Everyone thought Lin Qiu would happily agree.
After all, having more skills never hurt, especially when it came to an inheritance of this caliber.
But Lin Qiu smiled.
He smiled brightly, as if he'd just heard the funniest joke in the world.
"You want to teach me swordsmanship?"
Lin Qiu looked at Chen Xin. There was no mockery in his eyes, only an emotion called pity.
"Old man, I admire your confidence."
"But your sword..."
Lin Qiu shook his head. "It's too weak."
"Weak?"
Chen Xin froze.
He had heard countless judgments in his life.
Some said his sword was domineering, some said it was fierce, and some said it was merciless.
But no one had ever dared call his sword "weak."
"My Seven Kill Sword has the greatest attack power under heaven!" Chen Xin protested, his voice rising. "Even His Holiness the Pope wouldn't dare take the full force of my sword head-on without using that staff!"
Lin Qiu sighed.
The natives of Douluo Continent truly had narrow horizons.
Their so-called swordsmanship was nothing more than energy released by piling up Soul Power.
Compared to the supreme sword intent of the Shrouding Heavens World, where a single blade of grass could cut down the sun, moon, and stars, it was like kindergarten children fighting with sticks.
"Since you refuse to believe me..."
Lin Qiu casually plucked a loose thread from his sleeve.
Yes, an ordinary, everyday thread.
"Then I'll show you what a true sword is."
Lin Qiu pinched the thread, fine as a strand of silk, between two fingers. His tone was as casual as if he were discussing what to eat for dinner.
"Watch closely."
"I'll demonstrate it just once."
The instant his words fell.
Lin Qiu's bearing changed.
Before, he had been a languid young noble.
Now, he was a peerless divine blade, drawn from its sheath.
An ancient, desolate, boundless aura instantly enveloped the entire plaza before Pope Palace.
There was no earth-shaking surge of Soul Power.
Nor were there any dazzling Martial Soul effects.
Lin Qiu simply raised his hand, pinched the thread, and made a light stroke toward the sky.
That stroke.
Was slow.
So slow that everyone could see his every movement.
And yet it was also fast.
So fast that even the light itself seemed unable to escape in time.
In everyone's sight.
The limp little thread seemed to transform into a sword grass reaching from heaven to earth.
The phantom appeared for only an instant.
But the terrifying sword intent, as if it could cleave heaven and earth apart and sever the ages, made the souls of everyone present tremble.
Chen Xin, a sword cultivator, was especially affected.
His pupils shrank to pinpricks.
In his perception, the world vanished.
Only that sliver of cold light remained.
That wasn't a Soul Skill.
That was the Dao!
The Great Dao of the Sword!
Rip—
A faint sound rang out.
Everyone looked up in horror.
The clouds in the sky.
The clouds, a thousand meters thick, had been sliced cleanly apart, leaving a rift thousands of meters long!
Sunlight poured through the opening, forming a golden curtain.
A single thread.
Had cleaved the sea of clouds.
No Soul Ring had flashed.
No Soul Power had surged.
This was pure sword intent.
Dead silence fell over the plaza.
It was even quieter than when Bibi Dong had smashed a Titled Douluo flying with a single blow of her staff.
Because what they had just witnessed had already surpassed everything they understood about the nature of power.
This wasn't something a Soul Master could do!
Chen Xin stood rooted to the spot, staring blankly.
The Seven Kill Sword Martial Soul in his hand had somehow vanished on its own.
His body trembled.
Not from fear, but from the confusion that came when his faith crumbled.
Before that dazzling sword, which would astonish the ages—
His Seven Kill Sword truly was just as Lin Qiu had said.
Too weak.
Like a firefly compared to the bright moon.
"W-what kind of sword technique is that?"
Chen Xin dropped to his knees with a thud, tears streaming down his face.
He felt as though he'd wasted the past several decades of his life.
"The Grass Sword Art."
Lin Qiu casually tossed aside the thread, now reduced to ashes, and said coolly, "I only practiced it a little. It's nothing worthy of an elegant audience."
Only practiced it a little?
Nothing worthy of an elegant audience?
Everyone present wanted to drop to their knees and bow to this man.
You've pierced a hole in the sky, and you call that practicing a little?
In the corner.
The Shrek Academy team had long since huddled together.
Zhu Zhuqing's usually cool eyes were now frighteningly bright.
She stared fixedly at Lin Qiu on the high platform, her eyes filled with irrepressible admiration and yearning.
This was what it meant to be strong!
This was the kind of power she had dreamed of!
By comparison, her fiancé Dai Mubai, who only knew how to run away and chase after women, was nothing but a lump of mud.
As for Dai Mubai—
He was currently cowering behind Zhao Wuji, trembling like a leaf.
His face was as white as paper, and his teeth chattered nonstop.
Lin Qiu's sword had reminded him of that look.
The look in the eyes of the man who had killed his eldest brother, Dai Weisi.
It was terrifying.
How could someone so terrifying exist in this world?
He didn't even dare look up at Lin Qiu, afraid he would draw his attention.
All he wanted was to escape Spirit Hall as quickly as possible, and get as far away as he could.
He never wanted to see that devil again!
Even Ning Rongrong, who had been showing off the Nine Treasure Glazed Tile Pagoda moments ago, now had her little mouth hanging open. She hadn't even noticed the fruit pit fall from her hand.
"Brother Lin Qiu... I had no idea you were this amazing..."
Ning Rongrong murmured, her little face flushed. "You're ten thousand times stronger than those Titled Douluo Dad talks about!"
Bibi Dong stood to the side, watching her son display his might. Her pride practically overflowed.
She walked up and gently straightened Lin Qiu's collar.
Her touch was so tender she seemed like a different person.
"Are you tired?"
Bibi Dong asked softly. "There's nothing to say to these frogs in a well. Let's go back and rest."
Lin Qiu nodded.
Showing off took energy too.
Though that move had looked effortless, he had used the Grass Sword Art trial card he'd received from the system, and it had still taken quite a toll on his mind.
"Everyone."
Bibi Dong turned around, her lofty, imposing papal majesty restored.
"Today's farce ends here."
"If the Seven Treasure Glazed Tile Sect refuses to accept this, you can come challenge us at any time."
"But next time..."
Bibi Dong smiled coldly. "I won't stop at making a couple of craters."
With that.
She took Lin Qiu's hand and turned to walk into Pope Palace, under the awed gazes of the Titled Douluo.
Only after the two of them had disappeared completely—
Did everyone in the plaza finally feel the mountain weighing on their hearts lift.
"Phew..."
Ning Fengzhi let out a long breath, realizing his back was soaked through with cold sweat.
He looked at the dazed Chen Xin beside him and gave a bitter smile.
"Uncle Sword, let's go."
"Spirit Hall... the times have changed."
Deep within Pope Palace.
Lin Qiu lay comfortably on the wide chaise longue.
Bibi Dong peeled a grape herself and fed it to him.
"Qiu'er, was that move really just something you practiced a little?"
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