Chapter Forty-Seven: I Took It Seriously

Within the domain of law, Xu Xing stood, gazing down at Mo Yi, who knelt before him. Xu Xing moistened his parched lips; he had endured this humiliation for far too long. Everything needed to be personally settled by his own hand.

“Mo Yi, is there anything else you wish to say? Remember, soon you’ll descend and confess your sins to your ancestors.”

That strike just now—he had only wanted to test the power of the sword technique that had imprinted itself in his mind, attacking merely with the flat of the blade.

“Worm! Do you truly think I’ve lost?” Mo Yi howled in refusal, pulling a blood-red, skull-shaped pill from his cosmic pouch and swallowing it whole.

In an instant, the domain was suffused with a crimson haze, like a graveyard of a hundred clans thrown into chaos. Mo Yi’s spirit root tree surged forth, growing wildly.

He slit his own wrist, letting his burning blood pour into his mythic weapon—the Coldblade, which wept crimson tears.

Scalding blood flooded the blade; the entire domain trembled as if a giant had set foot within, threatening to shatter the very barriers that contained them.

“What’s happening?”

“He’s burning his very essence in a desperate stand, sacrificing his lifespan and blood to honor his ancestors, seeking their power through spiritual communion. But this move drastically shortens his life!”

“Look at Xu Xing—he’s not even wielding a mythic weapon, yet his presence is no less imposing than Mo Yi’s. I’d say the outcome is far from decided.”

“No, the gap in their strength is too great. That’s just on the surface—Mo Yi hasn’t even unleashed his full potential. Once the pill’s effects peak, Xu Xing will not be able to match him.”

“And most crucially, he just swallowed the Blood Demon Pill—his cultivation will likely soar straight to the Foundation Establishment stage.”

The crowd buzzed with heated debate.

Xu Xing did not pause, attacking Mo Yi’s ever-growing form again and again.

Although Xu Xing rarely practiced with the sword, his talent for swordsmanship was undeniable.

In the brief time it took for Mo Yi’s body to change, Xu Xing had already struck hundreds of times.

Even with a yellow-grade protective garment that clung to him like a fisherman’s net, Mo Yi’s body was riddled with wounds.

What puzzled Xu Xing was that, at this moment, Mo Yi seemed unkillable.

Yes, unkillable—not because Xu Xing couldn’t strike a fatal blow, but because an uncanny force repelled any attack aimed at his vital points.

“Spare your efforts—this is not a defense that a backwater yokel like you could ever hope to breach! I admit you have some strength, enough to surprise me, but today you must die here!”

Mo Yi laughed as he absorbed vast amounts of spiritual energy, his body swelling with power.

Crimson and fluorescent green energy flooded into him.

Xu Xing was startled—so his roots were fire and wood; no wonder the energy he summoned was so abundant.

But was Xu Xing inferior? He possessed five major spirit roots, plus another mysterious, unfathomable, chaotic root. Why should he fear?

He was born with six innate gifts! So why couldn’t he draw spiritual power from his own spirit root tree?

Meanwhile, before his eyes, Mo Yi’s body grew at a speed visible to the naked eye, swelling into a thirty-zhang tall figure wreathed in flame.

Mo Yi now stood naked, his clothes burned to ash, his veins and flesh laid bare to all.

“Mo Yi! You are nothing but a worm who relies on outside forces!” Xu Xing struck with the flat of his blade, his voice calm and cold.

Though the attacks lacked lethal force, he wished to keep something in reserve, to see just how much power he truly possessed.

“Who’s the worm? You can’t hurt me! My vital points are protected by a family-forged treasure. You think a backwater fool like you can unravel its secrets?”

“You’re the worm! Just a turtle hiding in a shell. Once your energy’s spent, I’ll cut you down all the same!”

“In your dreams! My spiritual energy is deeper than you can imagine!”

By now, the wild energy in Mo Yi’s spirit root tree had fully gathered. His whole body glowed red, streaked with green and orange.

Raising his hands, he traced a circle in the air, immense spiritual energy pouring from the spirit root tree into his body, then surging out from within the circle to form a blinding, red-brown fireball, radiating scorching heat.

The fireball, spanning three zhang in diameter, was entirely red-brown. The temperature in the domain surged.

“What—?”

Xu Xing was startled, dodging swiftly. He moved at full speed, twisting his ankle and pivoting, evading the fireball with ease.

It struck the ground, carving a three-foot pit, smoke and fire seething from within as though a volcano had erupted.

“Foolish brute.” Xu Xing smiled faintly, composed and unhurried.

“Hmph, insolent! That was but a casual attack. Watch closely for what comes next.”

Sword in hand, Xu Xing charged forward. Though he fought with all his strength, he was knocked back to the edge of the domain by the sheer mass of Mo Yi’s body.

Thrown back, Xu Xing felt a sense of powerlessness. Direct confrontation was futile—the pill Mo Yi had swallowed was beginning to show its effects.

Now, the only hope was to exhaust Mo Yi’s spiritual energy—once he reverted to his true form and weakened, Xu Xing could deliver the coup de grâce.

But that was almost impossible: Xu Xing’s own energy was nearly depleted, while Mo Yi’s reserves seemed inexhaustible.

Mo Yi’s hands moved in continuous circles, the air thick with arcane runes, brimming with solemn, mysterious power.

As the runes gathered, countless fireballs were unleashed.

Watching the oncoming barrage, Xu Xing’s eyes widened. He invoked the Secret Art of Divine Essence, freezing time itself.

He carefully analyzed where each fireball would land, even calculating the reach of their aftershocks.

“Look! What’s Xu Xing doing? Is he giving up? Why’s he standing there motionless?”

“Maybe he’s realized the difference in their strength and is hoping for a little mercy from Mo Yi.”

“Xu Xing, how can you be so spineless? Why not at least put up a fight?”

Within the domain, Xu Xing stood unmoving, steady as a mountain.

The onlookers held their breath, sweating with anxiety.

To them, it seemed Xu Xing was simply waiting for death.

Fireballs rained down like meteors, leaving no gap.

Within the domain, Xu Xing slowly lifted his arms toward the blue sky, exhaling deeply.

“Come!”

One after another, the fireballs slammed into the ground around him, gouging deep pits—yet not a single one struck Xu Xing.

In a flash, the landscape returned to its former state, as though nothing had occurred.

Xu Xing smiled faintly. The moment he had unleashed the Secret Art of Divine Essence, he had discerned that the spot beneath his feet would be untouched by the onslaught.

Outside the domain, the crowd was stunned into silence.

“What?!”

“How could this be? Is it even possible?”

“Was it dumb luck, or did he actually foresee it?”

Even Mo Yi was astonished that none of his fireballs had touched Xu Xing. Stamping his feet in frustration, he exclaimed,

“Just lucky, huh? Try this next move—I’d like to see you dodge now!”

Xu Xing did not reply, but there was a problem: he had already overextended himself using the Secret Art of Divine Essence and could not use it again.

Underfoot, the earth began to tremble, as if something was about to erupt.

Xu Xing glanced down at his thigh, frowning in puzzlement. “What’s going on?”

From the corner of his eye, he murmured softly, “It’s time I got serious.”

The domain shook like the end of the world, making Xu Xing stagger, a sense of mortal peril bearing down on him.

“Mo Yi, I’ve no more time to waste on your games.”

Xu Xing raised his sword before his eyes, opening them slowly.

“Games? You still don’t know who will be buried here when this ends!” Mo Yi cackled, sparks shooting from his mouth toward Xu Xing like the eruption of a volcano.

Xu Xing began to draw his blade. Staring into the reflection of his own eyes on the steel, he steeled his resolve.

He had already drawn his sword once, and always struck with the flat of the blade.

“One sword, one thought.”

As the blade was drawn, the domain wailed with ghostly cries, the earth quaking as if the creator god was splitting heaven and earth anew.

Beneath Xu Xing’s feet, cracks began to open by the centimeter.

Outside, every spectator’s sword began to tremble, flying from their scabbards.

The music of sword and flute echoed as if the very strings of a zither were being plucked.

The swords of the cultivators soared skyward, then rained down upon the barrier of the domain.

Clang after clang rang out, as if the flying swords might tear the domain apart.

“What’s happening? When he drew his sword earlier, there was nothing like this—what’s different?”

“Wait, before he used the flat of the blade against Mo Yi, but now it’s the edge. It looks like Xu Xing is getting serious...”

“Are you saying Xu Xing was concealing his strength all along?”

“Yes.”

“How can that be? How could someone at the Qi Refining stage possess such power?”

The crowd erupted in debate. Watching Xu Xing draw his sword, they seemed to finally understand who deserved to have their name engraved atop the Black Tortoise Tablet.

With every inch of the blade unsheathed, the earth’s tremors grew threefold.