Chen Hao was tall and powerfully built, his face covered in purplish-red boils that gave him an extraordinarily fierce and grotesque appearance.
Dressed in coarse black hemp clothes and hemp sandals on bare feet, he looked like a sturdy boatman.
Yet the five-foot sword in his hand shimmered with chilling light. As he stood motionless with the blade resting in his grip, his entire being radiated an aggressive, overwhelming aura of force.
For an expert of his caliber, regardless of looks or attire, his sheer presence commanded respect and warned onlookers not to underestimate him.
Zhiyuan knitted his gray brows slightly. Now that Chen Dalu had shown up, the original plan had been to take him down directly without wasting words.
Yet Chen Dalu's sudden challenge put him in a somewhat awkward position.
Chiefly because there were many outsiders in the restaurant—members of the Zhang family, men from the Pacification Office, and onlookers from various factions who had come to see which way the wind blew.
Refusing the challenge naturally carried no real penalty, but Zhiyuan sensed an opportunity here.
He recognized Chen Hao, the swordsman issuing the challenge: he was the Five Dragons Gang's Red Dragon Envoy and their foremost sword expert.
The Five Dragons Gang lived and breathed the martial world; every one of their Gu masters was thoroughly versed in martial arts.
Judging solely by the poise Chen Hao projected, he was beyond doubt a rank seven martial artist.
Zhiyuan knew Zhou Wuji's swordsmanship and martial arts were exceptional, but exactly how formidable the boy was remained difficult to gauge.
When Zhou Wuji returned from Lake Heart Island this time, the true qi coursing through him had attained a flawless, harmonious maturity, so much so that even Zhiyuan could not see through the alterations in his true qi.
Evidently, the boy had encountered some fortune that granted him immense progress in his cultivation of true qi.
If he could defeat Chen Hao in a frontal clash, it would undoubtedly elevate the prestige of the Branch Abbey.
It would also show the various factions that their Branch Abbey teemed with extraordinary talent!
Of course, that all hinged on victory.
If Zhou Wuji stepped forward to accept the challenge only to lose, the disgrace would be unbearable.
Zhou Wuji felt the hesitation in Zhiyuan's gaze and understood what the old abbot feared.
Indeed, their original goal was to deal with Chen Dalu; entertaining a duel was an unnecessary complication.
Yet for him, it was a prime opportunity.
Only authority and renown cannot be lent to others.
If he wanted to enter the Upper Abbey and be valued, he had to possess sufficient renown.
Without renown, he would always be doubted.
Zhou Wuji understood this well. He had accomplished plenty and gained some fame, but many remained skeptical.
Wu'ai, for instance, had known Zhou Wuji had slaughtered numerous rebel soldiers, yet still sought to challenge him—simply because his fame was not resounding enough.
The present duel was a perfect chance to make his name before the public.
Having witnessed the blood sacrifice in the secret realm on Lake Heart Island, Zhou Wuji had concluded that all the Five Dragons Gang's upper echelon deserved to die.
Transporting several hundred people onto an island for a blood sacrifice was no small feat; the gang's leaders surely knew about it.
And even if any did not, as leaders of such a syndicate who enjoyed the fruits of feeding on human blood, they deserved execution all the same.
Zhou Wuji promptly rose to his feet. Cupping his hands toward Zhiyuan, he said, "Abbot, since our friend from the Five Dragons Gang wishes to spar with swords, this disciple is willing to oblige."
Zhiyuan gave Zhou Wuji a searching look. The youth's eyes were as bright as stars, his brow radiating vigor and resolute confidence in the fight ahead.
Zhiyuan nodded. "Very well. Go forward and test the consummate skills of the Five Dragons Gang."
He said nothing about pulling punches or stopping at touching blows. When swords were drawn in combat, life and death hung by a hair; there was no room for polite restraint.
If someone possessed the skill to stop precisely at the critical instant, it only proved the two were not on the same level at all—and in that case, there would be no point in competing.
The onlookers on the third floor understood this truth, and excitement spread across many faces.
A fair number had heard Zhou Wuji's name before.
Mainly because Zhou Wuji had killed Chen Dagou, Chen Dalu's younger brother—an incident that had caused a tremendous uproar.
Today, Chen Dalu had ordered a subordinate to challenge Zhou Wuji right from the start, clearly seeking vengeance for Chen Dagou.
Yet Zhou Wuji was just as decisive, agreeing without hesitation to face the famed Red Dragon Envoy Chen Hao.
Despite his handsome and ethereal appearance, the young Daoist showed such bold courage and decisiveness, surprising those present and leaving a deep impression on them.
The third floor was quite spacious. In preparation for the banquet, many tables and chairs had been removed, leaving a wide open area in the center.
For experts, this space was more than sufficient.
Seeing Zhou Wuji advance with his sword, Chen Hao's gaze grew colder.
He knew Zhou Wuji's strength and would never underestimate him.
Before arriving, Chen Dalu had already resolved to have him challenge Zhou Wuji and had made preparations in advance.
As the Red Dragon Envoy, the Red Dragon Gu he nurtured naturally possessed the ability to stimulate qi and blood.
For this battle, he had also ingested an elixir beforehand to stimulate the insect, driving the Red Dragon Gu into a state of extreme frenzy.
It was precisely the dual stimulation of the medicine and the Red Dragon Gu that had mutated the skin on his face, giving him such an exceptionally grotesque appearance.
Chen Hao cared nothing for his looks. He was born ugly anyway, and women disliked him.
Yet with the formidable power he wielded, even the loveliest women could only submit to his whims.
Watching Zhou Wuji come to a halt seven paces away, Chen Hao silently chanted an incantation to mobilize the Red Dragon Gu.
Concealed within his chest, the Red Dragon Gu began to churn its power, driving his heart into frantic thumping as its strength mingled with his boiling blood.
For a rank seven martial artist, the foundation of power lay not in muscle and bone, but in qi and blood.
Pushed to its peak, this vital vigor turned Chen Hao's skin a fiery crimson, causing his entire body to swell slightly in size.
Empowered by this force, Chen Hao's strength rose by at least fifty percent.
His heart swelled with the ecstasy of certain triumph and a violent impulse to crush everything.
He felt that such a colossal surge in power was more than enough to vanquish any martial artist of the same rank!
Zhou Wuji did not cast the Six Yang Dharma Eyes upon himself; with the Heart Mirror clearly reflecting both inner and outer worlds, his ability to discern shifts in aura surpassed the spell.
Watching the mutations overtaking Chen Hao, Zhou Wuji immediately sensed something was amiss.
Through the Heart Mirror within his sea of consciousness, he even saw the Gu insect at Chen Hao's chest and the frenzied, pulsating power it unleashed.
The surging vitality around Chen Hao erupted outward like blazing flames.
Such aura shifts were intricate and invisible to the ordinary eye, perceptible only to masters acutely sensitive to qi.
Experts like Zhiyuan, Zhishan, and Zhang Shiheng naturally saw it clearly.
Zhishan's expression darkened slightly. It was no surprise that the Five Dragons Gang would resort to underhanded tricks, but such Gu arts were truly sinister.
Zhiyuan, by contrast, remained calm, retaining deep faith in Zhou Wuji.
Looking at Zhou Wuji's state, the young Daoist was completely composed, clearly not intimidated by Chen Hao's transformation.
Zhiyuan had also made up his mind: if Zhou Wuji truly could not hold his ground, he would intervene directly.
It might damage their reputation, but the Five Dragons Gang was about to be wiped out anyway; who would care about such trifles?
Chen Dalu, meanwhile, looked thoroughly smug.
During this recent period, Zhou Wuji had slain two of their Five Dragon Envoys, dealing the gang severe losses.
Such deep hatred could finally be avenged before everyone!
Zhang Shiheng watched impassively, favoring neither side.
A fight to the death between the Five Dragons Gang and the Branch Abbey was a win for him regardless of the outcome.
Even so, strictly in terms of demeanor and appearance, he admired Zhou Wuji.
This calm, dashing grace under pressure truly resembled the bearing of aristocratic scions!
A pity he was a Daoist...
With the drugs coursing through him, Chen Hao's vitality had grown so violently intense that it threatened to roast his own body.
Without even wasting breath on pleasantries, he let out a fierce roar and slashed his sword forward.
The five-foot sword weighed ten jin, and under his raging strength, it unleashed a shrill sword howl that tore through the air.
The strike, Dividing the River with a Cleaving Blade, was the most imposing technique in the Great River Sword style.
As it came down, the radiant sword light fanned out, seeming to cleave the entire third floor of Yunjiang Tower in two.
Such ferocious momentum drew low gasps of shock from many spectators.
True rank seven martial artists were rare to begin with, and a rank seven fighter battling with full force was rarer still.
The aura Chen Hao unleashed even carried faint undertones of sword intent, exerting palpable pressure on the surrounding onlookers.
Facing the descending blade, Zhou Wuji unsheathed his sword and drifted aside with a light step.
With his profound cultivation of true qi and robust physique, his advance and retreat flowed as effortlessly as riding the wind.
His movements seemed unhurried, yet his pivot and withdrawal were astonishingly fast.
Chen Hao had already anticipated that Zhou Wuji would not dare clash head-on, so this thunderous strike held only half his power.
With his qi and blood aroused, his strength was immense; the ten-jin sword felt as light as a bamboo sliver in his grip.
Seeing Zhou Wuji shift to evade, Chen Hao transitioned from a vertical cleave into a horizontal sweep.
His swordsmanship was seasoned and backed by tremendous force. As he altered his strike, his footwork shifted accordingly, the sweeping blade covering a radius of over ten feet.
Fast though Zhou Wuji's footwork was, it could not outpace the speed of a turning blade.
As the long blade swept violently toward him, Zhou Wuji raised his sword upright, lightly parrying the five-foot blade with the spine of his own.
Sparks flew upon contact. Chen Hao seized the chance to pour in his strength, aiming to send Zhou Wuji flying in one stroke. Yet the force in Zhou Wuji's blade flowed continuous and yielding as water; the harder Chen Hao pushed, the greater the resistance he met.
The violent power contained within the five-foot sword was dissolved by sixty to seventy percent against Zhou Wuji's blade, and Zhou Wuji used the remaining thirty percent to drift backward.
With true qi circulating through his body, Zhou Wuji's movements were exquisitely nimble; his frame traced a natural arc through the air, retreating toward Chen Hao's left flank.
Chen Hao adjusted his footwork once more and gave chase, unleashing a flurry of continuous slashes. Yet Zhou Wuji's Seven Stars Sword moved light as emptiness, endless and unbroken—the hallmark of the airy and dense Flowing Cloud Sword.
It would not be difficult for Zhou Wuji to kill Chen Hao outright, but doing so would require exposing his true strength.
In Chen Hao's frenzied state, flaws in his swordplay were inevitable; there was no need to rush.
To the onlookers, Chen Hao's blade seemed to cleave and hack with overbearing ferocity, like surging river waves cresting one after another in relentless momentum.
Zhou Wuji appeared forced to dance continuously amid the roaring sword glare; if he made the slightest misstep, he would die on the spot.
Even Daoist Yiping looked tense. Never skilled in swordsmanship, he could only see Zhou Wuji teetering on the edge of disaster, which filled him with profound worry...
Yet masters like Zhang Shiheng and Chen Dalu saw things differently. Zhang Shiheng perceived that Zhou Wuji was holding back a portion of his strength, parrying with remarkable ease and effectively controlling the tempo of the duel.
Fierce as Chen Hao's offensive appeared, he was actually dancing to Zhou Wuji's tune.
Zhang Shiheng felt a twinge of surprise. Was Zhou Wuji's swordsmanship truly this advanced?!
Zhou Wuji seemed pressed down at an extreme disadvantage, where a single mistake could cost his life, yet he patiently held back, biding his time.
This showed tremendous confidence in his swordplay, firmly believing he could weather Chen Hao's full assault...
Chen Dalu's discernment fell far short of Zhang Shiheng's, yet he too noticed the dense intricacy of Zhou Wuji's technique; though apparently on the defensive, the Daoist suffered no harm.
Excessive ferocity could not be sustained. Chen Hao's relentless onslaught lacked variation, and something felt off.
Just as Chen Dalu opened his mouth to shout a warning, the situation shifted abruptly.
Chen Hao, after all, was a seasoned combatant, and he too realized things were going awry.
He immediately stimulated the Red Dragon Gu and surged his qi and blood to trigger a thunder roar, intending to spit blood simultaneously to release the parasites transformed by the Red Dragon Gu.
If that blood landed on Zhou Wuji, it would corrode hundreds of holes into his body and infest him with parasitic Gu.
The poison of these insects was so potent that it could kill Zhou Wuji in mere breaths.
Chen Hao's swordplay was formidable, but dividing his attention to surge his qi and blood for the thunder roar and Gu parasites muddied the force in his blade.
With his transcendent swordsmanship, Zhou Wuji instantly caught the impurity in Chen Hao's force and the abnormal surging of the Gu insect and blood within him.
Seizing the opening, he jabbed with the Seven Stars Sword, tapping the spine of Chen Hao's five-foot blade.
This strike of the Night Rain Sword arrived with elusive unpredictability, like fine drizzle descending through the night sky, drenching heaven and earth before anyone realized it.
With that single tap of the blade's tip, layered, dense sword qi transmitted through the clashing steel straight into Chen Hao.
Chen Hao's arm went slightly numb from the shock of the sword qi. Before he could react, the Seven Stars Sword drifted toward him like endless night rain.
In that fractional split-second, Chen Hao's wrist, arm, and shoulder were struck in rapid succession.
Blood spurted amid the flashing blade. Because all three strikes were light taps, they were blindingly swift, driving heavy layers of sword qi straight through the sword tip into Chen Hao's flesh.
Though Chen Hao had taken medicine to surge his qi and blood, the dense, gloomy sword qi invaded his body, wreaking havoc on his sinews, bones, and flesh, and utterly shattering his control over his vital energy.
Chen Hao still fought to resist with his life, but his body refused to obey.
In that momentary lag, Zhou Wuji's fourth strike landed on Chen Hao's throat.
The blade plunged four inches into the flesh, piercing clean through Chen Hao's spine.
With an agile flick of the sword, Chen Hao's head went flying into the air...
Chapter 100