All Swords Lower Their Brows

Amidst the astonished and shaken chatter of the crowd, Li Qing could not help turning his gaze toward the circular, transparent arena in the sky. Trapped within, Wan Zailai and Pei Qingshan were already clashing. Showing no mercy, Pei Qingshan directly manifested a Qingmu Grotto-Heaven, seeking to suppress Wan Zailai. Yet Wan Zailai showed not the slightest fear. In a split second, his figure split from one into two, two into eight... By the time the Qingmu Grotto-Heaven was fully manifested, over ten thousand silhouettes of Wan Zailai filled the arena. "Myriad Swords Return to the Sect!" Wan Zailai bellowed. His countless clones took on solemn expressions and transformed into swords in unison, slashing toward the Qingmu Grotto-Heaven. Sword light rained down, exploding with dazzling brilliance. Even the sun in the sky seemed dim in comparison. Pei Qingshan's body was reduced to ash in an instant amidst this torrent of sword lights. Before he could regenerate, the freshly formed flesh and blood were annihilated anew by the sword beams. The sword momentum was boundless and seemingly without end. Under the relentless pressure of the sword lights, the Qingmu Grotto-Heaven trembled ceaselessly, hanging in the balance and on the verge of total collapse. "I yield! I surrender!" Pei Qingshan's panic-stricken voice echoed across the sky. With a flash of white light, he was ejected from the arena. He looked disheveled and wretched, his face marked by terror starkly different from his earlier fury. "Thank you for the match!" Wan Zailai sheathed his blade as his myriad clones merged back into his true form. Hovering in midair, his white robes fluttering loudly in the wind, he looked down disdainfully upon the cultivators of Yilu Province below. Pei Qingshan's swift defeat caught everyone off guard. Furthermore, Wan Zailai's boundless sword lights had been truly terrifying. The cultivators had not yet recovered from the suffocating oppression they had just witnessed. As a result, no one even thought to reproach Pei Qingshan. The scene fell into dead silence. "If anyone disagrees, feel free to step forward!" "I, Wan Zailai, shall meet you with a single sword!" The handsome youth in white projected his arrogant voice across Yilu City. Cowed by his imposing presence, not a single cultivator dared to step up and accept the challenge for a time. After all, everyone knew Pei Qingshan's strength; even a peak Nascent Soul cultivator could not have defeated him as effortlessly as Wan Zailai had. "I'm afraid only a Soul Formation cultivator can subdue him." This thought flashed through the minds of everyone present. Yet the Soul Formation cultivators of Yilu Province were either within the One Heart Immortal Sect or away at the front lines. Even if one were around, they wouldn't have the face to fight Wan Zailai. A Nascent Soul fighting a Golden Core was already bullying the weak. A Soul Formation fighting a Golden Core... That could no longer even be called mere bullying. No Soul Formation cultivator could stoop so low as to commit such a shameful act. Besides, if they were to lose... They would become the laughingstock of the entire Five Elders Association, serving as Wan Zailai's stepping stone to renown. The onlookers harbored varied thoughts, yet kept silent. For a moment, they simply allowed the youth in white to flaunt his might overhead. "It seems Yilu Province truly has no one worthy!" Wan Zailai scoffed. "Young man, it is best not to be too arrogant." Right then, a cool voice suddenly rang out. It instantly drew the eyes of every cultivator, both in the air and on the ground. A cultivator of exquisite beauty—possessing masculine grace with feminine delicacy—floated leisurely into the air. "I am Li Qing!" Cupping his hands, he was escorted into the arena by a beam of white light. "Oh?" Wan Zailai narrowed his eyes. Accustomed to having his head held high, he was naturally displeased to be reprimanded in a tone meant for juniors by someone who looked even younger than himself. "Early Nascent Soul?" A dangerous glint flashed in Wan Zailai's eyes. "Without using grotto-heaven power, I can suppress you with one hand using only the strength of a Golden Core," Li Qing replied, waving a hand and speaking in the most outrageously arrogant tone with total earnestness. At this, not only did Wan Zailai's face contort with anger, but an uproar also erupted among the spectator cultivators of Yilu Province below. "I thought Wan Zailai was arrogant enough, but this Li Qing is even wilder!" "Brother Li looks rather unfamiliar. Is he really a cultivator from our Yilu Province?" "Nonsense, why would he stick his neck out if he weren't? Our Yilu Province is vast and teeming with talent—he's surely an exceptional talent who was living in seclusion!" ... The onlookers buzzed with debate. Wan Zailai let out a sinister laugh. "Very well. I can hardly wait to see you torn to pieces by ten thousand swords." Before his voice finished echoing, he unleashed his ultimate technique. "Myriad Swords Art!" Just like before, over ten thousand clones instantly materialized across the arena. Yet unlike the Myriad Swords Return to the Sect, this was no longer a straightforward sword slash. Instead, every single clone pinched sword incantations, executing a different sword art. In an instant, the sky was illuminated by multicolored sword glows. Phantoms of swords of every shape and design manifested one after another. Then, roaring with sword chants akin to the cries of dragons, they surged toward Li Qing in unison. The sword light tore through space, setting off endless tremors. Even the transparent arena confining them showed fine cracks spreading across its surface. Beholding this magnificent and terrifying spectacle, the Yilu Province cultivators below widened their eyes. "So this is Wan Zailai's true power?" "Too powerful! Even a Soul Formation cultivator might suffer a bitter defeat against such a move!" "Just what is this Wan Zailai's background? He's already this monstrous at the Golden Core stage—how terrifying will he be once he breaks through to Nascent Soul?" ... At this moment, everyone present gasped in profound astonishment. All of them believed that the unknown cultivator Li Qing would inevitably fall before this Myriad Swords Art. Yet before they could lament his fate, amidst the ceaseless clamor of sword hums, Li Qing's ringing, resonant chant resounded: "Though your sword arts number in the millions... "Before me, all must lower their brows!" His voice was not particularly loud. Yet without a doubt, it completely drowned out the ringing of every blade. In that split second, a sight unfolded inside the arena above that left every spectator dumbstruck. The countless sword arts, charging toward Li Qing like a swarm of luminous dragons, all suddenly slowed to a crawl just before striking his body. In the end, they came to a dead halt right before Li Qing, revealing countless distinct phantoms of swords. "Hmm?" Li Qing swept his gaze over them. Then, no matter how reluctant they seemed, beneath Li Qing's gaze, these countless swords all trembled faintly and lowered their tips! "Go!" Li Qing gave a soft shout. The myriad sword shadows turned traitor and reversed direction. They surged straight back toward Wan Zailai, who stood frozen like a wooden chicken, wearing a look of disbelief and unable to comprehend what was happening! Just as Wan Zailai was about to be torn to shreds by his own ultimate technique, a burst of white light surged, and in the next instant, his figure vanished from the arena, reappearing back on the ground. Yet at this moment, no one paid him any mind. The eyes of every cultivator present were fixed entirely on Li Qing.