Chapter 110: The Thousand-Blossom Sword Formation

Under the blessing of the Seven Heavenly Fists, Ji Mubai, transformed into a golden bell shape, now bore his suffering in silence.

The Heavenly Gang Golden Bell’s advantage originally lay in the terrifying destructive power generated upon impact with an opponent. Yet now, facing Lin Zhan, it hadn’t even landed a single blow; instead, it was being relentlessly battered from all sides.

Though offense was an advantage, in defense it was clearly at a disadvantage.

At this moment, Lin Zhan moved with bold, sweeping strikes, tirelessly unleashing the Fiery Fist technique. The essence of the first three forms was now fully comprehended, each punch more fierce than the last.

Boom! Boom! Explosions echoed midair.

This was not a mere clash of fists but a collision of blazing flames and electric arcs emanating from the fists, constantly burning and corroding the opponent. Strength was the foundation, and the fiery aura the enhancement.

Ji Mubai’s golden bell shrank, its spinning slowing down more and more.

“The fourth form of the Seven Heavenly Fists: Phantom,” Ji Mubai thought, sensing the need to shift tactics; otherwise, being pummeled by Lin Zhan would drain his vitality too quickly.

“Phantom my old teacher’s beard! Let’s end this!” Lin Zhan didn’t wait for a change in technique. He ascended to the top of the golden bell and slammed a punch down!

Clang!

Like a great bell shattered by a single strike, the broken fragments scattered—the dispersed spiritual energy and essence blood of Ji Mubai.

Ji Mubai was finished. The golden bell of the Seven Heavenly Fists collapsed in ruin. Though he still raised both fists in a stance to block Lin Zhan’s final heavy blow, his body plummeted rapidly, crashing onto the ground with a thunderous impact that shook the forest and left a deep crater.

“Beat the bastard good,” Lin Zhan adjusted his stance, swiftly landing and continuing his assault, determined to drive Ji Mubai out of the elimination zone.

Whoosh!

A silvery light streaked furiously—a sword qi from Fan Ning’s blade swept over like a gale.

Lin Zhan nimbly flipped aside, landing lightly and taunting coldly, “So, you’re going to rescue your comrade too?”

With one hand outstretched, the Ink Sword suddenly appeared in his grasp.

Though the space held dozens of confiscated swords from the Sword Burial Peak, the Ink Sword was his accustomed weapon.

He knew well that after advancing to the Yellow Rank, the Ink Sword’s power was insufficient, yet he was reluctant to replace it so soon—an act of nostalgic attachment.

“Are you sure you want to use that common broken sword?” Fan Ning, who had just missed with a strike, now sheathed his sword before him, stroking the blade’s pattern with disdain.

“Heh, how would I know your sword’s better if I haven’t tried?” Lin Zhan planted his sword firmly, radiating an aura unmatched by a mere longsword.

“Then let’s see!” Fan Ning slashed from afar. A massive boulder was lifted and hurled toward Lin Zhan.

Lin Zhan neither dodged nor avoided, leaping straight at the rock. At the peak of his jump, he lightly tapped the boulder’s surface with his toe, using it as leverage to propel forward. The Ink Sword, infused with spiritual energy, suddenly burst forth with a mixed radiance of gold and silver along its broad, solid blade.

Fan Ning’s expression shifted from ease to seriousness. He flicked his wrist, and the sword qi blossomed into a myriad of red flowers, forming a curtain.

Beautiful and alluring, these red blossoms were tinged with the aura of death, hauntingly seductive as they expanded into an endless sea of flowers.

This was Fan Ning’s mastered Thousand Flower Sword Formation of the Sword Burial Peak.

A single sword capable of unleashing a thousand deadly red flowers represented the formation’s pinnacle, capable of annihilating over ten opponents of the same rank at once.

However, Fan Ning had yet to reach the peak of this formation, producing only a hundred red flower sword qies. Against ordinary Yellow Rank adversaries, this was more than sufficient. Yet Lin Zhan, though still at the second tier of Yellow Rank, was no ordinary man.

Not only that—he possessed the Wind-Rain-Cloud footwork, the most crucial factor.

No matter the formation, speed and sensitivity were the keys to breaking it.

As the Thousand Flower Sword Formation took shape, the hundred deadly blossoms filled the space Lin Zhan was about to traverse. He only needed to evade them.

The reason these were called flower formations was because the blossoms constantly moved and leapt.

Wind-Rain-Cloud was the perfect guarantee of preemptive movement.

Fan Ning wielded his longsword, remotely controlling the flowers’ blooming and withering from afar. They alternated between dense raindrops and blazing meteors, attempting to trap Lin Zhan within the sea of red flowers.

Clang! Lin Zhan’s Ink Sword collided with the first red flower. The sword qi on its surface spread out like ripples on a stone-thrown lake.

This sword flower’s power was not overwhelming. Lin Zhan instantly realized that as long as he kept them at a distance, they posed no real threat.

Moreover, Fan Ning’s energy was divided among a hundred sword flowers. If attacked one by one, it was only a matter of time before his reserves were exhausted.

Clang! Clang!

Lin Zhan quickened the Ink Sword’s strikes, his body weaving like flowing light through the hundred red flower sword qies, consecutively extinguishing twenty or thirty in a small area.

Fan Ning’s expression darkened. He immediately adjusted the sword formation. The red flowers rapidly altered their trajectories, pairing and merging, their sizes swelling severalfold. Within a breath, all remaining flowers had fused into this state.

With increased size came a natural amplification of power, more than doubling it.

The difficulty of attacking these flowers rose accordingly.

Yet this was still not enough!

It merely cost Lin Zhan more energy. Even so, he remained unhurried and could appreciate the formation’s intricacies, arousing great interest as he deciphered it while dismantling it.

Fan Ning’s eyes burned with rage. The longer this dragged on, the more spiritual energy he consumed.

His resolve hardened. Gritting his teeth, he altered the sword qi flowers once more. Attempting to overwhelm by quantity had backfired; now he would rely on quality, hoping to force Lin Zhan into dire straits.

Whoosh!

The Thousand Flower Sword Formation suddenly withdrew its floral curtain. The numerous red blossoms condensed into a single enormous golden flower shaped like a lotus pedestal.

The lotus pedestal spun, radiating a golden light, piercing and bristling with fierce pressure, looming directly over Lin Zhan.

Lin Zhan sidestepped with a smile, “Bastard, flowers favored by women, and yet you play with them so skillfully!”

“Lin Zhan, today I swear I’ll kill you!” Fan Ning, already furious, now roared in rage.

The enormous golden lotus pedestal pursued Lin Zhan, trailing a long crimson glow.

“Heh, this lotus pedestal seems to be infused entirely with Fan Ning’s spiritual energy. If I absorb it, I wonder if it’ll drive him mad?” Lin Zhan thought as he moved, his consciousness probing the white bone tower in the space, checking its restoration progress.

As the golden lotus pedestal neared, Lin Zhan turned back and slashed with a sword. The lotus pedestal flipped and flew backward several yards, staggering Fan Ning with a sudden surge of chest tightness and breathlessness.

He gripped his sword with both hands, channeling all his spiritual energy, making the lotus pedestal emit its strongest oppressive aura as it crashed toward Lin Zhan.

Lin Zhan awaited this moment. With a thought, the immaculate white bone tower rose between him and the lotus pedestal. At its base, the giant mouth opened wide, swirling a massive vortex, eager to engulf the lotus pedestal within its maw.