Letting his hands hang freely by his side, Xinzi cracked his neck and bolted towards Xia Hu. The monk became a red flash of light, blurring across the air as he aimed for his foe. Sinking his feet into the ground, Xia Hu maintained his battle stance—neither advancing nor retreating. Raising his bandaged right fist, Xinzi threw a frontal punch at Xia Hu’s chest. The swordsman foresaw the move, and his sword lopped on Xinzi’s shoulder.

Allowing himself to tumble down, Xinzi let the sword slash fly past him. Its whistle grazed his bald head, but before the monk’s burly frame could crash down, Xia Hu kicked at his face. Undisturbed, Xinzi threw his hands out—the left at Xia Hu’s leg, the right towards the ground. One hand blocked Xia Hu’s kick, the other supported Xinzi’s weight. The monk’s Blood Energy poured forth, wreaking havoc in Xia Hu’s leg. Electrifying tremors shook up the swordsman’s body. Losing balance, he reeled back. Xinzi wouldn’t have it, and with an overbearing muscle move fit only for a mysterious beast, yanked Xia Hu off the ground!

Rising alongside his sworn brother, Xinzi smiled at Xia Hu, then slammed him into the ground. Loud cracks resounded, billowing dust and flying rubble shot up. Xia Hu bit his teeth to blood, channeling his cultivation base and Soul Force to remain conscious despite the numbing blow. Xinzi liked the spirit and rewarded it by lifting Xia Hu off the ground for another powerslam. The swordmaster wouldn’t have it and, defying the awkward angle, thrust his sword at Xinzi. With each thrust, green sword beams short forth, aiming to pierce through Xinzi’s skull.

Xinzi canted his head left and right, and despite the range and angle, avoided each of the incoming beams—albeit by a narrow margin. Spinning 180, Xinzi hurled Xia Hu at a molten wall. Xia Hu’s masterful control of gravity kicked in, and he whirled right back to his feet. By the time he’d landed, Xinzi’s fists were crashing in his face. Xia Hu met them with a barrage of spontaneous sword slashes, and the two dove into a dance of trading blows and side steps—ducking, bending and colliding with unusual muscle reflexes that showed heaps of battle experience.

For a moment, Xia Hu was perplexed. As far as he knew, Xinzi received no formal battle training. Although he’d experienced a decent amount of fights in the Ice-Fire cave, they couldn’t possibly be the source of such martial excellence. In the audience, the Clear Heart monastery monks thought the same but blamed the display on things Xinzi likely experienced after leaving them. Only Qingxin knew that, considering his background, there were certain things that Xinzi didn’t have to learn.

As the fight progressed, Xia Hu lost ground. His movement speed far exceeded Xinzi’s, but the monk’s explosiveness, reflexes and attacking speed more than made up for it. Aware that he couldn’t let Xinzi control the pace, Xia Hu propelled himself out of Xinzi’s range and soared into the sky. Within his dantian, the Qi Spiral formed by thousands of Spiritual Drops kicked in, 72 green flying swords formed around Xia Hu, before storming Xinzi’s defenses with a barrage of raining swords.

Recognizing the threat, Xinzi joined his hands in a prayer sign. His cultivation base, Blood Energy and Retribution Seal erupted all together—casting an impregnable shield that withstood Xia Hu’s barrage effortlessly. In that instant, it became obvious that by relying on his cultivation base and sword mastery alone, Xia Hu couldn’t contend with the combination of Xinzi’s Blood Energy and cultivation base.

Xia Hu no longer held anything back. The Green Immortal Sword Art rotated to the limits, forest-colored twisters formed and pervaded the air, concealing scores of swords that gleamed with a sanguine shine. Blood-red winds surrounded Xia Hu as he paired the Green Immortal Sword Art with Xue Yuanshao’s Desolate Sword Art for one fatal strike.

“You’re already using your Qi Spiral? Tss, tss, tss. I didn’t expect tha...’’ Xinzi’s words trailed off.

Xia Hu raised his sword at the sky. A miniature vortex flew out of his dantian, hovering above him as its spirals coiled endlessly. A Qi Spiral of 100 rotations took shape, and Xinzi’s eyes widened in disbelief.

“He cultivated 10,000 Spiritual Drops with a human body? This doesn’t make sense. Is his dantian elastic or something? It’s almost as if the cultivation world’s foremost inventor was taking a nap in his soul—only waking up to provide him with limit-defying secrets… Wait, Desolate Sword Art, world foremost inventor...the other Xue?” The Desolate Sword Art was Xue Yuanshao’s trademark skill. His name and portrait flashed by Xinzi’s mind, but right afterward, he denied the possibility.

“Impossible. He was killed by Taiyang elders during the Great Desolation war. Their Solar Flame wouldn’t spare his soul. Did he just get the inheritance? No, Xia Hu’s talent is limited. Without a preeminent expert to guide his studies, even if all these secret skills appeared before him, he wouldn’t have been able to comprehend them. Xue Yuanshao was as deceitful as it gets and only trusted three people—two are dead, the other sits in Taiyang Yuan’s court. Xue Yuanshao aside, no one could pass on those tricks to Xia Hu. Moreover...” Xinzi’s eyes studied the green winds, and he nibbled his lower lip.

“Fine. Let’s crack that mystery once and for all.” Settling on the next course of action, Xinzi activated his Qi Spiral. The 109 rotations swirled at extreme speed, pushing the monk’s cultivation base to the limit. The Frigid Flames of Xinzi’s Void Spiritual Root gushed out, sheltering him in a shroud of blue fire. Xinzi stretched out his hands—welcoming Xia Hu with open arms.

Undeterred, Xia Hu aimed at Xinzi. The green and blood winds gathered around his blade, merged at the sword tip, and wrapped the masked swordsman in a duo of formidable forces. Leaning forward, Xia Hu lunged at Xinzi, becoming a meteor of green and blood squalls that left acute hissing sounds on their way to tear their target to shreds.

Initially, Xinzi merely planned to combine flames, blood energy, runes and cultivation base to absorb Xia Hu’s blow and end the fight by knockout. But as Xia Hu’s sword neared, the swordmaster’s voice rang in Xinzi’s mind.

“Xinzi, you must have had your doubts about my growth and formed conjectures of your own. Let me clear things up. A top expert has been helping me in the shadows. And that man...also helped me figure out who you are! The Endless Sea belongs to the Hengye. But the Earth is the Taiyang clan’s domain.

Xinzi, no matter where you rank in the Eternal Night Dynasty, a son of the Hengye clan should know the dangers of trespassing on Taiyang territory. I can’t help but wonder why you took such pains. Was it for Abbot Qingxin? Is that mysterious monk somehow connected to the Eternal Night Dynasty? Mhm...I wonder what the Taiyang clan would do with this info.”

Xia Hu’s mental message sent Xinzi into shock. His body shook, his limbs wavered, and Xia Hu’s sword shifted targets, now aiming for his right arm.

As far as Xia Hu was concerned, if he could get a clean strike at Xinzi’s bandages and reveal his mutant limb, the White Immortal sect would not only disqualify him instantly—but throw him out to avoid disastrous repercussions. After all, no eastern faction would dare to go against the laws of the Eastern Imperial court. And these very laws forbade any connection to Monstrous Beasts.

An eminent expert in tune with current affairs would have known that of the four continents, only three still obeyed Taiyang rule. The Western Continent had long fallen to the Hengye, and others were starting to consider their options. Thus, only past experts that vanished during the Great Desolation War—people like Xue Yuanshao—could make this mistake. Due to that unintentional error, Xinzi didn’t doubt Xia Hu’s words, and for a second, the monk lost his focus.

Xia Hu didn’t need more. His sword cleft upward, tearing Xinzi’s bandages to reveal his mutant limb. But a mutant limb, Xia Hu didn’t find. Instead, a flawless and lustrous human arm awaited, stunning Xia Hu with a spell of confusion.

In that instant, the clouds transmitting the events to the audience through the formation malfunctioned—cutting the outside world from what went on within the yang platform. Foul, dark-purple qi exploded from Xinzi’s dantian—fueling him with a tyrannical might that forced Xia Hu on his knees.

“Evil Qi!” Xue Yuanshao realized, far too late. Xinzi’s Evil Qi took charge, adding to his qi and blood as he spun towards the paralyzed Xia Hu. From the corner of his eye, Xia Hu caught a glimpse of Xinzi’s face. A dreadful, wrathful look at odds with the monk’s merry nature awaited—and regret welled up Xia Hu’s chest.

*BANG*

A brutal, berserk hook slammed through Xia Hu’s metallic mask—shattering it instantly. The swordsman’s vision blurred. His brain malfunctioned, and as he attempted to get a grip, another punch crashed into his face. Xinzi didn’t care for the riveting looks his hook punch exposed and battered it without mercy. Akin to the barrelling of loose chariots, the debilitating blow sent Xia Hu flying across the air—with his five senses failing him.

Still Xinzi didn’t relent—appeared before Xia Hu, and assailed him with an unhinged barrage of murderous fists!