Four-Way Confrontation!

"This... this is impossible!"

"How could a Level Ninety-Six Title Douluo... how could he possibly be this strong?"

The Crimson-Eyed Soul Douluo's voice trembled, his crimson eyes filled with disbelief.

Chen Xin still stood in midair, his lean figure resembling an ancient mountain at this moment.

He finally spoke. His voice was old, yet carried a calmness that seemed to have endured through the ages.

"Level Ninety-Six?"

He shook his head slightly.

"Do you think that the difference between Title Douluos is merely a disparity in Soul Power Levels?"

"I have cultivated the sword for ninety years. Countless souls have perished beneath the Seven Kill Sword."

"But what makes me draw my sword has never been numbers."

He paused and looked at the Crimson-Eyed Soul Douluo.

"It is... qualifications."

The moment his words fell, the Crimson-Eyed Soul Douluo's expression changed drastically, and he abruptly retreated!

At the same time, he formed hand seals. The crimson saber transformed into a sky full of saber shadows, layering over one another to protect his entire body!

He was afraid!

Truly afraid!

Five Soul Douluos had died in an instant!

An Eighty-Eighth Rank Soul Douluo like him was nothing before Chen Xin!

But he had only retreated thirty meters when an overwhelming Sword Intent, like an inescapable net, enveloped him!

He looked up and saw that Chen Xin was still standing where he had been, without moving even half a step.

Only those calm eyes were watching him.

Then, sword light rose again.

This time, the sword left its sheath.

The instant the Seven Kill Sword left its sheath, a silver-white streak swept across the sky!

The sword light was too dazzling, so dazzling that it eclipsed every other light between heaven and earth!

The sword light was too sharp, so sharp that even the void seemed to be split apart!

The Crimson-Eyed Soul Douluo frantically circulated his Soul Power. Layers upon layers of crimson saber shadows filled the sky, numbering in the hundreds and thousands!

But before that single silver-white streak, a thousand sabers and ten thousand shadows shattered in an instant!

Puchi—!

The sword light swept past.

The Crimson-Eyed Soul Douluo's body stiffened.

He lowered his head and looked at the thread-thin line of blood across his chest.

Then, his upper body slowly slid off.

Blood gushed forth.

His corpse crashed to the ground.

Five Soul Douluos—one Eighty-Eighth Rank and four above Level Eighty—all died.

From the moment Chen Xin attacked until it ended, only ten breaths had passed.

The battlefield fell deathly still.

The surviving guards of Spirit Hall stood frozen like statues, even forgetting to breathe.

Tie Shan's legs went limp, and he dropped directly to his knees.

Ying Shu's body, hidden in the shadows, trembled violently.

The two Red Robe Cardinals, Claude and Jason, exchanged a glance. Both saw shock and relief in the other's eyes.

They were relieved that this supreme master of the Sword Dao stood on their side.

Even if he was merely "passing by."

Lan Aotian sat on the carriage shaft, watching the scene from afar.

His expression remained calm, but a trace of appreciation flashed through his eyes.

What a sword.

Truly, what a sword.

Chen Xin's sword had already transcended the bounds of Soul Skills and reached the level of the "Dao."

That was not merely the might of a Level Ninety-Six Soul Power cultivation. It was also an ultimate comprehension of the laws of the sword.

Every sword strike pointed directly at the source, without a single unnecessary movement.

This was the inheritance of the Seven Kill Sword.

This was the edge of Jian Douluo.

If he did not use the Blue Silver Emperor's true form, the Three Hundred Thousand Year Soul Ring, the Palm World, and all his other trump cards, and relied solely on his Level Ninety-Five Soul Power to fight Chen Xin...

His chances of victory would probably be less than thirty percent.

Interesting.

The corners of Lan Aotian's mouth lifted slightly.

But he was not afraid. Instead, he grew even more excited.

Only with powerful experts like this in the world would it not be boring.

Chen Xin sheathed his sword and slowly descended from the air.

There was still not the slightest ripple of Soul Power around him. Under the sunlight, his lean figure even appeared somewhat stooped.

But at this moment, no one dared to look directly at his back.

He walked to the corpse of the Crimson-Eyed Soul Douluo and looked down at it.

Then, his gaze slowly rose, passing over Spirit Hall's defeated remnants before landing on the convoy that had stopped in the distance.

More precisely, it landed on the figure in the deep-blue jinzhuang sitting on the carriage shaft.

Their eyes met.

Chen Xin's eyes remained calm, like an ancient well without ripples.

But his right hand tightened slightly around the hilt of his sword.

Lan Aotian did not move.

He merely met Chen Xin's gaze in silence, his eyes calm and showing neither evasion nor awe.

After a moment, Chen Xin withdrew his gaze and turned toward the Seven Treasure Glazed Tile Sect's camp.

"Rongrong, that young girl, must be getting impatient."

He muttered to himself, his voice scattering in the wind.

In the distance, Ning Rongrong stood beside the carriage, rising onto her toes to look this way, her little face filled with excitement and admiration.

Ning Fengzhi stood beside her and gently patted his daughter's shoulder, but his gaze passed over Chen Xin's back and landed in the direction of Spirit Hall's convoy.

That deep-blue figure sitting on the carriage shaft gave him an inexplicable sense of wariness.

Who is that person?

From beginning to end, he had not attacked, approached, or even released the slightest ripple of Soul Power.

He had simply watched from afar.

Yet to remain so calm before such a brutal battlefield, and to meet the gaze of his Uncle Jian so fearlessly...

He was definitely no ordinary person.

A thoughtful look flashed through Ning Fengzhi's eyes.

At this moment, Lan Aotian had already withdrawn his gaze.

He lightly patted the carriage shaft and said to Claude, who was still kneeling on the ground, "Go take charge of the battlefield and count the casualties. Collect all the storage Soul Tools on the five Soul Douluos' bodies."

Claude suddenly came to his senses and hurriedly acknowledged the order before leading the guards forward at a jog.

Lan Aotian remained seated on the carriage shaft.

He looked at the lean figure gradually disappearing into the distance, then at the girl in the white dress within the Seven Treasure Glazed Tile Sect's camp, and finally let his gaze fall on Ning Fengzhi.

The middle-aged man standing beside the carriage with a gentle smile was also looking at him.

Their gazes met across the distance.

Lan Aotian gave a slight nod in greeting.

Ning Fengzhi was slightly startled, then also nodded with a smile in response.

With this simple exchange of glances, both sides already had their own calculations.

Lan Aotian knew that he had attracted the attention of the Seven Treasure Glazed Tile Sect's sect master.

Ning Fengzhi, meanwhile, was certain that the man in the deep-blue jinzhuang sitting among Spirit Hall's convoy was no ordinary guard.

But neither of them made any further move.

For a first contact, they had stopped at just the right point.

The rest could wait for the right opportunity.

Night fell.

Spirit Hall's convoy and the Seven Treasure Glazed Tile Sect's camp were separated by three li, each setting up camp and resting.

Claude respectfully brought the storage Soul Tools of the five Soul Douluos before Lan Aotian.

Lan Aotian did not inspect them closely and casually put them away.

He sat cross-legged inside the tent with his eyes closed, regulating his breathing as he recalled Chen Xin's sword strike from the day.

That seemingly simple sword strike actually contained the core essence of the Seven Kill Sword Dao.

Using intent to control the sword—where intent reached, the sword arrived; nothing could withstand it, and nothing could not be broken.

His path with the Blue Silver Emperor focused on the Law of Life, completely different from the Path of Killing.

But different paths led to the same destination.

Chen Xin's ultimate control over the Sword Dao had deepened his understanding of the "Dao" by another level.

After a long time, he opened his eyes, a trace of enlightenment flashing within them.

"The Law of Life can also kill."

He spoke softly to himself.

"The Palm World and the Holy Emperor of Creation ultimately aren't meant for hiding in a Small World and barely eking out an existence."

"Rather... wherever I am, there is the world."

He rose and walked out of the tent.

The night wind was cool, and stars filled the sky.

In the distance, the Seven Treasure Glazed Tile Sect's camp was brightly lit, with the crisp laughter of a girl faintly drifting over.

Lan Aotian stood with his hands behind his back, gazing at those lights as the corners of his mouth lifted slightly.

Ning Fengzhi.

Chen Xin.

The Seven Treasure Glazed Tile Sect.

This chance encounter had been more valuable than he had expected.

And the true contact had yet to come.

No need to hurry.

He raised his head and looked toward the north.

That was the direction of Spirit City.

It was also the center of the storm.

And he was walking toward that center, step by step.