As Lin Xiao stepped onto the platform and took his place opposite Ji Juechen, the swordsman slowly reached into his robe and drew out his "sword."
To call it a sword was generous—it looked like a crude iron bar, barely polished, as though any long piece of metal could serve the role.
But Lin Xiao would never underestimate him. He knew all too well how terrifying this man truly was.
Time passed. Around the platform, more and more students gathered. The name Sword Fanatic had long echoed throughout the Academy, and his unique fighting style had always drawn curious eyes.
With little entertainment at the Royal Academy, a rare duel like this was cause for excitement.
Ji Juechen's heavy sword tilted forward slightly. His once dull eyes brightened as five spirit rings rose beneath his feet. The sword's edge began to quiver, and a low hum resonated through the air. In that moment, he and the sword seemed one and the same—his very breath pulsed with blade intent.
"Who's that fighting Ji Juechen? Why hasn't he moved yet?"
"Probably never fought him before. Doesn't know that the longer Ji Juechen charges, the stronger his next strike gets."
"You think he can even take that blow?"
"Doubt it. Their cultivation looks about the same."
The whispers weren't quiet. Lin Xiao heard every word clearly.
They weren't wrong. Ji Juechen's innate talent wasn't exceptional—he was only a few years older than Lin Xiao and had just broken through the fiftieth rank.
But they were also mistaken. Lin Xiao wasn't standing still because he feared the man's strike. He wanted to witness it—he had come precisely to experience Ji Juechen's sword with his own senses.
Victory didn't matter. What mattered was understanding.
Ji Juechen's aura swelled until it seemed to fill the air itself. The sword intent that surged toward Lin Xiao felt like a storm of blades—each breath stung, as if countless invisible edges sliced across his skin. Even the spectators squinted, shielding their eyes from the intensity.
Though they had seen Ji Juechen fight before, no one had ever witnessed him draw out his full momentum like this.
Across the platform, Ji Juechen neither hesitated nor spoke. He didn't need to understand Lin Xiao's intentions. Someone wanted to see his sword—so he would show it.
His thoughts were always simple, pure, and absolute.
Without warning, Ji Juechen's head lifted. Twin sparks of lightning flashed across his eyes, and the next instant, his entire figure blurred into a streak of light skimming the ground toward Lin Xiao.
Wherever he passed, the platform cracked apart in a long, deep scar. The students around instinctively took a step back, faces pale with awe and fear.
Lin Xiao stood motionless. In his hand bloomed a single Other Shore Flower—delicate, crimson, swaying gently in the air, as though it might wither beneath the next breath of sword wind.
Yet before the blade even struck, something unseen hit him first.
That was Ji Juechen's intent. The sword's momentum had already pierced beyond the physical realm—it struck straight into Lin Xiao's sea of consciousness.
In that moment, Lin Xiao finally saw the essence of Ji Juechen's sword. It wasn't mere soul power, nor was it spirit. It was will—a mind that had cast away all else, leaving only the path of the sword.
Something deep within his mind trembled, as though a hidden barrier was about to break.
—
"Hmm?"
A faint murmur came from the Holy Spirit Church's branch hall.
"What's wrong, Old Eight?" the Second Elder asked, turning from his seat. "Something amiss?"
"…No." Nightmare Douluo shook his head quickly. "Just remembered something."
"Good. Then let's continue." The Second Elder nodded and resumed his discussion. "With the royal family's support, our reach in these trades will grow even further—"
But Nightmare Douluo wasn't listening anymore. Beneath his robe, his heartbeat quickened. His soul power surged uncontrollably.
What's happening to that boy? How did he break my spiritual seal? Don't tell me the Illustrious Virtue Hall's people have interfered…
His brows furrowed in alarm.
—
On the platform, Lin Xiao felt the collision of his mind with Ji Juechen's sword intent. In an instant, something within him shattered—like a mirror breaking in perfect silence.
The world became still.
Before him, Ji Juechen's calm face appeared sharper than ever—serene yet filled with boundless edge.
Around them, the students could only stare, terror flickering in their eyes at the raw force radiating from Ji Juechen's strike.
From afar, several powerful gazes watched the scene with great interest, their focus locked on the two young men and the question of who would prevail.
Every sound in Lin Xiao's surroundings seemed to grow vivid—the clang of metal in the test fields, the hum of nearby soul tools, even the hidden breaths of the academy's protective guards.
The world had never been this clear.
For the first time, he could feel the flow of heaven and earth's essence—each current of energy moving through the air like threads of light, each pulse of life resonating with his soul.
The Other Shore Flower in his palm quivered softly. He could sense every vein along its petals, every faint vibration of the remnant souls within.
Then came a rush of images—memories not his own.
The last sensations of dying Saints in the Church branch, their agony before death; the blood rain that had drenched that night; the moment when cursed blossoms had sprouted from their corpses.
Scene after scene flooded his mind—countless fragments of death, flowing from the souls within the flower into his consciousness.
His mental sea churned violently. And then—
He stood on a narrow path stretching endlessly into the distance.
On both sides, a river of clear, nameless water murmured softly. Crimson flowers with no leaves bloomed silently along the banks, their petals glowing faintly under the dim light.
Across the river stood a hazy figure, face blurred and indistinct, yet unmistakably watching him.
This… is my spiritual sea?
Though he had never seen it before, Lin Xiao knew instinctively. The river before him was formed of his spiritual power—flowing ceaselessly into infinity.
He stepped forward lightly. His body felt weightless, unbound.
It was as if, in that one instant, every chain that had restrained his mind… had been severed.
(End of Chapter)