Zhao Wuji kicked aside the rubble.
Beneath the broken bricks lay Li Zhexian, covered in mud, seemingly unconscious.
But Zhao Wuji didn't move to grab him—instead, a cold smile curled at his lips. His massive, bowl-sized fist swung down toward Li Zhexian's head without flourish or hesitation.
Suddenly—
Li Zhexian's tightly shut eyes snapped open.
With a sudden thrust of both legs, his body slid backward along the ground like a fish through water, dodging several meters in a blink.
BOOM—!
Zhao Wuji's punch struck the spot where Li Zhexian had just been.
Stone shattered in all directions, leaving behind a pit two feet deep.
Had that blow connected, Li Zhexian's head would've exploded like a watermelon.
"Old bastard…"
Li Zhexian propped himself up with the Qinglian Sword, staggering as he stood.
He wiped the blood from the corner of his mouth, eyes cold and sharp, now tinged with a rare gravity.
Too naive...
Or rather—he had underestimated the heroes of the world.
His undefeated streak had bred an arrogant delusion, a belief that "all glory belongs to the present age."
But this battle—
ruthlessly shattered that pride.
He had believed his hundreds of Spirit Arena duels had tempered him into a seasoned warrior.
But before Zhao Wuji, he was completely suppressed.
The strength of an old-generation powerhouse... truly like a mountain—unyielding and immovable.
"Li Zhexian…"
Zhao Wuji wiped the rain from his face, a flash of appreciation briefly surfacing in his tiger-like eyes.
Setting aside their opposing sides—
Li Zhexian was perhaps the most remarkable young Spirit Master he had ever encountered.
Though he didn't want to admit it, even the Seven Monsters of Shrek couldn't compare.
Yet that fleeting admiration was quickly consumed—
by an even darker, more savage killing intent.
"You can't be allowed to live."
The fourth Spirit Ring beneath Zhao Wuji's feet lit up with a violet glow.
A formless aura locked onto Li Zhexian from a distance.
"Fourth Spirit Ability — Position Trace!"
Zhao Wuji, renowned for defense, exploded with terrifying speed.
The ground beneath him erupted in shards, and in a blink, his hulking figure tore through the air—
appearing right in front of Li Zhexian.
"Die!"
His massive fist, surging with unstoppable power, slammed straight for Li Zhexian's chest!
Li Zhexian's expression changed drastically—he had no time to dodge!
He could only raise his sword to block in desperation.
BOOM—!
The Qinglian Sword bent under the force, its blade crashing into his chest.
"Pfft—!"
Another mouthful of blood burst out. A few crimson droplets even splashed onto Zhao Wuji's face.
Rain washed the blood into long red trails, making his rugged features look all the more savage.
Li Zhexian, meanwhile—
Was blasted dozens of meters away, crashing through several trees before finally slamming into the mud with a sickening thud.
"Cough… cough…"
He struggled to prop himself up.
Every breath he took felt like needles stabbing into his chest.
His face was pale as paper. When he looked down, he saw that his sternum had collapsed inward.
Within the wound, strange hues of scarlet and icy blue flickered, intertwined.
Had he not completed the Molten Frost Spirit Vein Body—
Zhao Wuji's punch would've ended him.
Staring down the grim reaper's silhouette in the rain several dozen meters away,
Li Zhexian raised the Clear Spring Wine Gourd, and poured a full mouthful down his throat.
The spirit wine surged like a flood inside him—
flooding his body with raging energy.
Torn flesh began to mend. Depleted Spirit Power filled once more.
He gripped the Qinglian Sword in his right hand. The gourd in his left.
He tilted the gourd—
Letting the glimmering wine spill over the sword's blade.
As the liquor soaked in, the blade's radiant green hue transformed into a molten crimson glow.
Twelve flaming lotus blossoms flared to life—
even visibly blooming on the surface of the sword.
Ssshh—
Hummmm—
The boiling of wine.
The humming of steel.
In this desperate night, once more—
The wine boiled, and the sword sang.
Li Zhexian's slumped spine slowly straightened.
His white robes were soaked in mud and blood, his body battered and bruised.
But his gaze—
was sharper than ever.
"Today…"
"Even if I die, I'll rip a chunk of flesh off you."
"Second Spirit Ability—Three Swords of Elegance!"
"Qinglian Sword Song, First Move — Yao Guang!"
Disregarding elemental traits—
Yao Guang was the sharpest sword technique Li Zhexian had ever unleashed.
Now, under the dual enhancements of Three Swords of Elegance and Wine-Boiling Sword Song,
this sword…
...transformed into a cascade of shimmering starlight falling from the Jade Terrace.
The dark heavens above seemed to split—
A shaft of starlight pierced through the night, radiant and dazzling.
It caught the falling rain in its path—
turning the storm into a downpour of refracted brilliance.
Zhao Wuji's advancing steps suddenly halted.
Such an ethereal vision made his brow furrow.
The dull ache in his injured arm reminded him—
This sword strike was no ordinary attack.
"Futile struggle!"
Zhao Wuji's killing intent surged further.
Beneath his feet, the seventh Spirit Ring ignited—
swelling from small to massive, a deep black glow engulfing the entire grove.
"Seventh Spirit Ability — Martial Soul Avatar!"
To deal with Li Zhexian—
Zhao Wuji had unleashed his Martial Soul Avatar.
A testament to just how lethal his intent had become.
The heavy black aura weighed down like a mountain.
As Zhao Wuji took another step, his body swelled—
transforming in an instant into a giant bear over five meters tall.
Golden fur bristled across his massive frame.
His eyes—glowing blood-red—burned like lanterns in the storm.
A fierce gale swept through the grove—
Tilting the sheets of rain at sharp angles.
Li Zhexian's soaked robes snapped in the wind.
He held the Qinglian Sword high—
its tip pointed directly at the falling star above,
as if to draw its power down to earth.
Zhao Wuji stopped and assumed a defensive stance.
But he quickly noticed something was wrong.
Cold.
A bone-piercing chill.
The rain striking his massive bear form
felt like icy needles piercing through fur and muscle.
"Li Zhexian—what the hell are you doing?!"
Zhao Wuji roared, earth shaking, and charged forward.
Rain poured like waterfalls.
The world around them turned to a swirl of green-black chaos.
Li Zhexian stood rooted in the mud, bloodied robes clinging to his body.
The chill in his flesh couldn't match the resolute fire in his eyes.
Zhao Wuji's roar shattered the storm around him.
A foul wind surged ahead, driving the rain with it.
Just as Zhao Wuji's colossal bear claw was about to land—
Li Zhexian's wrist flicked.
His sword technique—
Changed.
Hummmm—!
The Qinglian Sword let out a piercing cry.
Its crimson hue faded—
inch by inch shifting to a glacier-blue, slicing through the night like breaking ice.
Where its edge passed—
the very air froze.
Water on the ground, rain in the sky—
began to reverse course, flowing upward.
Hundreds of threads of glistening frost coiled around the blade—
forming a sword of ice several meters long.
And the raindrops that hadn't yet fused to the sword—
Remained suspended midair.
Each droplet reflected a tiny blue sword-light—
like a river of frozen stars.
Li Zhexian stepped lightly onto those airborne droplets—
his figure soaring through the sky.
Robes billowing, frost trailing behind—
He swept the ice blade straight at the oncoming bear.
Zhao Wuji's massive paw met the blade—
Crack!!
The moment the two clashed—
Frigid light exploded outward.
Frozen cracks spread from his claws upward.
Veins of frost, like living creatures, raced along golden fur.
In the blink of an eye—
Zhao Wuji was frozen into a statue of ice.
"Pfft—!"
But—
The backlash from the Frost Sword
slammed into Li Zhexian like a hammer.
He was thrown back again—
his wrist twisted unnaturally, pain flooding his nerves.
Even so—
He refused to release his grip on the sword.
"Just because I called out Yao Guang... does that mean I have to use Yao Guang?"
This sword—
Was the Qinglian Sword Song, Second Move — Two Forms: Sword of Frost.
In terms of raw damage—
It was weaker than Yao Guang or the Blazing Sword.
But it was his only control-type sword technique.
And in this downpour—
its power was multiplied severalfold.
Crack—!
Crack—!
Just as Li Zhexian barely stabilized himself—
The thick ice sealing Zhao Wuji fractured.
Cracks spiderwebbed across the surface,
ice shards crumbling to the ground.
Li Zhexian didn't dare hesitate.
He turned and ran.
He took another gulp from the Clear Spring Wine Gourd,
swallowing it along with the blood pooling in his mouth.
As he ran—
He slapped the green Wishful Hundred Treasure Purse at his waist.
A small herb shaped like a turtle shell landed in his hand.
Without pause, he shoved it into his mouth, chewing it whole.
Turtle's Breath Grass:
Causes death-like state. Completely conceals life force for three days.
He didn't know how far he ran.
His chest burned with pain,
each breath like a knife tearing at his lungs.
The injuries were too severe.
Even his Wine Martial Soul couldn't heal him in time.
He bit his tongue hard—
clinging to what little clarity remained.
Through blurred vision—
He spotted the outline of a bird's nest
among the thick branches of an ancient tree.
Exhausting the last of his strength—
Li Zhexian leapt into the branches
and curled up inside the cold, abandoned nest.
He fell silent.