The wind from his palm blasted away every piece of rubble in front of Chu Yunfei. Destructive spiritual power gathered in Zhang Qingfeng's palm, like a miniature sun about to erupt.
It was Zhang Qingfeng's all-out strike.
Once that palm descended, not just Chu Yunfei-even an expert at the early stage of Heavenly Origin Realm would be ground to pieces.
Chu Yunfei looked up at that palm, his dark golden gaze instead becoming exceptionally calm at that moment.
He had already exhausted every means at his disposal.
The forbidden technique's power was rapidly fading, the cracks in his soul were widening, and the spiritual power within him was draining away like an ebbing tide.
His cultivation at the first level of Heavenly Origin Realm was already tottering, liable to fall back to the Spirit Martial Realm or even lower at any moment.
He could not overpower Zhang Qingfeng, but he had no regrets.
Just as Zhang Qingfeng's palm strike was about to descend, a figure swept in from the side, as fast as a bolt of lightning.
The figure appeared in front of Chu Yunfei, his back to him as he faced Zhang Qingfeng.
A longsword left its sheath.
The sword light was like autumn water.
Cool, biting, and filled with upright grandeur.
That streak of sword light collided head-on with Zhang Qingfeng's palm strike, unleashing an earth-shaking boom.
A storm of spiritual power swept out in every direction from the point of impact. Large sections of the stone walls around the martial arena collapsed beneath its force, sending rubble flying dozens of zhang away.
Zhang Qingfeng's palm strike had been blocked.
Not neutralized, but stopped by sheer force.
The entire arena fell deathly silent once more.
The figure stood before Chu Yunfei, tall and slender, his blue-gray robes snapping in the storm of spiritual power.
He wore a woven bamboo hat, its brim pulled low enough to conceal most of his face.
But Chu Yunfei recognized him.
He had recognized him at first glance.
That back, that stance, that way of stepping in front of him without the slightest hesitation.
"Uncle Li..."
Chu Yunfei's voice was so hoarse it seemed forced from his throat.
He had already pulled the silver needle from between his brows. The forbidden technique's power was fading, his Heavenly Origin Realm spiritual power receding like the tide as pain and exhaustion surged through his entire body.
Zhang Qingfeng remained where he was, his brows slightly furrowed.
"Li Qingzhou, what are you trying to do?"
The man in the bamboo hat raised his head, revealing a pair of eyes beneath its brim. They were exceptionally bright, like a bottomless pool of clear spring water deep in the mountains, calm and profound.
Li Qingzhou.
The peak master of Twin Peaks.
A Heavenly Origin Realm expert.
He was also the man who had brought the Giant Que Sword back to the Azure Mystic Sect.
From the start of the contest until now, he had sat beside Zhao Baimei in his bamboo hat without saying a word, like an invisible man.
Everyone's attention had been drawn to the battle on the platform. Almost no one had noticed his presence.
"I said enough," Li Qingzhou repeated, his voice still level. This time, however, his hand settled on his sword hilt.
The movement was slight, so slight it was almost imperceptible.
But Zhang Qingfeng stopped in his tracks.
Twin Peaks.
Among the Azure Mystic Sect's seven main peaks, Twin Peaks was not the strongest, but it had the deepest foundations.
Though Li Qingzhou had few disciples, every one of them was an elite among elites.
More importantly, everyone in the sect knew of the friendship Li Qingzhou had shared with Chu Batian during his lifetime.
When news of Chu Batian's death in battle had reached them, Li Qingzhou had ventured alone into dangerous territory and brought back Chu Batian's sword. He himself had suffered severe injuries and had only now recovered after recuperating all this time.
Such a man now stood before Chu Yunfei.
Zhang Qingfeng could not afford to be careless.
Li Qingzhou removed his bamboo hat, revealing a sharply defined face. He looked to be in his forties, with a short beard beneath his chin, a grave expression, and a detachment in his eyes born of weathering life's vicissitudes.
"The Giant Que Sword belonged to Chu Batian in the first place. Returning it to his son is perfectly reasonable. Does the Azure Mystic Sect have any shame left, behaving like this?"
In the elders' seats, several elders lowered their heads at the same time.
Zhao Baimei remained seated where he was, his aged face betraying no expression, but his clouded eyes kept watching the situation unfold.
He had no standing to involve himself in this matter.
Zhang Qingfeng's expression grew uglier still.
"But he killed the sixth elder and injured Elder Zhou and the seventh elder."
"Hmph."
Li Qingzhou snorted coldly. "So what? They brought it on themselves and have no one else to blame. Four Heavenly Origin Realm elders ganged up on a boy who had only just broken through to the Spirit Martial Realm. If word gets out, where will the Azure Mystic Sect hide its face? If he killed one of them instead, they can only blame their own incompetence."
His words left them no quarter.
Zhou Huanzhang's face alternated between green and white. Blood still seeped from his chest wound, and he was a wretched sight from head to toe. He wanted to argue, but swallowed the words on the tip of his tongue.
Because Li Qingzhou had spoken the truth.
Four Heavenly Origin Realm cultivators had ganged up on one Spirit Martial Realm cultivator. Whatever means that Spirit Martial Realm cultivator had used, it would sound disgraceful if word got out.
Especially since he had killed one of them and severely wounded two others.
They had disgraced themselves utterly.
Zhang Qingfeng remained silent for a long time, seemingly considering something.
The martial arena was so quiet that the wind could be heard whimpering through the rubble.
Thousands of pairs of eyes watched the standoff between the sect master and Li Qingzhou, not daring even to breathe loudly.
Finally, his face dark, Zhang Qingfeng withdrew his palm.
The fluctuations of spiritual power slowly dissipated, and the crushing pressure faded from the air. As though their bonds had all been loosened at once, everyone let out a long breath in unison.
Zhou Huanzhang was filled with resentment, but the sect master had already backed down. He could not defy the sect master's decision.
Clutching the wound on his chest, he shot one last sinister glare in Chu Yunfei's direction.
The hatred in that gaze seemed almost tangible.
He had still failed to get his hands on the Giant Que Sword.
Zhou Huanzhang's heart felt as though it were bleeding.
The tense atmosphere in the martial arena finally eased. The spectators seemed to awaken from a dream, their whispers gradually merging into a buzzing din.
Li Qingzhou turned around and looked down at Chu Yunfei, who was half-propped against the rubble.
The forbidden technique's power had faded completely, and Chu Yunfei's cultivation had fallen back to the first level of Spirit Martial.
There was scarcely an uninjured spot anywhere on his body. His robes were soaked in blood, and several of his bones were cracked. Though the cracks in his soul within his sea of consciousness had temporarily stabilized with Xiaoxiao Dragon's help, there was no knowing how long a full recovery would take.
But his hand had remained tightly clenched around the Giant Que Sword.
His knuckles were white, and he had not loosened his grip for even a moment.
Li Qingzhou looked at that hand gripping the sword hilt and fell silent for a moment.
"Back then, I brought the Giant Que Sword back to the sect instead of giving it straight to you because I thought you lacked the strength to keep it safe. In your previous condition, carrying the Giant Que Sword would only have brought disaster upon your head."
"Now it seems I underestimated you."
Chu Yunfei raised his head and looked at the taciturn middle-aged man before him.
Scenes from his memories welled up in his heart.
When he was little, Li Qingzhou had often visited their home and shared drinks with his father at the stone table. The two of them would drink wine from large bowls and loudly debate the way of the sword.
Sometimes they argued until their faces flushed red, but the next day, they would spar again as though nothing had happened.
He and his father were not brothers by blood, but they were closer than blood brothers.
When his father had died in battle, it was Li Qingzhou who had braved a nine-in-ten chance of death to bring the Giant Que Sword back.
"Uncle Li."
Chu Yunfei's eyes reddened beyond his control.
Throughout this entire day, he had not shown the slightest weakness from beginning to end.
Not when Zhou Huanzhang had sent him flying with a punch, not when four Heavenly Origin Realm cultivators had surrounded him, and not when the sect master had embedded him in the stone wall with a palm strike.
But the moment Li Qingzhou stepped in front of him, the string he had kept taut all day suddenly slackened.
Li Qingzhou patted his shoulder very gently, yet Chu Yunfei could feel something weighty within that touch.
"Go on. With me here, they can't do anything to you."
Li Qingzhou's hand left his shoulder.
"Take good care of yourself from now on."
Chu Yunfei gritted his teeth and used the Giant Que Sword to push himself up from the rubble. His body swayed a few times, but he finally steadied himself.
Thousands of pairs of eyes watched him from behind.
Not a single person stopped him.
Because Li Qingzhou stood where he was, his hand resting on his sword hilt as he watched Chu Yunfei's retreating figure.
In the guest seats.
The moment Chu Yunfei walked out of the martial arena, Nangong Wuhen withdrew his gaze. The smile vanished from his lips, replaced by a calculation so calm it bordered on icy.
The Giant Que Sword.
The legacy of the ancient Heaven-Slaying Sword Emperor.
He was determined to obtain that sword.
Nangong Wuhen rose, turned away from the guest seats, and vanished soundlessly into the dusk.