Just then, a figure strode boldly into the arena, voice ringing out:
"Brothers of the jianghu, I am Qiu Feng, Master of the Phoenix Gang! On that day, the Black Dragon Sect stirred trouble without cause. After defeat, they flew into a shameful rage and sought to slaughter the river-guild heroes. But thanks to young Wu Tong's righteous blade, we were spared disaster. Now at this Assembly they come again seeking revenge. Since courtesy demands return in kind, allow me, Qiu Feng, to meet this so-called prodigy!"
Jia Yong, having just fought a fierce duel and barely prevailed, was still unsettled. His earlier arrogance had long since faded. But before he could answer, the sound of fluttering robes swept across the square. From the ranks stepped a tall woman of proud bearing—Nangong Yan, Mistress of the Palace of the Celestial Empress.
Her voice rang clear:"Young Jia, rest yourself. This match, I will take in your stead."
Jia Yong clasped his fists respectfully and withdrew."Then I must trouble Palace Mistress Nangong."
Nangong Yan turned her gaze on Qiu Feng and said coldly:"Jia Yong has just fought. To challenge him again would be no honor. I, Nangong Yan, shall face you."
Qiu Feng looked upon the towering woman, and thought: "If she dares step forth, she must truly have skill." She returned the courtesy:"Then please—grant me your instruction."
Nangong Yan's famed art was the Thirteen Palms of the Soaring Swallow. With a fierce cry, like a beast's roar, she sprang forward, body light as a swallow in flight. Her palms struck with "Tears Like Rain"—force surging like thunder, flashing as lightning, violent and swift!
But Qiu Feng, disciple of Daoist Miaochang, answered with her own signature—the Soft Palms. Calm and steady, she unfolded "The Highest Good Is Like Water." Her palms glided left and right, dissolving Nangong's ferocious strikes, soft yielding to hard, water wearing down stone. The force of the storm was turned aside, scattered like ripples in a stream.
Nangong's brows furrowed. Without pause she shifted to "Come and Go As One," darting in with palms whistling. The two women clashed in a blur, palms cutting, claws striking, feet stamping, movements fast as shadows.
Qiu Feng drew upon her inner power, breath coursing through her hundred meridians. Her body rose and twisted, soaring obliquely with "Born of the Void." Her movements were swift as hawks, palms soft yet edged with hidden power. For an instant she seemed like a phantom.
Nangong Yan found herself forced back, astonished: "How is it that every river-guild master fights with such profound skill?" She grew anxious, then launched "Scales Sink, Feathers Soar"—kicks and strikes combined, leaping to smash down with force.
Knowing delay would only worsen her chances, she gathered her qi, let out a mighty cry, and unleashed the ultimate strike of the Thirteen Palms—"Thunder Moves, Wind Flows." The air split with shrieking force, dust and grit whirled up as if in a storm!
Yet Qiu Feng merely frowned, unhurried. With soft, flowing steps she answered with "Clouds Flow as Water." Her palms surged like endless currents, dissolving the gale like water enfolding stone. Nangong's thunderous palms found no purchase, carried away in invisible spirals.
"Such formidable palms!" Nangong was secretly shocked, but refused to yield. She whirled into "Wild Swallows in Flight," body spinning, hands weaving a storm of shadows that sealed every escape.
But Qiu Feng sank her stance, gathering qi. Suddenly she reversed her palms upward, launching "Soft Clouds Overlapping." Her strikes, though light as willow fronds, bore hidden vibrations. Each clash numbed Nangong's arms, leaving her startled.
Still, Nangong would not back down. With a cry she leapt, unleashing "Slanting Flight of the Swallow." Her legs cut the air like blades, striking toward Qiu Feng's shoulder and waist.
But her blood surged chaotically, her arms trembled. She knew she could not last. Qiu Feng, calm and sharp-eyed, shifted with lightning footwork, then struck forth with "Flowers Falling, Jade Pointing." Her inner power condensed into a single palm—"Soft Breaks the Hard."
The strike landed with a resounding "boom!" Nangong was hurled backward, crashing heavily to the ground. She staggered, coughed blood, and fell seated, defeated.
Qiu Feng bowed with composed grace:"Forgive me—fists and palms know no eyes."
Then, turning sharply, her gaze like steel, she called:"Jia Yong! Was it not you who wished to test me? Come forth!"
Before Jia Yong could answer, a voice from the crowd thundered:
"North Jia Yong against South Wu Tong!"
The cry cracked the air like thunder. At once, the multitude erupted, voices rolling like tidal waves:
"North Jia Yong versus South Wu Tong!""North Jia Yong versus South Wu Tong!""North Jia Yong versus South Wu Tong!"
The square quaked with their roar, the atmosphere blazing to a peak!
Jia Yong's lips curved in a cold smile. He lifted his voice:"You all heard it—North Jia Yong against South Wu Tong! Today, let the two heroes of North and South decide the victor!"
His words rang with confidence, proud and unyielding.
This duel—the clash of North and South—had already become the focus of the entire Assembly. Even beyond, the gambling dens had laid their wagers, stakes so vast they might sway the balance of power in the martial world. This was no longer just a contest of skill—it was a battle upon which reputations, fortunes, and honor all depended.
Among the crowd, hired eyes from those dens watched intently, ensuring nothing would prevent this long-awaited clash. The very air seemed aflame with anticipation.
Both grandmasters of the rival sects fell silent in thought. They knew: Wu Tong and Jia Yong were each the peerless young champions of their camps. To display their might before the eyes of the world was to claim future supremacy of the jianghu.
Murong Gui stepped forward, voice booming:"North Jia Yong and South Wu Tong—two names famed throughout the realm. Since fate has brought them together, why not let them cross blades here and now, so all may witness the twin stars of the martial world?"
The crowd erupted in thunderous applause.
Then Liu Xuan, Grandmaster of the Celestial Veneration Sect, also advanced with a measured smile:"It is said that each generation brings forth its heroes. Since all wish to see these two, then let the matter be settled today. Better now than some future day."
Thus, the duel was set.
Murong Gui turned, calling:"Jia Yong, step forth!"
Jia Yong strode forward, bowing:"This disciple is here!"
Murong Gui's tone grew solemn:"Before the eyes of the world, this is your chance to carve your name in legend. Go forth without fear—hold nothing back."
Jia Yong's eyes gleamed with pride."I was careless before. This time I will unleash all my might and claim victory!"
With head held high, he strode into the arena, aura blazing.
On the other side, Liu Xuan turned and spoke warmly:"Tong'er, where are you?"
Wu Tong stepped forth steadily, cupping his fists."This disciple is here!"
Liu Xuan regarded him deeply."Remember—victory and defeat are but common matters in battle. Do not let desire cloud your mind. Fight with measure, not rashness."
Wu Tong nodded firmly."I shall remember, Master."
Then he strode forth, robes billowing, his presence calm yet commanding.
As the two young titans faced each other in the center, the entire square boiled over with cries:
"North Jia Yong versus South Wu Tong!""North Jia Yong versus South Wu Tong!""North Jia Yong versus South Wu Tong!"
The most anticipated duel of the age was about to begin!