Chapter Eighty-Seven: The Duel of Swords

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Faced with the terrifying soul perception that Yang Yan revealed, a chilling murderous intent surged abruptly within Leng Yuetian’s heart.

The relationship between Jade Sword Pavilion and the Xu family was nothing more than a partnership of mutual interests. Thus, even with Xu Shaoguang dying at Yang Yan’s hands, Leng Yuetian remained largely unmoved.

What he had not anticipated, however, was that he, who had waded into these troubled waters for the generous reward promised by the Xu family, had gained nothing but loss; in the course of dealing with Yang Yan and his companions, even the Crimson Refining Cauldron had slipped from his grasp.

This was Jade Sword Pavilion’s most advanced artifact, and he had taken it out in secret, without his father’s knowledge. If the latter were to find out, not even his status as the young master would spare him from a severe punishment. Therefore, he had to snatch the Crimson Refining Cauldron back from Yang Yan.

Moreover, as the foremost among the younger generation of Hanxiang City, Leng Yuetian harbored a pride all his own.

He certainly had the credentials for such arrogance. With the cultivation talent of a fifth-grade innate spiritual body, he had reached the peak of the fourth stage of the Spirit Sense Realm at only fifteen years of age—a strength that even surpassed Liu Zhengqing!

From childhood, he had grown up surrounded by flattery and envious gazes. Throughout the younger generation of Hanxiang City, he had never met a rival; since the beginning of his cultivation, he had never suffered defeat against any peer.

Yet today, what he had assumed would be a one-sided, overwhelming victory was completely overturned by the indifferent-faced youth before him. For someone who always considered himself superior, this was nothing short of humiliation.

At this thought, with a frosty glint in his eyes, Leng Yuetian no longer held back. The power of his peak fourth-stage Spirit Sense Realm erupted instantaneously. Azure-green Wood Essence surged forth like a tangible torrent, pouring ceaselessly into the Spirit Serpent Sword!

A resonant hum sounded as the mighty spiritual energy flooded in. The Spirit Serpent Sword glowed verdantly, emitting a clear, low chime, and the layered fluctuations of energy within it demanded Yang Yan’s full attention.

This opponent, one could say, was the strongest Yang Yan had faced since his battle with Xu Hongfei! Though he now regarded Leng Yuetian with gravity, he was still far from seeing him as a true threat. After all, even Xu Hongfei, at the peak of the fifth stage, did not daunt him—he could fight him as an equal. Leng Yuetian, clearly, was not yet qualified.

With a single thought, the mighty water-element spiritual power in Yang Yan’s Qi Sea burst forth, rushing toward the Cold Moon Remnant Frost Sword in his palm. As the transparent water essence enveloped the already silvery, crystalline blade, it gained a further clarity and chill, like flowing water—cold and pure.

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In that instant, as Yang Yan watched, a shadow flickered before his eyes, and in the next heartbeat, a specter-like figure materialized in front of him. At the same time, a long sword of spiritual power, as serpentine as a giant python, stabbed sharply toward Yang Yan’s throat from an almost impossible angle!

Sensing the terrifying spiritual energy surging on the verdant serpent sword, Yang Yan dared not be careless. With a swift twist of his wrist, he angled the Moonshadow Remnant Frost Sword downward before himself, ready to block the ferocious strike!

A crisp clang rang out as the snake-shaped sword, a streak of light, struck hard against the spine of the Remnant Frost Sword. Sparks scattered, while a wave of terrifying energy rippled outward from the point of collision.

Under such a surge, Yang Yan’s robes fluttered wildly. Even his right hand, gripping the Remnant Frost Sword, was numbed by the impact. Amid his mild astonishment, his eyes blazed with fervent fighting spirit.

From that exchange, Yang Yan could sense that Leng Yuetian’s arrogance was not unfounded. The seemingly thunderous attack just now had only been a ruse; the real killing blow was a hidden force concealed within the thick green glow—a secret technique.

Wood element spiritual power was inherently endless and enduring. Leng Yuetian had comprehended this quality and applied it in combat. Coupled with his fifth-grade innate spiritual body, he truly deserved the title of genius.

Such an attack, in fact, was remarkably similar in principle to the “Resonance Force” that Yang Yan had grasped through his own water essence—a convergence of different paths to the same wondrous destination. Though Leng Yuetian was disagreeable, he was undoubtedly a worthy opponent.

“I’d like to see whose hidden force is stronger—yours or the Resonance Force I’ve mastered!”

At this thought, Yang Yan’s heroic spirit surged. The invisible power of his soul burst forth from his brow, fusing with the long sword in his hand!

Clang! Clang! Clang!

The crisp ring of metal echoed through the forest as Yang Yan and Leng Yuetian darted back and forth. Each collision of blue and silver light unleashed a violent storm of spiritual power, dazzling to behold.

Yang Yan was utterly exhilarated. It had been a long time since he had lost himself in such pure sword intent! With his increasingly refined control over soul power, the resonance he felt with the Remnant Frost Sword was now clearer and more vivid than ever.

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Now, he could truly sense the “sword intent” emanating from the blade. Each soft hum and tremor of the Remnant Frost Sword resonated within his heart. In this communion between man and sword, Yang Yan’s combat style grew ever more free and unrestrained. His moves seemed ordinary, casual, but beneath the surface, substance mingled with illusion, concealment with revelation—a myriad of transformations, a hidden universe.

In contrast to Yang Yan’s effortless composure, Leng Yuetian grew increasingly alarmed. His pride had always stemmed from his unique mastery of the wood element’s hidden force, yet now it appeared Yang Yan had also derived a form of attack from his water element!

Every time their blades met, Leng Yuetian felt layer upon layer of spiritual power crashing into him from the Spirit Serpent Sword, like endless waves, reverberating within his body. This “resonance” Yang Yan wielded seemed even more subtle and relentless than his own hidden force.

The realization sent murderous intent surging within Leng Yuetian’s heart.

He prided himself on being nearly unrivaled among the younger generation of Jinzhou. To have comprehended a new mode of attack from one’s own innate spirit—at such a young age—was an achievement he believed belonged to him alone.

Yet now, this blow was almost too much to bear.

Yang Yan had not only dismantled his Spirit-Burning Fire Array, but had also seized the Crimson Refining Cauldron. Even the attack he prided himself upon was being thoroughly suppressed by Yang Yan. If not for his inherent advantage in strength and the superior grade of his innate spirit, he would have already been defeated.

In other words, if Yang Yan’s cultivation matched his own at the peak of the fourth stage, there would be only one outcome to their contest: defeat.

The thought filled Leng Yuetian with a sense of humiliation. A man as self-regarding as he could not allow another “genius” to rise above him.

In the next moment, under the pressure of wounded pride, his humiliation transmuted into burning fury and lethal intent.