The young masters of the Imperial Palace all cared deeply about their reputation.
Whether it was Huang Qi or Qing Yu, they would always uphold the dignity they deserved.
Even though they knew the Ninth Sword Cultivator and Yan Wushuang looked down on them, Qing Yu still spoke.
"Is that so?"
A voice echoed in Qing Yu's ear.
"When..."
Qing Yu instinctively replied, but after uttering just one word, cold sweat trickled down her face.
The voice was far too familiar.
Familiar with its arrogance and disdain.
"Swoosh."
Yan Wushuang suddenly turned, looking at Qing Yu.
More accurately, he looked at the distorted space beside Qing Yu.
There, a figure slowly materialized.
Who else but Chen Fan?
The Ninth Sword Cultivator's pupils contracted, but he remained silent.
Only the fighting intent in his eyes betrayed him.
He wanted to fight, to fight in place of Yan Wushuang.
However, he would not intervene.
"Come."
Chen Fan’s face was etched with a smile.
He even beckoned to Yan Wushuang with a finger: "Let's fight again."
Yan Wushuang raised an eyebrow.
An even more intense fighting spirit began to surge.
"Boom."
Yan Wushuang erupted.
Where his physical body stood, the void exploded, as if a hazy figure was emerging from the nothingness.
That figure then drilled into Yan Wushuang's eyes.
At this moment, Yan Wushuang was bathed in endless radiance, standing in mid-air like a celestial god, making people instinctively want to kneel and kowtow.
Did these prodigies not have their trump cards?
Little Fire God's trump card was the innate Dao pattern between his brows.
As for Huang Qi, forget it.
Qing Yu didn't need to be mentioned; as a descendant of the Heavenly Emperor, her background was her greatest trump card.
And Yan Wushuang had one too.
At this moment, Yan Wushuang's true form was impossible to discern, shrouded in brilliant Dao patterns, mysterious and powerful.
But his aura could be felt, surging like a torrent.
The only thing that could be clearly seen were his eyes, incredibly deep, within which astonishing scenes unfolded: stars revolved, primordial chaos permeated, as if gazing at the heavens.
"Chen Fan."
Yan Wushuang's voice rang out: "This is my strongest technique. See if you can withstand it."
The divine eyes opened to the heavens, blinking gently.
"Hum."
That figure emerged from his pupils once more.
In his hand, a weapon appeared, a war halberd, radiating divine light, powerful and awe-inspiring.
Its strangeness and terror made hearts palpitate.
In mid-air, the figure that emerged from Yan Wushuang's eyes again, like a god-king descending.
Every inch of his skin glowed, his long hair cascaded, and his pressure permeated the entire arena.
"Fight."
Yan Wushuang's voice emanated from the man before them.
"Yan Wushuang?"
Chen Fan exclaimed in surprise: "What is this technique?"
He was genuinely shocked.
This technique was indeed formidable.
Yan Wushuang spoke: "With the power of my divine pupils, I summon an ancient powerhouse to fight you."
Understood.
Chen Fan nodded, realizing it was also a summoning technique.
"Over there, let's fight," Chen Fan said with a faint smile.
He strode forward, each step leaving a clear imprint in the void.
As he moved, a peculiar rhythm spread.
Eventually, it became like Daoist sounds, causing heaven and earth to resonate with it, a majestic pressure surged, shaking hearts.
In the distance...
The Ninth Sword Cultivator clenched his sword, fighting intent boiling in his eyes.
He longed to step forward immediately and engage in a battle with these two peerless prodigies.
Pfft.
Suddenly, Qing Yu coughed up blood and stumbled backward.
"What's happening?"
Qing Yu was aghast.
At this moment, she felt as if Chen Fan's every step was crushing her heart.
This momentum was invincible.
Ruling the world, who else could compare?
"Trash."
The Ninth Sword Cultivator glanced at Qing Yu dismissively.
She was too useless, unable to even withstand the pressure.
Chen Fan and Yan Wushuang, however, didn't even spare Qing Yu a glance.
At this moment, their eyes were solely on each other.
"Crack."
A bolt of lightning erupted.
It was Chen Fan's technique, a lightning whip flashed out, lashing towards Yan Wushuang.
"Open."
The ancient powerhouse summoned by Yan Wushuang, holding a war halberd, struck out instantly.
A flash of auspicious light, the war halberd erupted with brilliant divine radiance, and killing intent exploded.
In an instant, wind and thunder raged.
With a roar, the lightning was shattered by the war halberd.
In the sky, light flowed and colors shimmered, the void trembled as if it were about to shatter.
"Kill."
The Heavenly Cong Yun Sword bloomed.
A sword strike cut through the air, colliding with the war halberd.
Boom.
The war halberd erupted, its light illuminating the heavens, dispersing the surrounding chaos, terrifyingly powerful.
All this boundless radiance came from the war halberd, cleaving through the firmament with unimaginable might.
"Battle."
Chen Fan traversed the sky, his long hair flowing, his body agile as a true dragon.
Twelve paths of rule intertwined with his physical body, roaring and charging, their light blindingly brilliant.
"Rumble."
From the moment they clashed, it was a battle of the highest caliber.
The speed of the ancient prodigy was too fast, cutting through all directions, shadows of the war halberd filled the air, pinning Chen Fan in the center.
Each strike was capable of slaughtering the world.
"Get out of the way."
Chen Fan unleashed his power, his long sword sweeping out.
Sword Dragon, appear.
"Boom."
This place exploded, the void filled with shattered sword light and halberd light.
A scene akin to world destruction.
Rules shattered, roars erupted between the two.
"Good."
This exclamation came from the Ninth Sword Cultivator.
Although he was an observer, he couldn't help but tremble all over, wishing he could rush in immediately.
Zheng zheng zheng.
Behind him, sword shadows suddenly appeared.
Nine sword shadows flickered behind the Ninth Sword Cultivator, eager to break free.
He could no longer hold back.
"Freak."
Qing Yu, standing nearby, unconsciously remarked.
Swish.
Unexpectedly, the Ninth Sword Cultivator suddenly turned.
His eyes were filled with murderous intent.
He stared intently at Qing Yu and said, "Trash, you're wasting my time watching you. Otherwise, it would be me fighting right now."
He was truly unwilling.
The Ninth Sword Cultivator gritted his teeth, wishing he could kill Qing Yu immediately.
"I..."
Qing Yu's face turned pale.
Damn it, what does it have to do with me?
Didn't you and Yan Wushuang agree that he would make the first move?
Truly.
"These freaks," Qing Yu could only grumble internally, daring not to speak rashly again.
Didn't he see that the Ninth Sword Cultivator was about to go crazy?
...
In the arena.
"In the way of the sword, I am supreme," Chen Fan's voice resounded.
Instantly, twelve paths of rule appeared: the Five Elements, Wind and Thunder, the Sky-Piercing Rat...
The twelve paths of rule, like lightning piercing the sky, like mountains collapsing, like oceans striking the heavens, their momentum astonishing.
These twelve paths of rule were all transformed into swords.
"Kill."
A world-shattering spectacle.
At this moment, Chen Fan, with twelve swords of rule above his head, suppressed heaven and earth.
With a single downward strike, the twelve swords of rule annihilated everything.
"Kill."
The ancient prodigy's gaze was piercing.
Although it was Yan Wushuang's voice and gaze, it was as if he were reliving memories from before his demise.
Every inch of his skin glowed, a great sun enveloped his body, divine abilities flared within him like fireworks, and like burning flames.
Everything converged onto the war halberd.
"Boom."
The ancient prodigy unleashed his halberd.
Crack.
This roar shook the entire Sword City into collapse.
Apart from the city walls, everything else crumbled into dust.