The Tian Qing (Heaven’s Descent) intent wasn’t as potent as when he used his hammer, yet the already darkened sky seemed to plummet downward.
Boom—
The first peal of thunder rolled from the clouds.
But this time, the thunder rose from the earth to the heavens.
The exchange ended in a stalemate.
"I think I’ve found a way... but it’s not enough yet. The Nine Swords of Dugu isn’t complete."
A flash of inspiration struck Li Mo’s mind.
Yet, just then—
"Using me as a whetstone to temper your will? Don’t blame me if your mortal blade snaps."
Jiang Yu seemed to have lost patience, abandoning his earlier resolve to defeat Li Mo without a divine weapon.
Hum—
In his left hand, a seal materialized midair—and with it, an indomitable, inexorable force.
The imperial destiny of Great Yu!
Jiang Yu’s figure suddenly seemed to loom larger, like a towering deity or demon.
With one downward press of the seal—
Did the world just expand?
No—it was Li Mo who now felt infinitesimally small.
He became like a name written on an imperial decree, already marked by the vermillion brush. Once the seal stamped down, life and death would no longer be his to decide.
Who could defy such authority?
Behind Li Mo, aside from the unyielding divine will of the Great Sage, a bright, silvery moon now emerged.
The moonlight bathed everything in its glow, slowing the world around him. Yet his thoughts remained sharp, as if steeped in the gentle radiance of the moon.
"Divine Sky Demon-Slaying!"
The earlier dark clouds had been harnessed by the Heaven-Slaying Hammer, transforming into a heavenly tribulation!
Li Mo's plan was simple—first, use the Heaven-Slaying Hammer to accumulate the tribulation's power, then guide it with the Divine Sky Demon-Slaying Sword!
Boom—
Thunderclaps shook the heavens.
A terrifying aura condensed, manifesting as bolts of divine lightning that tore through the sky and descended with overwhelming force.
How could a mere mortal emperor defy the will of heaven?
A thunderous strike landed on the Eight Desolates and Six Harmonies Seal, causing the imperial fortune imbued within it to tremble violently.
"It moved! The Eight Desolates and Six Harmonies Seal loosened!"
"Without the divine weapon's support, could Li Mo actually win with his sword and defeat the top-ranked Hidden Dragon?"
"He even knows such terrifying sword techniques—commanding heavenly tribulation..."
The onlookers were stunned. Everything had happened too fast.
First, the imperial might had dominated the battlefield, dictating life and death. Then came the divine sword summoning lightning, reducing the world to stark black and white.
This strike might just decide the victor...
"Hmph!"
Suddenly, a cold snort echoed from the imperial city.
"Repeatedly provoking heavenly tribulations—do you take me for a fool?"
As the voice faded, the raging lightning froze mid-air, immobilized.
No matter how formidable the Divine Sky Demon-Slaying technique was, its wielder was still Li Mo—a mere Divine Observation cultivator.
He had yet to merge his inner and outer worlds, nor had he forged a Dharma Body.
The lightning dissipated into nothingness, leaving only the hollow echo of thunder—a grand spectacle with little substance.
"Was that... Qian Gong?" Xie Yiding frowned.
Du Wufeng, ever blunt, growled, "He kept silent all this time, only to interfere now in a duel between juniors? How shameless!"
The crowd below fell into uneasy silence.
Everyone could see it—Qian Gong's excuse about forbidding tribulations in the capital was just a pretense to tip the scales.
But the commoners and martial artists dared not speak up. Offending a seventh-realm imperial elder in the heart of the empire? Only a fool would risk it.
Unless...
"We're done here! That old bastard is cheating!" Shang Qinqing flung her melon seeds to the ground in disgust.
"Disgraceful! Ptooey!" Murong Xiao spat toward the sky before ducking behind Divine Monk Huaikong.
"Brother Li, forget it. If he’s this desperate, let him have his hollow victory!" Xiao Qin shouted toward the stage.
"Junior Sister Ying, say something!"
"Yeah, we’re not playing their rigged game anymore."
The group turned to Ying Bing, only to find her silent, her delicate brows furrowed, the divine will of the Supreme Yin manifesting behind her.
On the stage—
With the heavenly tribulation suppressed, the Eight Desolates and Six Harmonies Seal's overwhelming pressure resurged.
"Ephemeral Slash... Severing Injustice... Dragon-Slaying Swordplay..."
One after another, the techniques of the commoner's sword flickered in his mind, each shining brilliantly.
Yet even mastered to perfection, none could break this deadlock—unless he immediately resorted to the hammer treasure.
"Li Mo, focus."
Suddenly, a familiar, soothing voice whispered in his ear.
He obeyed without hesitation, though he had done so countless times before.
But this time was different.
Strands of sword intent came alive, clearer than ever.
Visions flashed before his eyes—countless figures who had left their mark within the divine sword.
What he saw now was the world through Ying Bing's eyes as she wielded her blade.