Inside the Mist Mystic Temple.
Thunder rampaged, obliterating everything in its path. The temple's structures were reduced to ruins, and even the mountain-protecting formation could not withstand the onslaught, shattering into scattered motes of light.
Since Chen Mouguang and his companions had a clear objective—and were not there to attack people—they merely hindered the disciples of Mist Mystic Temple without resorting to lethal force. Not a single severe injury was inflicted.
When the colossal thunderous sword descended, everyone fled in panic. No one dared to drag others down beneath such devastation. They only cursed their parents for not giving them extra legs and regretted slacking off during their escape technique training.
The grand elder of Mist Mystic Temple wasted no time, gathering the remaining disciples within the sect and swiftly leading them away. Other conscientious elders followed suit, shepherding any visible disciples to safety.
A rare few from the Eighteen Immortal Sects even took fleeing Mist Mystic Temple disciples under their wing—whether out of benevolence or for future interrogation remained unclear.
Thus, with Daoist Yuyang deliberately holding back, nearly everyone within Mist Mystic Temple managed to escape unscathed.
The thunder raged violently, yet neither Daoist Yuyang nor Zhang Daotan was touched by its fury.
Zhang Daotan glanced around, his voice tinged with realization as he murmured,
"Is this… the Great Unity Divine Art?"
A soft, mocking chuckle followed his words.
"Hah…"
Zhang Daotan turned toward the sound, only to see Daoist Yuyang’s amused expression, as if he had said something utterly ridiculous.
Then, a calm voice interjected:
"This is the Weakling Cleansing Technique."
A surge of radiant, flowing light erupted, instantly dispersing the thunder within the hall.
Chu Xingchen leisurely twirled a watery sword formed from condensed spiritual energy, his tone relaxed as he remarked,
"Specifically designed to weed out weaklings who can’t even handle an area-of-effect attack."
Daoist Yuyang raised his hand, recalling the thunder, which condensed back into a violet wooden sword in his grasp. His gaze shifted to the spiritual sword in Chu Xingchen’s hand as he inquired,
"Where’s your spiritual treasure?"
"For now, beating you doesn’t require one. Care to show me something more impressive?" Chu Xingchen retorted without hesitation.
There was no way he’d admit mid-battle that he lacked a priceless spiritual treasure like Daoist Yuyang’s.
Unfazed, Daoist Yuyang lunged forward, his wooden sword transforming into a streak of lightning as he slashed toward Chu Xingchen.
The arrogant shall reap what they sow.
In an instant, thunder roared, its oppressive force crushing the earth beneath.
Yet, amidst the tempest, a wisp of azure spiritual light flickered.
It pierced through the storm of lightning, streaking straight toward Daoist Yuyang.
His expression remained serene as white spiritual energy shimmered around his left hand. With a light tap toward the incoming azure light, he murmured,
"Reverse Flow."
The azure radiance detonated violently, dispersing the thunder in an instant.
As the tempest cleared, Chu Xingchen stood with his sword held casually, as if he had merely extended it forward in a simple thrust.
Daoist Yuyang gently pressed a fingertip against the approaching blade’s tip.
"Not bad. No wonder you speak so boldly."
Chu Xingchen chuckled in response. Behind him, one after another, countless azure swords materialized.
You call one sword bold? What about a hundred? A thousand? Ten thousand?
In the span of a breath, an uncountable number of blades filled the surroundings.
The next moment, every sword transformed into streaks of azure light, hurtling toward Daoist Yuyang.
His eyes narrowed. Suddenly, the world seemed to drain of color—everything turned black, save for Daoist Yuyang himself, who stood as the sole point of white.
Where the darkness spread, even the fastest azure sword-rays slowed to a crawl, as though time itself had turned to sludge.
Chu Xingchen, too, appeared immobilized.
Daoist Yuyang calmly released the spiritual sword still trapped in the blackened space, still clutched in Chu Xingchen’s hand. He raised his violet wooden sword and swung mercilessly toward his opponent.
Thunder surged, shattering the few azure blades that had managed to close in around Chu Xingchen.
Yet, just as the strike was about to land—
A faint pulse of unease flickered in Daoist Yuyang’s heart. His gaze sharpened as Chu Xingchen’s previously sluggish movements suddenly regained fluidity.
The spiritual sword in his hand ignored the temporal mire, slashing toward Daoist Yuyang at blinding speed.
At the same time, Chu Xingchen’s mocking laughter rang out.
Daoist Yuyang’s wooden sword instantly altered its trajectory, intercepting the incoming blade.
The moment the two swords clashed, the monochrome domain shattered.
Time resumed its normal flow, and the ten thousand azure swords rained down upon Daoist Yuyang in the blink of an eye.
Chu Xingchen’s spell-forged blade pressed relentlessly against Daoist Yuyang’s peerless spiritual treasure as he sneered,
"Been bullying weaklings for too long? Thought your shoddy tricks would work on me?"
Nearby, Zhang Daotan—who had nearly been caught in the full effect—paled slightly. Without alternative methods or divine willpower, it would have taken him at least a full breath to break free.
In a battle between cultivators of this level, standing still for even a single breath was no different from courting death.
Daoist Yuyang’s expression remained unreadable as he spoke softly,
"Divine Art—Return to the Void."
The purple wooden sword in Daoist Yuyang's hand instantly turned black, and a terrifying pressure emanated from it.
A surge of dreadful spiritual power, so potent it silenced even sound, was drawn from the wooden sword.
Even the spiritual energy sword personally wielded by Chu Xingchen was corroded and destroyed by this annihilating force.
It was a power that bordered on the fundamental.
Facing Daoist Yuyang's unleashed might, Chu Xingchen showed no hesitation and declared in turn:
"Spirit Response Great Art—Supreme Goodness Like Water!"
Daoist Yuyang's brows furrowed slightly… Spirit Response? What kind of technique was this?
He had never heard of it before.
Yet in an instant, a force no weaker than the Supreme Unity Divine Art descended as if from the heavens.
But in the blink of an eye, it enveloped Chu Xingchen's entire being.
Outside the Mist Mystic Temple.
Chen Mouguang, who had been contacting Bai Xuanling to seek reinforcements, turned his gaze back toward the temple.
A brilliant azure light streaked across the sky, descending directly upon the Mist Mystic Temple.
Then, as if guided by the azure radiance, water seemed to pour from the heavens, rushing toward the temple.
Yet this transparent, water-like substance carried with it an aura of destruction so palpable it could be felt even from a great distance.
At this moment, everyone present felt that when this "water" fell, annihilation would follow.
Ye Antao's eyes widened as she urgently turned to Chen Mouguang and asked,
"Is this your big shot’s divine technique, or Daoist Yuyang’s?"
Chen Mouguang let out a bitter laugh. "...I don’t know."
Beside him, Wang Ling couldn’t help but shoot Chen Mouguang a look that said, "What do you even know?"