If someone had asked before this, what was the grandest and most beautiful sight you had ever seen in your life?
Among the thousand-odd people above and below the Life and Death Arena, there might have been a thousand strange and varied answers. But after today, the vast majority would have only one answer: the blossoming of the Blade Flower.
The emerald "river" flowing through the heavens wound downward, charging like galloping horses, blazing with heat, as though it wished to wash clean every filth and evil thought in the human world. It was incomparably pure, incomparably immaculate blade qi.
Yet when that unimaginably mighty blade qi collided with the power of a blade qi storm, it actually began to flow back.
The two forces intertwined and collided without end, canceling each other out before swelling anew. Gradually, some twenty meters above the arena, a Blade Flower bloomed—watered by blade qi, forged from blade qi.
When ordinary flowers bloomed, their colors were charming and vivid, their fragrance assailed the senses. The Blade Flower, spanning a hundred zhang, was merely a pale, transparent stream of water and carried not the slightest scent, yet its magnificence surpassed them by countless billions of times.
More than a thousand pairs of eyes stared blankly at the Blade Flower above the arena, stupefied as though they had fallen into a dream.
What kind of mystical power, what kind of indescribable coincidence, could create such a wondrous sight?
At that moment, over a hundred blade wielders of no small skill cast aside their weapons and fell to their knees together, weeping bitterly. This was neither sorrow nor pain, but uncontrollable joy—the reaction of those who pursued the Dao and had found it.
In that flower, at that very moment, different swordsmen and different blade wielders could