Su Wentian and Ning Chongxuanâs fierce battle unfolding this way was beyond everyoneâs expectations. When they saw the two seemingly cut down simultaneously, it triggered a tidal wave of shocked exclamations.
It must be understood that the two were prodigies within the sect, rising stars that appeared only once in a century. Especially Ning Chongxuan, who was Master Sunâs prized disciple. If he were to perish, wouldnât it provoke a severe internal conflict between the noble families and the master-disciple faction?
The thought of such consequences immediately turned the faces of many present pale, filling them with fear and dread.
However, there were also a considerable number of composed individuals within the gathering, standing silent and motionless, while their eyes flickered incessantly, their thoughts unreadable.
Zhang Yanâs gaze remained profound, and he said not a word, merely staring intently at the scene before him.
After Su Wentianâs head flew off, it hovered mid-air. But eerily enough, not a drop of blood flowed out. Moreover, his face showed no trace of shock or distress; instead, it bore an unwavering calm.
Suddenly, from the severed neck burst forth a streak of green light, resembling jade-like balm, soft and oily. It shot upward, catching the Six Yang Leader and guiding it, immediately pulling it back to his neck where it reattached itself. After adjusting into its proper position, another flash of green brilliance ensued, and within moments, the wound faded, returning to its original state.
He flexed his neck slightly, reached up to feel it, and let out a long breath.
A similar phenomenon unfolded with Ning Chongxuan. After being cut in half at the waist, streams of green light emanated from the severed area, grasping his upper body and pulling it downward. The two halves met seamlessly, healing in mere moments. A glimmering radiance pulsed across his robe, erasing any trace of the cut.
He swung his sleeve, formed a spell with his fingers, and, in a flash of light, summoned back his Dharma Sword. After stowing it away, he stood with his hands clasped behind him in the void, his expression remaining stern and unchanged. It was as though nothing had ever happened.
The crowd was utterly dumbfounded. Even the Wang Sisters and Liu Yan Yi, observing from afar through the silver mirror, were frozen in astonishment. For a while, Qiu Hanyue suddenly snapped back to reality, pointed at the image in the mirror, grabbed Qi Mengjiaoâs sleeve, and urgently said, "Senior Sister Qi, is this...?"
Qi Mengjiao let out a deep breath. She had been tense earlier, worried that if Ning Chongxuan truly died, it would undoubtedly cause severe turbulence within the sect.
After a momentâs thought, she nodded and said, "Indeed, this is one of our Mingcang Sectâs Twelve Divine Abilities, the âVoid Primordial Life Qi.â Once successfully cultivated, as long as a breath of Primordial Qi remains, even if the body is torn into pieces, the divine ability can pull it back together. If reattached within a single interval of time, one can avoid injury or death, appearing as if nothing happened."
Though she spoke calmly, the sight of decapitations and waist-severings had clearly shaken the Wang Sisters greatly. Just considering it brought chills down their spines and left them gasping for air. Those two had even dared to test the ability on their own bodies, all while acting as if it were no big deal. How resolute must their minds be?
Wang Caiting asked timidly, "Do you think Master will be able to handle opponents like this, Senior Sister? Might he...?"
Tian Kun suddenly snorted harshly, cutting her off sharply, "Silence! Master wonât lose!"
In Wang Caitingâs impression, Tian Kun had never been so harsh and intense before. Startled at first, she soon felt her eyes well up with tears, sulking as she murmured, "Why are you yelling at me? I was just worried about Master."
Wang Caiwei bit her lower lip tightly, a trace of worry appearing between her brows.
Liu Yan Yi furrowed her brows. Initially, she didnât have a clear conception of what sort of opponent her master would face, and had found the first two battles somewhat lackluster. But now, she deeply understood. The Top Ten Disciples were all extraordinary individuals â a single misstep could lead to oneâs demise.
Thinking this, she couldnât help but feel a pang of anxiety, muttering inwardly, "I wonder if Master can truly triumph over such adversaries?"
However, when she noticed the sistersâ uneasy expressions, she became alarmed, blaming herself silently. As the sectâs senior disciple, how could she allow herself to panic first?
She forced a soft smile upon her face, stretched out her delicate arms to embrace the Wang Sisters on either side, and gently consoled them. "Masterâs cultivation and techniques are beyond what we can fathom. Junior Sisters, rest easy and have faith as you watch."
The Wang Sisters noticed her calm demeanor and confident tone, and their hearts gradually steadied.
At this moment, Elder Xunâs complexion eventually regained some semblance of normalcy. He barked orders to the two, waving his sleeve and announcing, "This match ends without a winner. If either wishes to fight again, return to rest and recover first; the battle can resume tomorrow."
He shook his head as he spoke, emotionally affected earlier by a surge of concern. The scene had startled him greatly, but upon rethinking it, he realized that even if he failed to react in time, there were several Cave Heaven True Masters watching over from above. How could they possibly allow their own disciples to suffer harm?
As clarity returned to him, he understood that the blade earlier must have been a strand of Sword Qi sealed within a talisman of the Lost God Saber. These true artifacts were each temperamental and arrogantly proud. Even when Cave Heaven True Masters wielded them, respect was shown as equals. How could they belittle themselves to serve juniors?