Above the town of Yan, Pi Yan and Pi Batian oversaw the battle unfolding below them, smiling in satisfaction.

“The Fengs’ overall strength might have improved with the Lies’ assistance, but the Pi family still has the highest concentration of seasoned swordsmen,” Pi Batian said. “Ju Tian’s a top-grade fighter that I nurtured with huge quantities of spirit crystals, and even the Fengs wouldn’t be able to defeat him so easily. Just one more victory, and he’ll win this challenge.”

“The only ones who can defeat Ju Tian are Feng Bo and Li Mo,” Pi Yan replied. “Feng Bo’s a strong cultivator, and even I’m barely a match for him. Feng Yanyang will surely leave him to deal with me, so the last challenger from the Feng family has to be Li Mo. Is your ambush ready?”

“Don’t worry, Father. Everything is prepared, and I’m just waiting for Li Mo to show up. Li Mo and Yun Ruoyan harbor deep feelings for one another, so as long as we catch just one of them, the other will naturally obey our every command. I can’t believe I’m only realizing this now.”

“In that case, we have to catch at least one of them,” Pi Yan said, staring straight at Yun Ruoyan, Li Mo, and Feng Yicheng, who were watching the battle from the sidelines.

Feng Yicheng was wearing an overcoat that Feng Yanyang frequently wore, and his head was covered by a hood. Pi Yan was unable to see his face clearly. “Tian’er, even after so many days, Feng Yanyang still seems to be hale and hearty. It seems as though Feng Mian didn’t act according to your plan.”

“Father, have you noticed that Feng Mian isn’t watching the duels?” Pi Batian asked.

“Indeed.” Pi Yan sucked in a breath. “Could it be that—”

“There are three possibilities,” Pi Batian began. “First, that Feng Mian didn’t take action, but this possibility is limited. If he hadn’t taken any action, he would surely be with his father watching the battle.”

“As for the other two possibilities?” Pi Yan asked.

“Second, Feng Mian tried to assassinate Feng Yanyang but failed, and is being imprisoned. Third, Feng Mian injured Feng Yanyang but failed to kill him, causing Feng Yanyang to cower and not dare to reveal his face.”

“Based on what we’re seeing, the third possibility seems the most likely.” Pi Yan began to smile.

However, neither Pi Yan nor Pi Batian were close to the truth: that Feng Yanyang had already perished, and Feng Yicheng was taking his place.

Li Mo and Yun Ruoyan sat behind Feng Yicheng and Feng Bo as they watched the duels.

“It seems as though I’ll have to be the final challenger,” Feng Bo murmured.

“You can’t go,” Feng Yicheng quickly rejected the idea. “Uncle, you’re our trump card. If we send you out now, the Pi family might quickly establish countermeasures against you.” He turned to Li Mo. “Brother Li, would you be willing to step in?”

That Ju Tian was only a first-rank sword saint, but Li Mo was a second-rank sword saint. For Li Mo to beat Ju Tian wouldn’t be a difficult task. He glanced at Yun Ruoyan, about to accept, when murmurs came from the Feng soldiers.

“Someone else has gone to challenge Ju Tian!”

“Who? Even Old Lin lost to him!”

“It—It’s Zhuo Yifeng!” someone exclaimed. “Could he be stronger than Old Lin? That can’t be right!”

“Zhuo Yifeng… isn’t he only a ninth-rank blademaster?” Qin Feng murmured. He had been standing together with Zhuo Yifeng, who had suddenly stepped up before he could do anything about it. Qin Feng called him back from behind, but Zhuo Yifeng didn’t respond.

Worried, Qin Feng turned back to Li Mo and Yun Ruoyan.

“Zhuo Yifeng!” Yun Ruoyan couldn’t help standing up and looking toward him. As if detecting her gaze from afar, Zhuo Yifeng turned around to look toward her. Their eyes met. Yun Ruoyan’s expression was complex; after being confessed to and forcefully kissed by Zhuo Yifeng, this was Yun Ruoyn’s first time seeing him again.

These last few days, she had been thinking about the kiss. The whole encounter made her feel strange, as though the Zhuo Yifeng of that night wasn’t the Zhuo Yifeng she used to know, but someone else entirely.

“What’s Zhuo Yifeng doing now?!” Feng Yicheng’s voice sounded irate. “Given his cultivation, how could he be any match for that swordsman? Isn’t he just asking for death?”

Li Mo was equally confused: as far as he knew, Zhuo Yifeng didn’t often act on impulse.

“I know a little of Zhuo Yifeng’s personality,” Feng Bo began. “He’s not reckless, and he wouldn’t act unless he was confident of his success. Let’s watch and see for now; if he can’t handle his opponent, then we’ll step in.”

“That brat…!” Pi Batian was equally surprised to see Zhuo Yifeng step up. “If you want to die, I’ll grant you your wish!”

“That trap’s left for Li Mo, and if not Li Mo, then at least Yun Ruoyan,” Pi Yan reminded him. “Ju Tian alone will be enough to deal with this lad.”

“Yes, Father,” Pi Batian replied. “I’ll have the trap removed.” As Pi Batian walked down the town walls, Zhuo Yifeng and Ju Tian got ready for their duel.

“My name is Zhuo Yifeng,” Zhuo Yifeng called out.

“Lad, you don’t seem like an expert.” Zhuo Yifeng was tall and broad, but Ju Tian was half again as wide. Zhuo Yifeng seemed almost like a child by his side, and, more importantly, he’d never heard of his name. “Is there no one else in the Feng family? To send such a young lad to face me—I recommend you back down and let Li Mo stand in your place.”

“Say that after you beat me,” Zhuo Yifeng replied archly, drawing a pitch-black whip and cracking it at Ju Tian.

“Oh, you’re an impatient brat, aren’t you?” Ju Tian laughed, then caught the whip with his bare hands. “Heh, I’ll teach you that there’s a blood price to pay for your impertinence.”

Ju Tian infused a large amount of spiritual energy into the whip, then wrenched it hard, expecting to send Zhuo Yifeng flying. However, he suddenly realized that the spiritual energy that he infused into the whip seemed to sink into an abyss.

Just as he doubted what he’d experienced, an equally large pulse of spiritual energy emanated from Zhuo Yifeng’s hands, travelling toward Ju Tian through the whip that connected them both. The spiritual energy that Ju Tian sent out seemed to have been absorbed by axx mysterious power, but Zhuo Yifeng’s spiritual energy struck him true.

The massive outpouring of spiritual energy, along with an unusually eerie, cold presence, flooded Ju Tian’s body. Despite how tough his physical body was, it was utterly incapable of resisting the spiritual onslaught.

The crowd watched on with shock as Ju Tian staggered backwards. The moment before he could step out, Zhuo Yifeng extended his other hand at him, conjuring up a thick vine that wrapped around Ju Tian’s neck like a venomous snake.

The moment the vine touched Ju Tian’s body, he spat out a mouthful of blood.

No one could see how the whip had swallowed up Ju Tian’s spiritual energy and allowed Zhuo Yifeng’s to flow freely—all they saw was that Zhuo Yifeng had bested Ju Tian in a contest of spiritual energy.

“You, you—you’re cheating!” Ju Tian accused, his eyes as wide as copper bells.

Zhuo Yifeng smirked. “I’ll teach you that there’s a blood price to pay for underestimating me.” He flicked his hand, and, with a loud, resounding crack, broke Ju Tian’s neck.

“How could this be?!” Pi Batian watched on in disbelief. “Zhuo Yifeng’s cultivation has reached the level of a sword saint, and he even killed the peak first-rank sword saint Ju Tian?!”

Pi Yan also frowned at the scene. Although he was as confused as his son at their enemies’ incredible growth, his eyes wouldn’t lie. “They’re growing stronger,” he murmured, almost to himself. “It looks like this war won’t be as easy as I first thought. Elder, you’ll have to help us Pis…”