"Did I say you could leave?"
Li Zhexian didn't even lift his eyelids.
That light, almost careless sentence froze everyone in place.
The hall full of Spirit Masters instantly turned pale.
Someone gritted his teeth and forced out a few trembling words between them.
"Li… Li Zhexian…"
"Seven Treasures, shine with Glazed Light!"
Boom!
Shhh!
As though they had discussed it beforehand—
Ning Rongrong summoned her Seven Treasures Glazed Pagoda, instantly releasing waves of amplification.
Yu Tianheng, Yu Tianxin, and Feng Buyu attacked in unison.
In an instant—
Thunder roared.
Sword qi shimmered.
Before the man could even finish his sentence,
his body burst apart—blood spraying, flesh scattering across the floor.
"Hic~"
Feng Buyu let out a drunken hiccup, pointing his longsword at the trembling guests and sneering:
"A bunch of nobodies!"
"Don't even know your own place!"
"Titled Douluos aren't to be insulted—and you think Li Zhixian can be?"
Across the continent, there had always been differing opinions about Li Zhexian's true standing.
Some said—
Li Zhexian was still too young.
That although he could participate in a Titled Douluo-level battle, he had never fought one alone.
That his strength was merely that of a Spirit Douluo.
But others—
Were simply waiting for Li Zhexian to battle a Titled Douluo alone—
and once he did, they would crown him with a Title immediately.
...
The stench of blood sobered everyone instantly.
Looking at the three corpses sprawled before them, they finally recognized the truth:
Whether or not Li Zhexian was as powerful as rumored,
he was far beyond what they could mock.
Li Zhexian put down his teacup, leaned lazily against his chair, and gazed at the pale-faced young masters of the Fire Leopard Sect and the White Tiger Sect.
"Come."
"Weren't you so eager to challenge me?"
"No need to come upstairs to find me—I came myself."
"Which one of you will go first?"
"Or will you come together?"
"I… I…"
The once-arrogant young master of the Fire Leopard Sect was now trembling like a sieve, unable to form a complete sentence.
Just as Huyan Li had said—
Perhaps the Spirit Masters of Spirit City were misled by their rulers.
But as disciples of the Seven Great Sects, how could they not know the truth of what happened five years ago?
The "Legend of Sword Wine" told throughout Heaven Dou and Star Luo was no myth.
That youth's fame had been carved blade by blade from blood and battle.
And yet they had dared to say they wanted to "challenge" Li Zhexian…
Did they even know if their sect elders would dare say such words?
The Fire Leopard and White Tiger heirs didn't even dare breathe.
Li Zhexian turned his bored gaze toward a girl with foxlike eyes who was feigning calmness.
"Hu Liena," he said slowly,
"tell them…"
"When I nailed your teacher down and took his head—did I use any despicable tricks?"
Hu Liena was silent for a long while before finally speaking:
"Li Zhexian, I never slandered you…"
Boom!
The terrifying pressure of Auspicious Beast Spirit Rings and a hundred-thousand-year Spirit Ring, mixed with razor-edged sword qi and overwhelming spiritual power,
burst from Li Zhexian's body in an instant.
The floor cracked open.
Tables and chairs shattered into dust.
Everyone around staggered back, crying out in fear.
The entire Sacred Banquet Pavilion trembled on the verge of collapse.
Hu Liena, standing closest, went deathly pale and spat a mouthful of blood, staggering backward.
"When I speak, you answer."
Li Zhexian sat calmly amid the destruction, his tone indifferent.
Everyone else looked on in disbelief.
With mere pressure alone,
he had forced the Holy Maiden Hu Liena into serious injury and blood loss.
Such strength…
"Could it be… the rumors were true? That Li Zhexian really once nailed down Her Holiness the Pope herself—and already possesses Titled Douluo-level power?!"
In that moment, every Spirit Master of Spirit City present had the same thought.
The heirs of the Fire Leopard and White Tiger Sects were so terrified they nearly fainted.
In the corner, Huyan Li's eyes shone with awe and despair.
"Among our generation," he murmured, "none can even glimpse Brother Zhexian's back anymore."
"Why won't Grandfather believe me…"
He had tried countless times to persuade his grandfather not to submit to the Spirit Hall.
The future of the continent was unpredictable—
the Spirit Hall might not be the final victor.
But alas, his words carried no weight.
"Brother Buyu!"
Yu Tianxin nudged Feng Buyu excitedly with his shoulder, his voice low but filled with enthusiasm.
"This feels amazing!"
"Fighting alongside Master—this is so satisfying!"
Feng Buyu clicked his tongue.
"Calm down. This is small stuff."
Then he frowned suddenly—
and smacked Yu Tianxin on the head.
"Show some respect! I, your brother, and your master—we call each other brothers. You calling me 'Brother Buyu'? Call me senior brother!"
"Cough, cough…" Hu Liena raised a slender hand to her forehead, her head pounding as though it would split.
Five years ago,
Li Zhexian had still needed to draw his sword to defeat her.
Now—
she couldn't even withstand the pressure of his aura.
Meeting the youth's increasingly cold gaze, Hu Liena gave a bitter smile and rasped out,
"You did not use any despicable tricks."
"The rumors outside…"
"Are all true."
When she finished, she closed her fox-like eyes in humiliation, her alluring face drained of life.
Li Zhexian was about to speak again—when his sword brows lifted slightly.
"They arrived quickly."
Boom!
The sword qi he had left blocking the tavern door shattered instantly under a violent surge of Spirit Power—
fused with blazing fire and sharp metallic force—
collapsing the doorway in a burst of dust and splintered beams.
Through the smoke,
a lean middle-aged man in a flaming red robe strode in, alongside a burly elder.
"Father! Grandfather! Save us!"
The heirs of the Fire Leopard Sect and the White Tiger Sect cried out in ecstatic relief.
The two newcomers stepped forward—
then both abruptly frowned, and quickly moved aside.
From between them emerged a woman of peerless beauty,
dressed in a long, dark-purple gown,
her hand resting on a Pope's scepter.
...
Inside the vast tavern,
everyone except Li Zhexian and his companions
fell to their knees in reverence and awe.
"Greetings, Your Holiness the Pope!"
Bibi Dong's phoenix eyes swept coldly across the room.
But when her gaze landed on Li Zhexian—
alone, with no one guarding him—
her aura suddenly flared as if in reflex.
The next instant—
The next instant—
BOOM! BOOM!
CRASH! CRASH!
The windows of the second floor shattered in succession.
Figures appeared as though teleporting, forming up instantly before Li Zhexian.
They were—
Ning Fengzhi, Chen Xin, Gu Rong, Feng Bailong, Dugu Bo, and Yu Yuanzhen.
A gathering of Titled Douluo.
Even without releasing any Spirit Power,
the sheer pressure of their presence
made the air inside the tavern feel as if it had frozen solid—
so heavy it was suffocating.
The diners inside had all turned deathly pale,
clutching tables or walls just to stay upright.
Who could have imagined—
that what began as a petty squabble among juniors
would escalate to a confrontation between Titled Douluo?
And all of this…
because of the calm, white-robed youth at the center of it all.
...
The atmosphere was taut as a bowstring.
Bibi Dong narrowed her eyes, her surging Spirit Power slowly subsiding.
"Li Zhexian!"
The Fire Leopard Sect Master, Huo Yanbao, stepped forward,
his fiery-red hair flaring upward, blazing like living flame.
"This was a quarrel between juniors! If you dare lay a hand on my son—"
Zheng!
A streak of sword light flashed.
The joyous expressions on the faces of the Fire Leopard and White Tiger heirs froze.
"Ah… ah…"
Their eyes bulged.
A thin red line appeared on each of their necks.
Blood sprayed out in two gushing arcs,
and their heads rolled across the floor.
Li Zhexian smiled faintly and asked,
"So—what will you do about it?"