Ji Gengxin's face darkened to a thunderous shade of purple. The veins on his forehead bulged. To be so utterly disregarded, to have his hard-won Peak Golden Core cultivation treated as nothing... the insult was unbearable.
"Draw your weapon, Lin Feng!" he snarled, his voice tight with rage. "Do you think so little of me? Do you think so little of the Sky Sword Sect?!"
Lin Feng's response was a slight, almost imperceptible shake of his head. His hands remained empty, held loosely at his sides.
"I do not need one," he stated, his tone as calm as a windless lake. "Make your move."
The repetition of the same command was a psychological assault far more effective than any physical blow. It reinforced his absolute superiority, his complete control over the situation.
Ji Gengxin saw red. A primal roar of fury built in his chest, but he choked it back. He remembered Elder Jian's cold, commanding voice. He could not lose control. He had to be smart. He had to win.
Forcing his breathing to steady, he channeled his rage into his sword. The gleaming blade hummed, its spiritual light intensifying. The air around it warped from the concentration of True Spiritual Energy.
Compared to the battles of the Qi Condensation Realm disciples, this was a different world entirely. If the spiritual energy of the Qi Condensation Realm was like water, then the True Spiritual Energy of the Golden Core Formation Realm was like quicksilver—dense, heavy, and lethally potent. A single wisp could crush a Qi Condensation cultivator.
"Sky Sword Art, Fourth Form: Heaven's Descent!"
Ji Gengxin shot into the air, a golden comet against the sky. He flipped, and his sword came down in a devastating arc. It wasn't just a slash; it was a judgment from the heavens.
RIP—
A massive, crescent-shaped wave of golden sword energy, ten meters wide, screamed towards the stage, aiming to cleave Lin Feng in two.
The pressure was immense. Disciples in the front rows flinched back instinctively, even behind the barrier.
Lin Feng did not look up. He took a single, measured step to the side.
BOOOOM!
The golden crescent of energy struck the stage where he had been standing. The sound was deafening. A cloud of dust and shattered stone fragments exploded outwards, and a deep, smoking trench was carved into the solid platform. The entire structure shuddered.
As the dust cleared, Lin Feng stood unharmed at the edge of the trench, his robes fluttering gently. He hadn't even used a movement technique; it was pure, unerring timing.
But the attack was not over. The sheer, cutting aura that extended from the sword's path was invisible yet razor-sharp. As the energy wave crashed down, this residual aura swept outwards.
Swish!
A few strands of Lin Feng's black hair, severed by the intangible sword intent, drifted silently to the ground beside the newly formed chasm.
A collective gasp rippled through the crowd. He had dodged the physical attack, but the aura had still reached him! This demonstrated the terrifying pervasiveness and lethality of a Golden Core expert's power.
Lin Yun was amazed upon seeing this. A Golden Core Formation Realm cultivator was indeed terrifying. He was certain that he would be cut in half instantly facing such a powerful attack.
Lin Feng glanced down at the severed hairs, his expression unchanging. It was as if he had anticipated this outcome all along. There was no surprise, no alarm, only a deep, analytical calm.
Then, he moved.
He didn't leap or flash. He simply stepped forward, closing the distance between them in the blink of an eye. His right hand formed a simple sword finger—index and middle fingers extended—and thrust towards Ji Gengxin's shoulder.
There was no glowing energy, no roaring aura. It was a simple, physical movement. But it was executed with such impossible speed and precision that it seemed to tear through the very air.
Ji Gengxin's eyes widened in shock. He had just landed from his grand technique and was slightly off-balance. There was no time to bring his sword around for a block. Instinct and fear took over. He threw his body backward in a clumsy, desperate dodge.
The sword fingers missed his shoulder by a centimeter, but the wind pressure they generated felt like a solid punch to his chest, forcing the air from his lungs in a sharp gasp.
Breathing heavily, Ji Gengxin scrambled backward, putting several meters between them. He needed a moment—just a single breath—to stabilize his chaotic spiritual energy and quell the rising panic in his heart. The gap between them felt like an abyss he could not cross.
But Lin Feng was a predator who gave no quarter.
The moment Ji Gengxin's feet touched the ground, Lin Feng was already upon him. There was no grand movement, just an effortless glide that closed the distance instantly.
A palm strike, deceptively simple, aimed for his chest. It carried a force that compressed the air, making it difficult to breathe.
Panic surged, but years of ingrained training took over. Ji Gengxin forced himself to remain calm. Instead of retreating further, he pivoted on his back foot, his body spinning like a top.
As he turned, his long sword became an extension of his arm, lashing out in a vicious, horizontal arc aimed at Lin Feng's outstretched arm.
It was a clean, sharp counterattack. The sword gleamed, its edge hungry.
Lin Feng's reaction was a blur. He didn't retract his arm. Instead, he dropped his center of gravity, his body sinking low. The sword whistled harmlessly over his head. In the same fluid motion, his leg swept out in a powerful, low kick aimed at Ji Gengxin's ankles.
Whoosh!
Ji Gengxin's eyes widened. He couldn't block it. He activated his movement technique, "Flickering Shadow Step." His form became hazy for an instant as he propelled himself backward.
But even in retreat, he was attacking. As he flew back, he twisted his wrist, sending his sword in a precise, backward thrust towards the space where Lin Feng's throat should be.
It was a clever, desperate move…