As Lin Xiao stepped onto the arena and took his position opposite Ji Juechen, the latter reached into his robes and slowly drew out his "sword."
It was called a sword, but it resembled some random elongated object arbitrarily given the name.
However, Lin Xiao wouldn't underestimate him. He was all too aware of the fearsome nature of the person before him.
As time ticked by, students gradually gathered around the arena. After all, the reputation of the "Sword Maniac" had long spread through the academy, and his unique fighting style had attracted quite a crowd.
With few entertainment options at the academy, watching a distinctive battle was one of the rare pleasures for the students.
Ji Juechen's heavy sword tilted slightly forward, his initially dull gaze gradually brightening. As five soul rings rose around him, the sword tip began to tremble faintly, and he himself seemed to merge completely with the heavy sword, emitting a subtle humming sound.
"Who's that guy facing Ji Juechen? Why hasn't he made a move?"
"He probably hasn't fought Ji Juechen before and doesn't know that the longer Ji Juechen builds up, the stronger that strike becomes."
"I wonder if this guy can withstand Ji Juechen's strike?"
"It's tough. His soul power level doesn't seem much higher than Ji Juechen's."
The murmurs from the crowd weren't hushed, and Lin Xiao, standing on the arena, heard them clearly. They were right—Ji Juechen's talent wasn't exceptional. A few years older than Lin Xiao, his cultivation had only recently broken through to level fifty.
But they were wrong about one thing. Lin Xiao wasn't standing still, letting Ji Juechen build momentum, because he was unfamiliar with him. He was here precisely to experience Ji Juechen's sword strike firsthand.
Victory or defeat didn't matter to Lin Xiao. He simply wanted to witness the realm of Ji Juechen's sword intent with his own eyes.
Ji Juechen's aura grew increasingly formidable, his piercing sword intent rushing toward Lin Xiao. It felt like facing a fierce gale or countless blades grazing his body. His clothes rippled as if caught in a windless storm, and the students below struggled to keep their eyes open.
They had seen Ji Juechen fight many times, but never had anyone allowed him to build his aura to such an extreme as Lin Xiao did.
On the other side, Ji Juechen didn't understand Lin Xiao's intentions, nor did he need to. If someone wanted to see his sword, he would show it to them.
His mindset was always straightforward.
Without warning, Ji Juechen tilted his head back, his eyes flashing as if twin bolts of lightning shot through them. In the next instant, his body moved like an eerie streak of light, skimming the ground toward Lin Xiao.
Where he passed, the arena couldn't withstand the sword intent, a long crack forming in its surface. The students on either side instinctively stepped back, their faces filled with irrepressible fear.
On the arena, Lin Xiao stood still, a lone Higanbana flower blooming fragilely in his palm, as if it could wither under the sword at any moment.
Yet, facing Ji Juechen, before the sword even descended, Lin Xiao first sensed something indescribable.
It was likely Ji Juechen's "sword intent." Before the blade arrived, an intangible force had already descended, invading Lin Xiao's sea of consciousness.
In that moment, Lin Xiao finally glimpsed the most exquisite aspect of Ji Juechen's sword—not merely soul power or mental power, but his will, a pure will that held nothing but the sword.
Something seemed to stir in his mind, a mysterious sensation rising instinctively from deep within under the influence of this strike.
"Hm?"
A puzzled voice sounded from the Holy Spirit Cult's branch altar.
"What's wrong, Old Eight?" The Second Elder, seated at the head, turned to look. "Is there a problem?"
"No." Nightmare Douluo quickly shook his head. "I just remembered something else."
"Alright then." The Second Elder didn't press further. "In that case, it's settled. With the imperial family stepping in, these businesses can grow even larger…"
Whatever else the Second Elder said, Nightmare Douluo no longer paid attention. No one noticed that his heart was racing, his soul power surging within him, far from calm.
What happened around that kid to let him break my restriction? Could it be someone from the Hall of Illustrious Virtue?
Under his black robe, Nightmare Douluo's brows furrowed deeply.
Back on the arena, Lin Xiao felt something in his mind collide with Ji Juechen's sword intent, an invisible barrier shattering in that instant.
Before him was Ji Juechen's calm face, his aura both serene as water and sharp as an unsheathed blade.
Below the arena, many students wore expressions of fear, clearly witnessing Ji Juechen unleash such power for the first time.
In the distance, several gazes were fixed on the arena, seemingly intrigued by who would emerge victorious between him and Ji Juechen.
The sounds of combat from other arenas, the testing of soul tools in the soul tool testing area, and even the breathing of the hidden guards protecting the Sun Moon Imperial Academy all rang clearly in Lin Xiao's ears.
The elemental forces of the world flowed gently, and in that moment, the world before him seemed to reveal its truest form.
He had never felt the world so clear, nor his soul power so intimate, as if a mere thought could command it instinctively.
The Higanbana flower in his palm trembled slightly. He could feel every delicate vein on it, see the residual souls hidden within its stamen, and even sense something more.
A violent impact tore through his body from behind—the final sensation of the two Holy Spirits at the branch altar before their deaths. A rain of blood fell, and eerie flowers bloomed from bodies—the last memories of the other Holy Spirit Cult disciples there…
Scenes of death, unfamiliar fragments, and events tied to those residual souls flashed through the Higanbana flower before Lin Xiao's eyes.
Something surged violently in his mind. As his gaze fell upon himself, he suddenly found himself standing on an endless path, with an unnamed river flowing gently before him. On either side, flowers bloomed silently, their petals visible but their leaves unseen.
Across the river, someone seemed to be watching him, but their face was blurred, impossible to discern.
Was this his sea of consciousness?
Though he had never seen it, Lin Xiao felt no strangeness, as if he had been here many times. The river before him was formed of mental power, flowing ceaselessly, its end out of sight.
Lin Xiao took a step forward, feeling an unprecedented lightness in his body, as if a lingering affliction had vanished in that very moment.