Divine Sword Old Man was clearly unwilling to let things end like this.
He had already accepted that, in direct comparison, he was slightly inferior to Dragon Mountain Daoist. That was fine. What he wanted was to recover some face through the younger generation.
But reality had slapped him again.
Even though this was only a sparring exchange and both sides were holding back, ending it now still made him feel deeply uncomfortable.
Dragon Mountain Daoist sighed helplessly.
"Divine Sword Senior Brother, do you intend to continue with the True Disciples?"
Divine Sword Old Man shook his head. His gaze landed on a chubby child standing nearby, eyes filled with an unmistakable trace of fondness.
"A few years ago, I accepted a final disciple—Zhuang Chen. He is eight years old this year and has cultivated martial arts for only two years."
He paused slightly before continuing.
"Ten years from now, most of today's True Disciples will be over thirty and no longer eligible for the agreement. These younger ones will be the true backbone. Let them get familiar with things in advance."
Then he smiled.
"I won't take advantage of you. Any True Martial Sect disciple under ten years old may challenge him. Whoever wins—this Long Xiao Sword is theirs."
As he spoke, he pulled the massive greatsword from his back and thrust it directly into the arena floor.
The blade was wide and dull, yet an indescribable sharpness radiated from it.
It was unmistakably a top-tier famous sword.
This was the highest-value reward presented so far.
For Divine Sword Old Man to offer his personal weapon meant two things—he had lost some face already, and he was extremely confident.
Instantly, many True Martial Sect disciples' eyes lit up.
Then regret followed.
If only they were under ten…
At the same time, several sharp minds noticed something else.
"Eight years old… two years of cultivation… doesn't that mean his bone structure formed at six?"
Qin Yun's pupils contracted slightly.
His own bone structure had formed at seven. Zhuang Chen was a full year earlier.
Although early bone formation wasn't absolute proof of talent, it still struck a nerve.
Ning Qi looked at Zhuang Chen with mild surprise.
The chubby boy noticed his gaze and smiled back honestly.
Ning Qi hadn't expected this seemingly silly Little Fatty to possess such talent.
Dragon Mountain Daoist let out a bitter smile.
"Senior Brother, isn't this a bit excessive…?"
Divine Sword Old Man waved his hand boldly.
"No matter. If your True Martial Sect truly has such a genius, then take the Long Xiao Sword."
Ye Qinghe's expression turned strange.
Wasn't this basically delivering a famous sword to their door?
She knew Ning Qi too well. A year ago, when they encountered the white ape, he had already reached Bone Refining. Now, he might be at Viscera or even Marrow Refining.
She didn't believe that Little Fatty could truly match him.
While everyone was still thinking, Divine Sword Sect's senior brother Dong He leaned down and whispered a few words to Zhuang Chen.
The boy's eyes lit up immediately.
He began bargaining in a low voice until Dong He finally showed a helpless smile.
Only then did Zhuang Chen swagger into the arena.
He spoke honestly, almost seriously.
"My name is Zhuang Chen. I am a True Disciple of the Divine Sword Sect. Who will bring me chicken drumsticks—ah, no—who will accept the challenge?"
A wave of laughter spread among the True Martial Sect.
The Divine Sword Sect disciples covered their faces.
Divine Sword Old Man fell silent and turned his head away.
"I, Zhao Changhe, will fight you!"
Before Ning Qi could move, a ten-year-old boy rushed forward.
Zhao Changhe was tall for his age, standing more than two heads taller than Zhuang Chen. He had begun cultivating at eight as well and had just broken through to the Flesh Refining Realm two days ago.
Among disciples his age, he was considered top-tier.
"You're not my opponent," Zhuang Chen shook his head.
Zhao Changhe snorted. "We'll know after we fight."
He wielded his spear and launched forward. His Immovable Rock Spear Art blended offense and defense, solid and imposing.
Zhuang Chen drew his sword.
In that instant, it was as if he became a different person.
His eyes sharpened. Even the snot under his nose seemed to turn into sword intent.
His chubby body moved lightly, like a breeze brushing willow branches, easily avoiding each spear thrust.
Qin Yun's pupils shrank.
"Refining Tendons already… after only two years?"
This speed surpassed even his own.
Dragon Mountain Daoist looked over in surprise.
Divine Sword Old Man's lips curved upward.
Zhuang Chen counterattacked.
The wooden sword in his hand thrust forward, carrying a weight like a mountain pressing down, accompanied by a faint dragon-tiger resonance.
Zhao Changhe's face turned pale. His spear was steady, firm as stone—
—but it couldn't block it.
Bang!
Zhao Changhe was sent flying and crashed to the ground.
Several disciples rushed forward, but he quickly stood up himself.
There was disbelief in his eyes.
That sword should have crushed him.
Yet at the last moment, the force vanished completely.
Aside from looking messy, he wasn't injured at all.
"Sorry," Zhuang Chen said honestly. "I almost couldn't hold back."
Zhao Changhe gritted his teeth.
But those sincere eyes made it impossible to get angry.
Dragon Mountain Daoist stared at Zhuang Chen.
"Heavy as light… At such a young age, his Sword Dao is already this refined. Could he possess an Innate Sword Bone?"
Divine Sword Old Man finally laughed loudly.
"You old Daoist have good eyes. Did you think I accepted this disciple for fun? Your eighth disciple is indeed talented—but if Chen'er were his age, the outcome would be uncertain."
Qin Yun lowered his head, fists clenched.
Dragon Mountain Daoist nodded sincerely.
"Innate Sword Bone, and a pure heart. Senior Brother, you have found a fine disciple."
Divine Sword Old Man felt immensely satisfied.
But when he looked over, Dragon Mountain Daoist's expression held admiration—yet no envy.
Dragon Mountain Daoist chuckled inwardly.
Before Ning Qi, perhaps he would have envied this.
Now?
Impossible.
His gaze shifted.
Ning Qi had already stood up and was walking toward the arena.
Dragon Mountain Daoist quickly sent a voice transmission.
"Little Nine, restrain yourself."
He was worried Ning Qi might accidentally damage the Divine Sword Sect's treasure.
On Zhenwu Mountain, he alone truly understood Ning Qi's realm.
Ning Qi nodded faintly.
He stopped another disciple and said calmly, "I'll do it."
Only he could see clearly—Zhuang Chen had just stepped into Refining Tendons, and his sword realm was already quite high.
No disciple under ten in the True Martial Sect could defeat him.
Except himself.
Ning Qi had no intention of retreating.
As a True Disciple, he wouldn't allow the opponent to sweep everyone unchecked.
Nor did he enjoy dramatic last-minute entrances.
He preferred to end things quickly.
He wanted to return to the Seeking Dao Courtyard and continue reading.
The crowd was stunned.
Ning Qi appeared less and less these days, and to many, he was increasingly mysterious.
Before anyone could react, he was already standing opposite Zhuang Chen.
"Little Fatty," Ning Qi said calmly, "make your move."
Zhuang Chen frowned seriously.
"Ning Qi, I don't want to hit you. You should go down."
What he originally wanted to say was: You're not very smart, I can't bear to hit you.
But he felt that might be rude, so he changed it.
Ning Qi saw everything clearly in his eyes.
He sighed helplessly.
Slowly exhaling, Ning Qi decided—
It was time to teach this silly Little Fatty a proper lesson.