Chương 85: Chapter 86: Battle of the Sects, Reversing Heaven and Earth Alone (4)

"So, it seems you are a man of iron resolve," Ming Diao Zhanchen sneered, his voice dripping with mock admiration.

"To refuse submission even at death's door... truly commendable." His expression shifted instantly, turning into a mask of cold, predatory malice.

"However, I have always harbored a particular distaste for those who wear their stubbornness like armor. I refuse to believe your spirit is unbreakable. From this moment forth, I shall snap every bone in your body, one by one, until you beg for the sweet mercy of surrender. Mark my words—I shall not be moved by pity."

"The first!" he declared. Without a heartbeat's hesitation, Ming Diao Zhanchen pointed a finger toward Hei Feng's lower leg. The massive spectral hand hovering over the platform surged with power, pressing down with crushing force. Crack! The sound of splintering bone echoed through the arena, sickeningly sharp. A cold smirk played on Ming Diao Zhanchen's lips as Hei Feng's leg twisted into a grotesque, unnatural angle. The bone within had been ground into fine powder.

"Urgh...!" Within the grip of the spectral hand, Hei Feng's features contorted into a mask of agony. His body trembled violently, yet he clamped his teeth together so hard they threatened to shatter. His eyes, now bloodshot and bulging, remained fixed on Ming Diao Zhanchen, burning with a frantic, primal ferocity.

"The second!" After a brief, cruel pause, Ming Diao Zhanchen noted the madness in his opponent's gaze. His own eyes flashed with ruthless intent as he gestured toward the other leg. Crack!

"The third!" Crack!

"Senior Brother Hei Feng, please! Just surrender! Don't keep holding on!"

"Hei Feng, give up! You are no match for this monster! Come down!"

"Someone save him... please, stop this!" The cries of the Xuanxiao Sect disciples grew increasingly desperate. Some of the younger female disciples, unaccustomed to such visceral brutality, began to sob openly. In a matter of breaths, over a dozen of Hei Feng's bones had been systematically shattered. His limbs hung limp and useless like discarded rags. Blood leaked from his seven orifices, staining his robes and drying into dark, jagged scabs. He looked less like a man and more like a mangled heap of flesh.

Yet, the crimson glow in his eyes only intensified, and he let out low, guttural growls like a cornered beast, his killing intent radiating outward in waves.

"Heh, as expected of a Xuanxiao disciple. You certainly have spine—though perhaps not for long," Ming Diao Zhanchen said, his voice like ice.

"Since your limbs are spent, we shall move to the ribs. Every five breaths, I shall break another, until you find your voice to plead." He raised his hand, preparing to strike again.

"Enough!" Qingxiaozi roared, surging to his feet. The overwhelming aura of a Golden Core cultivator erupted from him, so potent that the clouds above the mountain range began to churn and darken in response to his fury. An invisible pressure slammed into Ming Diao Zhanchen, turning his face ashen. He stumbled back several steps, his breath hitching. This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.

"Qingxiaozi! Do you truly intend to raise your hand against a mere junior?" Before Tiandaozi could even move, Ancestor Ming Diao blurred into motion, positioning himself in front of his grandson. With a casual flick of his sleeve, he neutralized the crushing pressure. Qingxiaozi's eyes were sharp as daggers, his aura vibrating with the intensity of a drawn sword. He glared at Ancestor Ming Diao and hissed, "Your descendant's heart is wretched.

He has used a restriction to seal Hei Feng's voice, preventing him from conceding, and now he intends to grind every bone in his body to dust? This is no longer a duel!" Ancestor Ming Diao's face remained impassive, though a mocking glint danced in his eyes.

"In the history of our sects' wagers, is there a single rule forbidding such tactics? If not, then for a Golden Core expert like yourself to strike at my grandson... isn't that a bit excessive? Or do you truly believe the Qingyan Sect is so easily bullied?"

"You...!" The spiritual power within Qingxiaozi surged like a tidal wave, and faint green light flickered above his head as his killing intent reached a fever pitch.

"Sect Leader Qingxiaozi, I suggest you restrain yourself," Tiandaozi interjected, rising slowly. An aura no less formidable than Qingxiaozi's began to awaken within him, like a primordial beast stirring from its slumber.

"Do you intend to break our pact and ignite a full-scale war?"

"Senior Brother, stay your hand," Dan Chenzi whispered via divine sense, his brow furrowed in concern.

"If we clash with the Qingyan Sect now, both sides will suffer devastating losses. When two tigers fight, one is bound to be injured, and others will surely capitalize on our weakness. Our sect's future cannot be sacrificed for a single moment of rage; otherwise, our grand ambitions will be nothing more than mirror flowers and water moons." Qingxiaozi's expression shifted through a kaleidoscope of emotions. Finally, he let out a sharp, bitter huff.

"In this round, the Xuanxiao Sect concedes." Without waiting for Ming Diao Zhanchen to release his technique, Qingxiaozi acted. He shattered the spectral hand with a single blow, retrieved the unconscious, mangled Hei Feng, and descended from the platform.

"Hmph. Old fool," Ancestor Ming Diao muttered under his breath.

"Once the Qingyan Sect secures that treasure, your Xuanxiao Sect will be wiped from the face of North Yue State." He then turned to his grandson with a warm, encouraging smile.

"Zhanchen, in the coming matches, do as you please. So long as you do not take their lives, you break no rules. If anyone else tries to interfere, neither I nor Sect Leader Tiandaozi will stand idly by." His voice was not loud, yet infused with spiritual power, it carried to every corner of the arena, causing the hearts of the gathered cultivators to skip a beat.

"Yes, Grandfather. I shall not disgrace our sect," Ming Diao Zhanchen replied, a cruel, predatory grin spreading across his face.

"I intend to get very intimate with our fellow Daoists from the Xuanxiao Sect." Satisfied, Ancestor Ming Diao vanished in a streak of light, returning to the Qingyan Sect's seating area.

"Now then," Ming Diao Zhanchen shouted, his voice dripping with arrogance as he pointed a finger toward the younger generation of the Xuanxiao Sect.

"Which of you 'illustrious' disciples is next? I, Ming Diao Zhanchen, will take on all comers!" The disciples he pointed at turned pale, their gazes flickering away, unable to meet his eyes. After a long silence with no response, Ming Diao Zhanchen threw his head back and laughed mockingly.

"What is this? Does the great Xuanxiao Sect, with its two Golden Core masters, not have a single soul with the courage to face me? If that is the case, you should all just surrender now. Why waste any more of my time?" The crowd erupted into hushed, frantic whispers.

"Though he hasn't reached Foundation Establishment, his prowess is easily on par with an early-stage Foundation Establishment cultivator. Xuanxiao Sect is in dire straits."

"They had such momentum with two Golden Core masters and those talented alchemists... but if a single junior from the Qingyan Sect defeats their entire younger generation, their prestige will be shattered."

"The Qingyan Sect's leadership is equal to Xuanxiao's now, but their youth are leagues ahead. It seems the balance of power in North Yue State is shifting."

"If the Xuanxiao Sect is forced to surrender their mountain gate, they will lose all face. Their authority will be gone."