"Father, Rongrong had so much fun today!"
Ning Rongrong snuggled in her father's embrace, her small face bright with an innocent smile, her sparkling eyes curved like crescent moons. She couldn't remember the last time her father had set aside all sect matters to devote an entire day to her.
Today, her father seemed gentler than ever.
"Alright, alright. As long as my Rongrong is happy, that's all that matters," Ning Fengzhi replied, gently patting his daughter's soft hair, his voice brimming with tenderness and love.
"Rongrong, it's bedtime now. Tomorrow... shall Daddy play with you again?"
"Mm!" Ning Rongrong nodded with all her might. Cradled in her father's warm arms, she soon drifted off to sleep, a content smile lingering on her lips.
Within Ning Fengzhi's eyes shone infinite gentleness. Leaning over, he planted a tender, loving kiss on his daughter's smooth forehead—an action soft and gentle, yet tinged with a sense of parting. Gazing at her sleeping profile one last time, he turned away, closing the door and sealing off her warm, little world behind him.
The moment he stepped out from his daughter's courtyard, all that kindness vanished. Ning Fengzhi's demeanor shifted to that befitting the Sect Master of the Seven Treasure Glazed Tile Clan: calm and composed.
He walked with determined steps toward the plaza at the heart of the sect.
Bathed in moonlight, the expansive training grounds of the Seven Treasure Glazed Tile Sect radiated grandeur. At its center stood two figures, raising drinks toward the moon—it was Sword Douluo, Chen Xin, and Bone Douluo, Gu Rong.
Hearing footsteps from behind, both men turned at once.
Ning Fengzhi emerged from the edge of the square, his Sect Master's formal robes immaculate, his hair neatly tied. Aside from the faint glimmer of tears at the corners of his eyes, his face was steady but betrayed inner turmoil.
"You are here," Chen Xin said quietly.
Approaching the two familiar, though now aged, faces, Ning Fengzhi's Adam's apple bobbed. He bowed deeply, his voice trembling,
"Uncle Sword… Uncle Bone..."
Chen Xin raised a hand, gently patting Fengzhi's shoulder with steady strength.
"Fengzhi. Everyone has the right to choose, and every person has their own path to walk."
"This is the decision I and Old Bone make ourselves. You have nothing to feel indebted for, nor should you blame yourself."
He fully understood—today's situation was not due to Ning Fengzhi alone. This was a destined path of the Seven Treasure Glazed Tile Clan, navigating the tides of the times, as if a great ship driven by fate. As its strongest mast and keel, they chose to live and die with the ship. That, to them, was pride.
Gu Rong took a swig of wine, replying in his typically rebellious, booming tone,
"Even if he's from the Divine Origin Realm, so what? Hmph. Tonight, I feel fantastic. As long as Old Sword stands by my side, I'm not afraid!"
Unusually, Chen Xin didn't retort. Instead, his eyes flashed with a fiery light—the excitement and craving of a top swordsman facing a foe stronger than ever before.
"Yes, the Realm of the Gods. Even my father, back then, did not have the fortune to witness it firsthand."
"Today, if I can challenge my Sword Intent with the Seven Kill Sword, even if I die… I believe my father's spirit in heaven will rejoice."
Listening to the broad-minded, resolute words of these two elders, Ning Fengzhi took a deep breath, stifling the tears in his eyes. He said nothing further, instead bowing solemnly to Chen Xin and Gu Rong.
When the ritual finished, the three exchanged looks—no more words were needed.
Ning Fengzhi turned, heading out of the sect, towards the city at the foot of the mountain, escorted on either flank as always—Chen Xin on the left, Gu Rong on the right.
Together, the three set out from the Seven Treasure Glazed Tile Sect.
Their journey from Seven Treasure City to the Imperial Palace of Heaven Dou was unimpeded. All guards and patrols gave way, having apparently received advance orders. What should have been the empire's most heavily guarded place was now an open, unobstructed path leading them to their predetermined destination.
Before long, they arrived at a vast, empty square deep within the palace.
Several people were already waiting there, bathed in silver moonlight: Chen Yi, the Grand Elder, Glowing Feather Douluo, and Qian Renxue, all standing quietly at the edge.
As Ning Fengzhi and his two elders approached, all eyes fell upon them.
Spotting the girl standing by Chen Yi, whose moonlit beauty was almost divine, Ning Fengzhi's eyes narrowed slightly.
"Could it be... the Spirit Hall's Young Miss, Qian Renxue... I did not expect you to come yourself this time,"
he said softly, his voice calm yet tinged with the faint emotion of reminiscence.
"Fengzhi… it is truly an honor."
Qian Renxue's golden eyes gazed back at her former teacher, her voice cool and clear,
"Teacher, you are too modest."
That single word—"teacher"—and her characteristic composure seemed to unlock all of Ning Fengzhi's inner doubts and mysteries.
"Good, good, good!" Ning Fengzhi repeated, even managing a smile.
"The Spirit Hall is... indeed a cut above the rest."
"I, Ning Fengzhi, am thoroughly moved."
Willingly accepting defeat yet never regretting his actions—this was Ning Fengzhi's magnanimity.
Chen Yi cast his gaze down on Ning Fengzhi and the two Douluos behind him—still at the peak of their fighting spirit—and spoke slowly, his voice echoing across the empty square.
"Sect Master Ning, at this final moment, are you prepared to fight?"
Ning Fengzhi did not answer at once. He looked back at Chen Xin and Gu Rong, the two elders standing firm and unwavering behind him. Their eyes held no fear of death—only burning passion and cold focus for the greatest battle of their lives ahead.
His gaze returned to Chen Yi before resting on the silent Grand Elder.
"Young Master Chen, Your Excellency Wisdom Brain Douluo," Ning Fengzhi bowed slightly, his voice resounding throughout the empty square,
"Our Seven Treasure Glazed Tile Sect has passed down through thousands of years, seeing all manner of sights in this world. Yet the world of 'gods' remained mere legend—how regrettable, that we have never truly witnessed it."
Fixing his gaze in devout appeal on the Grand Elder, Ning Fengzhi's voice was both a supplication and a challenge,
"Will Your Excellency today reveal for us the true nature of godly power?"
For the first time, a ripple appeared in the Grand Elder's normally serene eyes as he stared at Ning Fengzhi. This man, once regarded as nothing but a short-sighted performer, now stood here, stripped of all schemes and pretense, displaying the calm and composure worthy of a great tyrant.
He nodded slowly, his voice hoarse yet unfathomably solemn:
"Ning Fengzhi… you stand as the exemplar of your generation."
"In that case, I shall grant you and the thousand-year tradition of the Seven Treasure Glazed Tile Clan a worthy end today."
That last word rang out like the beat of invisible war drums.
In an instant, all gentleness vanished from Fengzhi's eyes, replaced by icy resolve.
A thunderous hum erupted as the colossal, rainbow-glazed spectral tower materialized behind him. Dozens of meters tall, its dreamlike radiance illuminated the night.
Yellow, yellow, purple, purple, black, black, black—
Seven spirit rings rose from beneath his feet! Each ring flaring with dazzling light, proving his extraordinary ability to fuse spirit rings:
This was the true form of the Seven Treasures!
His voice soared—the phantom tower behind him solidified, becoming a tangible glazed edifice that cast seven-colored rays like a living waterfall, enveloping the Sword and Bone Douluos.
At the same moment—
Clang!
The clear ring of a sword sliced through the silence. Sword Douluo Chen Xin's sword intent spiraled skyward, his white robes fluttering in windless air. The seventh soul ring shone bright:
"Seventh Soul Skill: Seven Kill True Form!"
A massive swordsman's shadow, born of boundless killing intent and pure sword will, stretched across the plaza.
ROAR!
A deep dragon's roar, with the chilling undertones of the undead grinding bone, echoed. Black energy swirled around Bone Douluo Gu Rong as his seventh soul ring burst with radiance:
"Seventh Soul Skill: Bone Dragon True Form!"
A colossal skeletal dragon, its wingspan over a hundred meters, descended through the black mists. Unholy green soul flames blazed in its eye sockets and bone-chilling frost seeped from its every pore.
Suspended in the air, the glazed pagoda shone with resplendent, sacred light.
The dazzling Seven Kill Sword pointed straight at the heavens, cold and deadly.
The ferocious bone dragon coiled on the ground, its aura of death suffusing the air.
Together, these three—the embodiment of energy and spirit—created a breathtaking spectacle on the moonlit square.
This was the ultimate, most glorious culmination of a millennium of tradition for the Seven Treasure Glazed Tile Sect!
…