Chapter 128: The Might of the Golden Dragon

The disciple of Flamepeak, Yi Ruyi, though having initially set a trap for Lin Zhan to fall into, now that he was certain of defeat, accepted it straightforwardly and calmly.

As the points were claimed by Lin Zhan, a protective light shield ignited around Yi Ruyi’s body, and he transformed into a streak of meteor-like brilliance, soaring up and vanishing into the sky above the Southern Light Abyss.

“Lin Zhan, until we meet again… Crush those bastards… Once back at Flamepeak, senior brother will treat you to a drink…”

Returning to Flamepeak—hopefully that would be possible.

Lin Zhan pondered this as he gathered his thoughts from this duel of sword auras—a childish contest of who could project their sword energy farther—and his reflections on the “Furnace Cauldron” technique. Then he began to climb down the cliff.

Ahead, the sounds of battle echoed. It was not a one-on-one duel but a chaotic skirmish involving multiple combatants.

Silently, Lin Zhan crept closer and saw amidst the mêlée two Flamepeak disciples he recognized: Gu Yuanzhou and Teng Sheng.

The situation inside was unclear. Thirteen fighters in total were engaged, divided into small groups of four, four, and three. Gu Yuanzhou and Teng Sheng fought side by side, while the other groups seemed to be independent factions.

Though each group fought separately, Flamepeak had the fewest numbers and appeared the weakest overall, bearing the brunt of the attacks. The other three groups were clearly not allied either, so their mutual conflicts somewhat alleviated the pressure on Gu and Teng.

Having just finished his spar with senior brother Yi Ruyi—a contest of sword energy akin to children competing to see who could pee farther—Lin Zhan’s Ink Sword thirsted for battle. Encountering this chaotic fight, he saw an opportunity to gain many points with a bold strike. His fighting spirit surged fiercely, and with agile leaps and bounds, he suddenly appeared at the very heart of the combat.

“You’re Lin Zhan!” multiple voices and cold snorts arose immediately as several groups paused, surprised by his arrival.

Lin Zhan chose his stance carefully—not too far from Gu Yuanzhou and Teng Sheng, but not directly ahead of them either.

By positioning himself this way, the three formed a battle line, signaling that Lin Zhan was also a Flamepeak disciple while avoiding exposing his back to Gu and Teng.

When the Sword Burial Peak came to demand retribution earlier, Lin Zhan had taken note of Gu and Teng’s behavior. Though they were Flamepeak disciples, they had not stepped forward to help, which was unlike Lin Zhan.

If brothers were in trouble, if fellow disciples were in peril, Lin Zhan would never stand by idly from a safe distance.

Thus, he held little goodwill toward these two; standing here now was purely because they shared the same sect.

Upon Lin Zhan’s appearance, a visible relief softened Gu and Teng’s faces.

Gu Yuanzhou cupped his fist and called out softly, “Lin Zhan, thankfully you’ve arrived!”

Teng Sheng, standing a bit farther off, brandished his weapon and moved closer, gratitude evident on his face.

Lin Zhan noticed their robes were torn and stained with spots of blood—both had been injured.

“Are you all right?” Lin Zhan asked, concern in his voice; after all, they were Flamepeak disciples.

They nodded, signaling they were fine.

Since everyone wore uniform black robes, Lin Zhan was unfamiliar with the other three groups ahead. He had seen only a few faces and didn’t know which peaks they hailed from.

This brief exchange lasted only a few breaths. The chaotic battle showed no sign of abating.

“Those who don’t want to die, leave now! Those who stay—accept your fate!” Lin Zhan shouted, his dark face resolute.

The three hundred participants in the finals were the future pillars of the Flame Mountains. Lin Zhan wished to avoid killing if possible; he deeply resented this brainless rule of the final contest.

Yet if the enemy chose to fight, he would strike with overwhelming force, and when facing equals, he would battle to the death.

“Hmph, arrogant words. You really think that becoming a full disciple from a mere menial is like a dragon's rise from the earth?”

“Let’s unite to eliminate the Flamepeak disciples first, then settle our own grudges!”

“Agreed! I’ve long disliked Flamepeak anyway—let’s attack together!”

Where before each fought solely for themselves, Lin Zhan’s arrival sparked unprecedented unity among the opposing groups.

“Heh! In that case, don’t blame me!” Lin Zhan said grimly.

With a slash of his Ink Sword, the blade glowed with eighty percent of its power, tracing an arc that struck all eleven opponents in the groups of four, four, and three.

The stunned adversaries were dumbfounded. They had heard of Lin Zhan’s strength but never expected his first move to be so fierce and aggressive.

“Lin Zhan, you’ve got some nerve!” The black-robed youth on the far left charged forward first, only to be met by a tidal wave of sword energy.

Both his arms were destroyed utterly. The following surges of sword energy sliced through him at the waistline before he could even cry out. His life ended abruptly, eyes still burning with unwillingness.

Before he fell, Lin Zhan’s Ink Sword swept toward the next target.

Whoosh!

This opponent was stronger and quicker to react. As Lin Zhan’s sword energy arrived, he retreated several steps and raised a large gray circular shield, enveloping his entire body.

Clang!

The golden-silver dragon-shaped power of the Ink Sword raked across the shield, leaving a deep scar and sparks flying.

Swish! Swish! Brush!

Several weaker black-robed fighters were struck by the sudden white flash and immediately went limp, dead on the spot.

Among the three hundred participants, few could survive a heavy blow from Lin Zhan’s sword.

Yet, among these eleven, there was one who withstood it.

Lie Yan of Sword Burial Peak wielded the Nine-Turn Heavenly Star Sword, erecting a wall of blades that blocked Lin Zhan’s assault. He emerged unscathed and expanded the sword barrier, shouting, “Fall back quickly!”

He sought to shield his two comrades.

Lin Zhan’s sword energy grew stronger when facing formidable foes. Now, he unleashed the full might of his sword’s aura, sending successive waves crashing against Lie Yan’s sword barrier.

Puff! Puff!

Two sword aura waves penetrated. Lie Yan’s two companions, unable to withstand, failed to evade and perished instantly.

Seeing them beyond help, Lie Yan’s pressure eased, and he tightened his sword barrier’s defense.

In an instant, the battlefield blazed like a forest of fiery blossoms and silver sparks, resonating with clashing metallic sounds.

“This place is lively indeed, Lie Yan. Let us lend you a hand!”

Two sharp sounds of rushing air assaulted the ears from behind Lin Zhan. He immediately knew two more formidable foes had arrived.

With the black sword’s power, he surged forward, aiming to break through Lie Yan’s sword barrier.

At the same moment, the black-robed shield bearer regained composure, spat a mouthful of refined blood into the shield, which began to spin, rising like a giant war wheel, cutting toward Lin Zhan’s waist.

So this shield was a magical weapon, capable of both offense and defense.