NABC Page 184
Page 184
Some destinies cannot be forced. Li Changsheng gazed at the deepening twilight outside the window, the distant mountains already silhouetted against a dark blue-green hue.
He recalled the perfect arc of Wei Changxuan's sword when he sheathed it during the day, and suddenly remembered his master's words before his death—the true inheritance of swordsmanship is never about forcing a cow to drink water.
Upon hearing this, Young Master Liu Yue laughed heartily, and as he turned, his wide sleeves slid over and knocked the teacup off the table. The amber-colored tea spilled onto the blue bricks, meandering into a winding stream.
Chapter 317 Wei Changxuan vs. Zhao Yujia!
The disciple then waited quietly for the flowers to bloom! His voice drifted away on the mountain breeze, and the faint sound of the wine flask at his waist could still be heard.
Looking at the tea stains on the ground, Li Changsheng suddenly recalled that equally carefree figure from many years ago.
He couldn't help but raise his hand and gently stroke the wet stains on the table, drawing a faint sword mark on the blue brick.
The bronze bell of Tianqi Academy shattered the morning mist, and the war drums of the second assessment echoed among the clouds.
The boy in the green robe stood on the three-zhang-high platform, his bamboo sword lightly touching the ground. Suddenly, dark vines grew from the cracks in the blue stone bricks, wrapping the arena into a natural barrier.
Today's test will be a real battle! His voice, imbued with spiritual power, made the ears of the thirty-two disciples in the arena tingle. The winner will advance, and the loser will be eliminated!
Amid the clinking of copper coins, the match roster unfolded like flowing water.
Wei Changxuan stared at the three characters "Zhao Yujia" next to his own name, and suddenly felt a weight on his shoulder—the yellow paper crane talisman folded by the Taoist priest of Longhu Mountain was turning to ashes.
It landed on his newly changed black outfit.
Not far away, Zhao Yujia slowly ascended the platform with the steps of Yu, the golden cloud patterns on his Taoist robe gleaming faintly, and the nine-section thunder whip hanging at his waist moving automatically without wind.
"Fellow Daoist Wei, be careful!" Zhao Yujia pointed his fingers like a sword, and three purple talismans shot out from his sleeve.
The talismans burned in the air, crackling and exploding, instantly forming a Three Powers Formation.
With a low shout, a rumble of thunder echoed from the clouds, and three bolts of lightning, each as thick as a bowl, struck down in a triangular pattern, causing the jade arena to gleam with a ghastly white light in the lightning.
Wei Changxuan remained motionless; the Thunder Tribulation Wooden Sword was not yet drawn, but the runes on the surface of the scabbard had already begun to flow.
The moment the first bolt of lightning struck the ground, he suddenly raised his hand, and the lightning bolts bursting from his fingertips collided violently with the heavenly thunder.
The wooden sword was drawn three inches from its sheath with a clang, and purple lightning coiled around its blade like a living snake, actually redirecting the falling thunderbolt and blasting a three-foot-deep scorch mark at the edge of the arena.
"What a brilliant lightning-summoning technique!" exclaimed the audience. Zhao Yujia's expression changed drastically, and he rapidly formed hand seals, transforming the remaining two lightning talismans into a hundred-foot-long electric net that descended upon them.
Fine lightning wove a net across the sky, and even the air crackled with ear-piercing pops.
"Break!" Wei Changxuan roared, and the Thunder Tribulation Wooden Sword was fully unsheathed.
In an instant, time seemed to stand still on the entire arena, and the lightning bolts suddenly lost their direction, slowly sinking like tamed wild horses.
He spun the sword lightly, and the power of lightning flowed into the hilt along the patterns on the blade. Ancient lightning patterns appeared on the surface of the wooden sword, absorbing all the attacks.
Zhao Yujia staggered backward, and the spare talismans in his sleeves fell like snowflakes.
Upon closer inspection, everyone realized that those were all incomplete, fragmented talismans—clearly, his spiritual power had been completely exhausted in the previous exchange.
Wei Changxuan sheathed his sword, the thunder-patterned jade pendant on the tassel still burning hot, reflecting the lingering electric light in his eyes: "You flatter me."
The boy in the green robe clapped his hands gently, his bamboo sword drawing an arc in the air, and the barrier vanished with a roar.
A fierce battle, both sides displaying remarkable skill and composure. Wei Changxuan advances!
Before he finished speaking, Zhao Yujia had already transformed into a streak of light and left the arena, leaving only the charred sword marks on the stage, telling the story of the thrilling duel that had just taken place.
The rising heat on the second arena distorted the air, and Xiahou Mengding's nine-ringed golden-backed saber slashed out, leaving countless afterimages.
Each blade of light was accompanied by a piercing golden ringing sound, like a flock of startled iron geese soaring across the sky.
His dark, tight-fitting clothes were torn apart by the wind from the blade, revealing a hideous scar on his bronze chest—a mark left from his campaigns against the Northern Barbarians.
Chapter 318 Tang Clan's Rain of Pear Blossom Needles!
Qin Lu's Qingfeng sword remained as still as spring water. His white robe fluttered in the fierce wind.
His sword tip always kept a three-inch distance from the blade, and whenever the golden ring grazed past his ear, he would deftly spin to deflect the force.
Brother Xiahou's move, "Sandstorm Sweeps the Moon," lacks the scorching heat of the desert sun.
He suddenly chuckled, using the tip of his sword to pick up half a withered leaf from the ground. One must know that the sword technique is extremely powerful, and one must also take advantage of the momentum.
Xiahou Mengding roared, and the nine golden rings on the blade suddenly flew out of its sheath.
These golden rings, crafted from refined iron mixed with mysterious magnetism, transformed into nine streams of light, weaving an impenetrable net of death in the air.
A gasp erupted from the crowd of onlookers, only to see Qin Lu calmly hold his sword horizontally in front of his chest, the blade gleaming with a warm, bluish light.
Ding--
The golden ring struck the transparent barrier formed by the sword energy, producing a sound like a bell.
The menacing hidden weapons hovered in mid-air, slowly rotating in front of the Qingfeng Sword.
Qin Lu flicked his wrist, and the sword blossomed like a lotus flower. Suddenly, the nine golden rings changed direction and shot back with the force of a thunderbolt!
Xiahou Mengding's pupils contracted sharply, and he parried with all his might, swinging his sword to block. The enormous impact caused his tiger's mouth to split open, and he staggered back seven steps, crashing into the array flags at the edge of the arena.
The banners hummed under the strain, and nine gold rings were deeply embedded in the back of his sword, gleaming coldly in the sunlight.
"Excellent! What a brilliant swordsmanship!" Xiahou Mengding suddenly burst into laughter, blood dripping from the corner of his mouth.
He transformed his swordplay into a chessboard, using defense as offense... I didn't lose this game unjustly! He bowed and his figure vanished into the edge of the arena as a streak of light.
On the third arena, an eerie mist had inexplicably spread. As Yin Luoxia opened and closed her folding fan, nine illusory figures appeared and disappeared in the mist.
Each figure wore the same moon-white ruqun (a type of traditional Chinese dress), with a silver fox hairpin in their hair, yet they launched attacks from different angles.
Some flung out fox tails formed from spiritual energy, some threw out dice with hidden mechanisms, and others directly unleashed talismans burning with ghostly blue flames.
Illusion? Or a clone? Someone in the audience murmured to themselves.
Some observant individuals noticed that these phantoms did not pick up any dust when they stepped on the ground, clearly illusions created using a secret technique of the fox clan.
The real Yin Luoxia was currently hiding within a phantom, waiting for the right moment to launch a fatal attack.
The fog on the third arena grew thicker, and Yin Luoxia's nine illusory figures appeared and disappeared in the mist, each step characterized by the unique, light strides of the fox clan.
The faint outline of a fox tail, visible beneath the moon-white ruqun skirt, swayed gracefully with each movement.
Tang Xuejian bit her lower lip tightly, and the bone-piercing nails from her sleeve shot out like a rainstorm. The sound of them cutting through the air pierced the mist, but all that could be heard were muffled thuds—the poisoned hidden weapons all pierced through the afterimages and drove deep into the wooden stakes at the edge of the arena, scattering sparks.
Miss Tang's methods of chasing stars and the moon are far inferior to those of Tang Lian, the master of Tang Family Fortress.
The three phantoms spoke simultaneously, their voices intertwining to create an eerie resonance. Tang Xuejian's pupils contracted sharply, and she was about to pull the trigger on the hidden weapon box in her hand when all the phantoms suddenly transformed into streams of light, solidifying in mid-air.
Yin Luoxia's folding fan, carrying a sharp gust of wind, grazed her throat, the edge of the fan ribs as sharp as a knife, leaving a thin bloodstain.
Tang Xuejian instinctively reached for the Rainstorm Pear Blossom Needle at her waist, but her fingertips only touched the scattered copper spring parts.
She was then startled to realize that, without her noticing, the intricately designed box had been disassembled into dozens of parts, which were now clattering and rolling around at her feet.
Yin Luoxia lightly tapped her palm with her folding fan, and a faint shadow appeared behind her:
The ingenious mechanisms of Tangjiabao are ultimately still vulnerable to cunning and deceptive tricks.
Chapter 319 Mechanical Beast "Qingfu"!
As dusk settled like an overturned cinnabar bottle, it bathed the entire Tianqi Academy in an increasingly intense hue.
On the westernmost arena, wood chips flew everywhere like snowflakes, and the mechanical beast Qingfu, controlled by Zhuge Yun, spread its wings, which were over ten feet long.
This mechanical bird, meticulously crafted from century-old black wood, emits a mechanical sound similar to the chirping of a real bird with each flap of its wings.
The thirty-six armor-piercing spikes hidden between the wooden wings gleamed coldly, and the phosphorescent flames at the tips of the tail feathers flickered uncertainly in the twilight, like ghostly flames, exuding a mysterious and dangerous aura.
In contrast, Yan Feifei appeared remarkably calm and composed, slowly and deliberately untying the silver ribbon that bound her hair.
With a gentle wave of her hand, the ribbon formed a slipknot in the air, as if weaving an elegant dream.
"Go!" With a sudden snap of Zhuge Yun's fingers, the Qingfu bird swooped down like an arrow released from a bow.
The armor-piercing spikes between the wings emitted a piercing sound as they cut through the air, carrying a sharp killing intent as they hurtled towards Yan Feifei.
At the critical moment, Yan Feifei, as light as a swallow, leaped into the air.
The silver ribbon in her hand instantly transformed into a serpent, coiling around the beak of the blue-bellied bird.
Using the momentum of the mechanical bird's downward descent, she flipped over and landed steadily on the bird's back, her legs clamping tightly onto the wooden body like iron clamps.
The blue-bellied bird sensed the uninvited guest on its back and began to spin wildly, trying to shake off Yan Feifei.
However, the seemingly delicate silver ribbon suddenly tightened and, under the powerful centrifugal force, actually snapped the wooden wing bone!
In an instant, sawdust flew everywhere, creating a truly shocking scene.
The compass in Zhuge Yun's hand emitted a groan of strain, and the star trail patterns on its surface crumbled inch by inch.
It seemed to be telling the story of the mechanical beast's downfall.
He smiled wryly as he looked towards the center of the arena, where he saw Yan Feifei tying her long hair back up with the silver ribbon.
She deftly caught the wood shavings that fell into her hair with a ribbon.
Miss Yan's technique with the Dragon Binding Rope, could it be...? Zhuge Yun's tone was filled with surprise and admiration.
"It's just a trivial skill from the Snow Moon City Sparrow Catcher's Hall." Yan Feifei turned and bowed.
The silver ribbon drew an elegant arc in the air; Young Master Zhuge's mechanical skills were ingenious, but this green-haired bird...
With a flick of her finger, a broken wing bone fell to the ground; the powerful killing move had become a burden.
Asking for flowers
As dusk fell, it turned blood-red, staining the blue tiles of Tianqi Academy amber.
Yan Feifei's fingers moved deftly, and silver ribbons twined around her hair to form an elegant bow.
As she bowed, the silver bells on her ribbon rang out clearly: "Thank you for your kind offer."
The cheers around the arena gradually subsided, and the sixteen bronze lanterns lit up one after another.
The dim light shone on the list of winners, making the names of the sixteen winners shine brightly—Wei Changxuan's name appeared in the flickering candlelight.
His name stands out prominently alongside those of geniuses like Yin Luoxia and Qin Lu.
Wei Changxuan unwrapped the bandage from his wrist, revealing his sweat-soaked inner lining clinging to his arm.
The faint burn marks left by the lightning tribulation wooden sword were proof of his battle with a powerful enemy.
He had just stepped off the stage when he suddenly felt a weight on his shoulder. Sikong Changfeng's tall, thin body had already put his arm around his shoulder.
The laughter made his eardrums ache: Good heavens! The thunder talismans that the old Taoist priests of Longhu Mountain treasure most are like firecrackers in your hands!