Hundred Schools of Thought — Yin-Yang School!
Many spectators were stunned; others felt a wave of nostalgia.
A school nearly forgotten by time had just flashed its fangs once more.
Great Xuan Academy truly embodied the strengths of all Hundred Schools, gathering every known path of cultivation into one place.
It had to be admired.
Mo Beike had walked the world alone, collecting ancient classics, compiling countless cultivation methods from the jianghu.
Those methods might not be the strongest individually,
but each carried unique potential.
Perhaps that was the Academy’s true purpose.
The army raised cultivators for war—simple, brutal, efficient.
The Academy sought to forge a brilliant, diverse cultivation civilization,
to let future generations walk myriad colorful paths.
Maybe… that was Young Lord Lu’s vision all along:
a richer, more vibrant cultivation world.
Inside the Academy, students studied pill refinement, artifact forging, talisman crafting—every branch had its devotees.
Dantai Xuan had poured immense resources into making it flourish.
Overlord fell silent.
Outside the field, Xu Chu was speechless.
They had seen it clearly.
Lu Jiulian—one step, one defeat. Nine steps, nine Xiang Family soldiers down.
But it wasn’t just Lu Jiulian’s terrifying dominance.
The other eight Academy students had perfectly supported him.
Arrays, talismans, poisons, hidden weapons—every auxiliary art amplified Lu Jiulian’s strength to its absolute peak.
That was why he could steamroll a nine-man military formation.
On the field,
only Zhao Zixu remained.
The Yin-Yang student he had pinned smiled faintly.
Zhao Zixu’s body tensed like ice.
Team battle—only him left.
Lu Jiulian and eight Academy students gazed at him calmly.
Zhao Zixu slowly rose, spear point scraping the ground, eyes burning with unyielding resolve.
The commander’s plan had failed.
But Zhao Zixu had not.
“Fight!”
He roared.
Xiang Family spirit: even if only one man remained, never retreat.
His spear shot forth like a dragon—sharp, terrifying, making the Academy students’ scalps tingle.
He really was strong—the best of Xiang Family’s new blood.
Lu Jiulian’s face grew solemn.
He drew his sword and stepped forward.
Seven steps—clashing furiously with Zhao Zixu.
The other Academy students didn’t just watch.
One uncorked a gourd; with an incantation, a swarm of venomous spirit insects poured out.
The hidden-weapons student dashed in circles, projectiles erupting from every sleeve and pocket.
Pfft!
Zhao Zixu, locked in desperate combat with Lu Jiulian, began bleeding from dozens of wounds.
Yet he still stood.
Still fought.
“Surrender,” Lu Jiulian said.
Blood dripped from Zhao Zixu’s mouth. He grinned and shook his head.
“I can still fight.”
Lu Jiulian fell silent, but respect flickered in his eyes.
This was the difference.
Soldiers carried a spirit no academy could teach—something eternal.
Lu Jiulian nodded slightly.
So he granted Zhao Zixu a clean end.
Sword became lotus—nine petals bloomed.
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Sword qi screamed forth.
BOOM!
Xu Chu charged into the arena, iron balls dragging behind, blocking the sword qi.
“We concede.”
He looked at Lu Jiulian.
Jiang Li stepped in too, solemn.
“All’s fair in war. You lost—you lost.”
“Save it for the third round.”
Xu Chu said.
Jiang Li’s stern face cracked into a smile.
“Deal.”
He turned and led Lu Jiulian and the others off the field.
Team battle: Great Xuan Academy victory.
Gasps and frantic breathing rippled through the stands.
Best of three—now tied 1-1.
Everything came down to the final round.
Kill count.
Young Lord Lu’s rule: kill enemies.
But whose enemies?
---
Origin Lake, Heart Island.
Lu Ping’an sipped plum wine, fingers resting on the Sky-Covering Sword—core of the grand formation.
The Beiluo contest had ended in a draw.
Originally, his plan for the third round was to throw both sides into the Trial Tower, create a battlefield, and let them rack up kills.
But now…
He looked up, gaze piercing endless clouds to the three oppressive continents looming beyond.
A new idea curved his lips.
Real combat forged people fastest.
The Trial Tower was artificial.
But fighting soldiers from those three continents?
That would temper these kids like nothing else.
With a thought,
the milky-white Sky-Covering Sword pulsed.
Strange ripples spread.
The curtain of cloud and mist around Wuhuang began to churn.
Originally, the formation was absolute—no Spirit Severing, Infant Transformation, Nascent Soul, or Golden Core could enter.
But Lu deliberately created an opening.
Anyone below Golden Core… could now pass through.
---
Outside Wuhuang,
the grand formation looked like endless misty rain—impenetrable, unfathomable.
The muscle-bound sovereign of Golden Body Continent and the monk of Prajna Continent couldn’t read it.
But that didn’t stop them from probing.
“Defensive formation only. Rush in blindly and we get counterattacked.”
The giant squinted—he had taken the formation’s retaliation head-on and bled for it.
That proved it was a High Martial artifact.
With a thought, he bellowed toward his continent.
An Infant Transformation expert shot out, hurtling toward Wuhuang under the giant’s guidance.
BOOM!
The formation roared like a storm.
The expert screamed, hurled backward, blood pouring from every pore, golden body cracking.
As expected.
Next—a Nascent Soul.
Even worse.
Directly pulped, only a terrified Nascent Soul fleeing back.
“Even Nascent Soul can’t enter…”
The giant’s breathing grew heavy.
He kept sending cultivators.
Golden Cores—still blocked.
Then, to his shock, a Foundation Establishment cultivator he tossed in…
vanished into the mist without resistance.
The giant’s eyes blazed.
A flaw in the formation!
He had found it!
On Prajna Continent, the monk came to the same realization.
“Below Golden Core unrestricted…”
“We can send those beneath Golden Core to scout.”
But unease gnawed at him.
Such a powerful formation—why leave this obvious hole?
After a moment, the monk smiled.
Perhaps the one who set the formation simply believed anyone below Golden Core was harmless.
Well—any hole was an opportunity!
He looked toward the distant Golden Body Continent.
The giant looked back.
Sparks seemed to fly between their gazes.
The monk formed a lotus mudra and split off a wisp of spiritual sense.
He summoned hundreds of cultivators below Golden Core, picked an utterly ordinary one, and shot the wisp into the disciple’s brow.
The disciple’s own consciousness was instantly erased; the monk took the body.
He flung out his kasaya robe.
It wrapped the hundred disciples and drifted lazily into the formation.
They vanished inside.
The giant did the same—split a wisp, seized a body, hid it among a hundred weaklings, and sent them in.
If they couldn’t break in from outside,
they would blow the formation apart from within.
---
Du Longyang stared at Fu Tianluo.
Pressure crushed him—he had just entered Yin Spirit and already faced such a monster.
Where was Young Lord Lu?
Someone this strong had appeared—Young Lord Lu couldn’t possibly be unaware.
With Lu’s power, crushing this youth should be trivial.
Yet Lu did nothing.
What did that mean?
Du Longyang’s eyes flashed. Thoughts raced.
Soon, understanding dawned.
He looked across the Vast Sea in every direction.
Fu Tianluo was unleashing his aura freely—yet the world below remained calm.
That meant Lu had known the whole time.
And had suppressed the panic deliberately.
Lu had let this invader in on purpose.
Du Longyang’s lips curved into a grin, eyes burning.
“Young Lord Lu… you released him to be our whetstone?!”
Realization ignited his battle intent like wildfire.
How rare was a live Yin Spirit opponent to spar with?
A once-in-a-lifetime chance!
He would not waste Young Lord Lu’s kindness!
Fu Tianluo cradled his compass, staring oddly at Du Longyang.
Is this guy insane?
A newborn Spirit Severing daring to look excited facing him?
“Fight!”
Du Longyang roared, battle intent exploding.
Yin Spirit power was ten times Infant Transformation, but the true leap was spiritual sense and control.
BOOM!
One thrust—air itself detonated.
His spear became a roaring black dragon.
The ultimate technique of old Martial Emperor City bloomed in radiant glory.
Pfft!
The sky tore like paper.
Carrying sonic booms, the spear closed in on Fu Tianluo.
“Ha ha ha…”
“Spirit Severing has tiers too, rookie. I’m late-stage. What makes you think you can fight me?”
Fu Tianluo laughed arrogantly.
Indeed—who in this world could challenge him?
“Early, middle, late. I am late-stage Spirit Severing—what do you have?”
He pressed a finger to the compass.
Clang!
Golden runes surged up his arm, blazing.
BOOM!
A colossal golden fist appeared in the sky, smashing into Du Longyang’s spear.
Terrifying explosion.
Shockwaves churned the sea.
From the water below, Ye Shoudao—chest pierced, blood pouring—watched wide-eyed.
“So strong… is this Yin Spirit?”
He dragged himself onto a reef, wound slowly closing.
With a groan, he stood on his single arm, blade in hand.
Prince Tianxu floated nearby, swords orbiting him like a storm.
Far away—
Sea exploded.
A red silhouette streaked in.
The Empress had arrived.
The ripples of battle turned her pale.
Above,
Du Longyang fought like a war god.
Fu Tianluo conjured golden rune palms, each strike world-shaking.
After several exchanges, Du Longyang was repeatedly smashed into the sea, sending up towering waves.
Fu Tianluo remained relaxed.
Victory was certain.
The strongest in this world was right in front of him, and he was toying with him.
“Oh, all the Infant Transformations are gathering.”
He spotted the Empress and smiled.
Golden runes spun around him like a tornado of blades, cutting and striking relentlessly.
Du Longyang’s spear became black lightning; Fu Tianluo’s runes became golden thunder.
Du Longyang struggled.
Fu Tianluo toyed with him effortlessly.
He smiled—once he suppressed all the Infant Transformations, the world was his.
Suddenly he looked into the distance.
A crimson tide approached.
The Red Dragon roared, evaporating seawater.
Atop its back stood a graceful blindfolded girl.
Her long lashes trembled as she faced the battlefield—and Fu Tianluo.
“Oh? What a serene, beautiful girl.”
Fu Tianluo’s eyes lit up.
Zhulong’s unique aura captivated him.
Du Longyang burst from the sea, face cold.
Seeing Fu Tianluo ogling Zhulong with obvious lust, his mouth twitched.
Can’t hold back anymore.
This guy’s death flag is maxed.
If he didn’t go all out, his perfect sparring partner might just… disappear mid-fight.
Young Lord Lu was famously protective.
Some people just vanish when they flirt with the wrong person.
Du Longyang roared.
His spear trembled.
Long-suppressed Dao Intent erupted.
One thrust tore the heavens.
Straight at Fu Tianluo.
Fu Tianluo had been staring lustfully at Zhulong.
Suddenly—danger!
His compass spun wildly.
Golden runes condensed into a golden shield before him.
Du Longyang’s spear slammed into it.
BOOM!
The air was blasted into a vacuum.
A crack spiderwebbed across the golden shield…
Fu Tianluo stared in disbelief.
He sucked in a cold breath.
“You… comprehended Dao Intent?!”
