Suffocating Ying Bing, Li Mo's Ultimate Move, The Winner is Decided

This was the first time Little Li had experienced a sudden epiphany on the path of swordsmanship.

His sword abruptly slowed.

No words needed to be spoken.

Opposite him, Ying Bing instinctively matched his pace, easing her offensive.

The moment lasted only a few seconds.

The next instant, when Li Mo swung his blade again, its edge seemed noticeably duller at first glance.

Amidst the intricate dance of sword glares and floral shadows, the Scarlet Sky Sword flickered like a candle in the rain—wavering yet never extinguished.

Instead, its glow only grew stronger.

Yet a glimmer of approval flashed in Ying Bing’s eyes.

He had grasped it.

The essence of wildfire lies in its endless renewal, in the ebb and flow of destruction and rebirth.

Clang! Clang! Clang!—

Crimson and azure sword lights collided dozens of times in the blink of an eye.

To onlookers,

it appeared as though Li Mo, the True Disciple, had been initially suppressed, surviving by the skin of his teeth, only to gradually turn the tide and stand toe-to-toe with Ying Bing.

"Did these two start practicing swordplay in the womb?"

"I can barely follow their movements anymore."

"True Disciple Li’s technique resembles the Wildfire Sword Art, but not quite..."

Their duel had already surpassed most people’s understanding of the Nine Veins Tournament.

This was far beyond the level expected of rising talents.

Gradually, the crowd held their breath, eyes fixed on the arena.

The next moment,

the Scarlet Sky’s momentum surged violently.

Like a wildfire tearing through a downpour, it cleaved through the oppressive rain.

Gasps erupted from the spectators.

Was True Disciple Li about to win?

Would the match conclude so abruptly?

But Li Mo knew the truth—this was Ying Bing deliberately allowing him to refine his sword intent by refusing to alter her stance.

Against this strike, 9,999 out of 10,000 would be helpless. The sole exception was Ying Bing.

Sure enough.

Ting!—

The blade sliced through the wind, poised to pierce Ying Bing—only for the Frost Sky Sword to materialize before it.

The tips of both swords collided with pinpoint precision.

The Scarlet Sky, fueled by its wildfire essence, pressed forward, bending the Frost Sky to its limit.

Yet Ying Bing’s sword intent, flickering like a dying candle, refused to vanish.

Li Mo’s heart tightened.

The scene felt eerily familiar.

Too familiar.

In that split second, he caught the faint curve of Ying Bing’s lips and instantly understood.

Wildfire Sword Intent!

A surge of danger jolted through him. He redoubled his force, redirecting his blade without pause or hesitation, striking again in one seamless motion.

This was the advantage of having thirty-six primary meridians in the Qi-Blood Realm.

His stamina was inexhaustible; there was no fear of overexertion.

Clang!—

The Frost Sky twisted in her grasp, merging the relentless downpour of the Flower-Seeking Sword Art with the undying embers of wildfire.

One sword, two intents!

Wildfire thrived on accumulation and eruption, while the storm’s essence lay in its unyielding, oppressive continuity.

Ying Bing had flawlessly fused them, each compensating for the other’s weaknesses.

Li Mo sighed inwardly.

Ying Bing was still Ying Bing.

Hoping to match her with pure swordsmanship alone had always been a pipe dream.

Of course, Little Li had never planned to win through the blade in the first place.

He disengaged with the Wind Shadow Step, retreating dozens of feet in an instant.

"Impressive," Li Mo admitted sincerely.

"It’s nothing special," Ying Bing replied, sheathing her sword without a trace of arrogance.

In her past life, she hadn’t mastered dual intents until the Observation Divine Realm. For him to push her this far was already remarkable.

What truly astonished her was Li Mo’s endurance and raw power—unmatched by any Qi-Blood Realm cultivator she’d ever encountered.

Was this... also a gift from that legacy he’d obtained?

The arena fell into stunned silence.

Even the elders were momentarily speechless.

The brief exchange had shattered their definitions of "genius."

"How are the rest of us supposed to compete?" Elder Su of Sunset Peak finally exhaled, breaking the quiet.

Once hailed as a prodigy herself, she had only glimpsed sword intent at the Observation Divine Realm and mastered a single form by the Inner Landscape Realm.

These two were on another level entirely...

"Does anyone else get the feeling," Qian Bufan muttered, "that Ying Bing hasn’t even gone all out yet?"

The crowd’s bewilderment deepened.

It was true—swordsmanship was just the tip of the iceberg for Ying Bing.

The legacy of the Abyssal Depths, her innate constitution, even her Inner Breath—none had been tapped into yet.

"Let’s see where this goes," Elder Hanhe said, his gaze fixed on Li Mo.

If Ying Bing was holding back, had that kid shown his full hand either?

As the elders whispered among themselves—

"I’m getting serious now," Li Mo declared.

"I’m a realm above you," Ying Bing countered, studying his determined expression before adding softly:

"Touch even a corner of my robe, and I’ll concede."

It was rare for the "Ice Block" to reveal her domineering side.

A sign that she, too, was fully engaged.

"Deal."

The challenge ignited a spark in Li Mo’s heart.

Or as some might call it—reckless enthusiasm.

The next instant—

Both figures blurred into motion.

Hummm—

The intense aura of blade-like killing intent trembled violently, its mere presence carving deep marks into the blue stone floor.

Li Mo seemed to have transformed into a divine weapon himself—so radiant it hurt to look at him directly.

For the first time, he fully unleashed the Extreme Blade Slaughter Body technique in battle.

From the insights granted by his Heaven’s Eye, he had long known that Ying Bing’s greatest strength was not her swordsmanship.

It was herself.

And so, Little Li decided to meet force with force.

BOOM—

The Chixiao Sword trembled violently, enveloped in a storm of razor-sharp killing intent. The mystical blade had become the eye of the tempest, its overwhelming edge and crushing momentum threatening to swallow Ying Bing whole.

One strength to shatter ten thousand techniques.

This was not something Li Mo had learned from the sword.

At the same time...

As the Frost Sky Sword moved, clouds of iridescent mist bloomed—ethereal yet omnipresent, flickering between existence and nothingness. Within their rise and fall hid a blade’s hidden sharpness.

No sword light could be seen, yet it felt as though ten thousand blades pressed against his skin.

Though he was only fighting Ying Bing alone, Li Mo inexplicably felt surrounded on all sides.

No matter how fiercely he attacked, no matter how relentlessly his blade’s killing intent surged, it barely stirred ripples in the mist.

The spectators were utterly spellbound.

If earlier, the two combatants’ swordplay had already surpassed their understanding, now they couldn’t even tell who held the upper hand.

All they saw were shifting hues of mist and surges of blade energy dissolving into the vast unknown.

The clashing auras of the two even conjured a thin fog in the air.

CLANG—

Li Mo finally caught sight of Ying Bing’s silhouette amidst the illusory mist and struck without hesitation.

Yet instead of parting clouds revealing clear skies, what awaited him was the sight of the young girl’s figure slowly fading away.

A complete miss.

"No wonder she said touching even the hem of her robe would count as a win..."

Li Mo was truly sweating bullets now.

And he knew, deep down, he couldn’t afford to drag this out any longer.

Hidden within the mist’s countless feints was Ying Bing’s inner energy—a frigid, insidious force that seeped into his bones. His thoughts were already growing sluggish.

Soon, even moving would become impossible.

This was the power of a Red Destiny.

This was what it meant to be one born favored by the Martial Dao itself.

Ying Bing—the Ice Block—was so strong it made despair bloom in the hearts of those who faced her.

Even the elders on the high platform sighed imperceptibly.

If they were to fight her, even while suppressing their cultivation to the Inner Breath Realm, not a single one would stand a chance.

They probably wouldn’t last as long as Li Mo had.

And they could see far more than the others.

Ying Bing was using the mist and her inner energy to simulate sword qi.

Compared to Xiao Qin’s crude Inner Breath Externalization, it was like comparing a child’s scribbles to a master’s calligraphy.

And it wasn’t just simple imitation—her techniques shifted between ethereal grace, overwhelming force, and unadorned simplicity, all resonating in perfect harmony.

In one word: Peerless.

In two: Absolutely terrifying.

"Hah..."

"If the mist can conceal a sword... can blade-killing intent do the same?"

Suddenly, Li Mo seemed to grasp something.

Meanwhile, hidden beneath his sleeve, the Stellar Mallet slipped silently into his left hand.

The world around him slowed.

"Hm?"

Ying Bing instantly noticed—even her movements had become sluggish.

And before she knew it, Li Mo was already closing in.

The young man wasn’t using his sword; the Chixiao hung limply in his right hand.

Instead, he raised his left sleeve—or rather, the hammer concealed within it—and brought it down in a slow, inevitable arc.

It wasn’t fast.

Yet it carried a sense of inescapability, as though no matter how far one fled or how nimbly they dodged, there was no avoiding it.

Settling Heaven and Earth!

Ying Bing’s eyes flickered with realization.

The sword qi filling the sky contracted instantly. A wisp of Lunar Yin Force acted as a thread, binding the scattered qi into a single concentrated mass.

BOOM—

Time itself seemed to freeze.

Then, in the next instant, an uncontrollable storm of energy erupted in all directions.

Chaos engulfed the arena.

Shangguan Wencang slammed the table and appeared on the stage in a flash, pressing a single palm downward.

Within his grasp swirled a devouring void—a force that could reduce all things to nothingness, quelling the storm before it could wreak havoc.

His burning gaze locked onto the center of the stage.

Everyone else did the same.

Who won?

But under the scrutiny of countless eyes... silence fell once more.

What had just happened?

Little Li’s strike had shattered the condensed sword qi.

He had unleashed a technique far beyond the capabilities of the Qi-Blood Realm—one that drained even his thirty-six meridian channels of strength, leaving him nearly incapacitated.

Yet that wisp of Lunar Yin Force refused to dissipate, freezing him to the bone.

Damn, it’s cold.

Before he could react, his arms moved on their own—wrapping around Ying Bing’s waist and pulling her down with him as he collapsed.

Thud.

Now sprawled atop her, Little Li’s vision was blocked.

His already sluggish mind could only conjure one thought:

"Even the Ice Block is soft and warm in the right places..."

Ying Bing seemed stunned.

She didn’t push him away immediately.

The crowd: "!?"

The elders: "!!?"

The visiting sect representatives: "!!!?"

Even a passing dog: "???"

Their anxiously suspended hearts...

Finally gave out.

The already chaotic scene descended into absolute pandemonium.