Wang Tengfei stood in silence, casting a casual glance toward Meng Hao. His gaze was calm, yet it carried an air of lofty superiority, as if he were looking down upon an ant from his past.
With a casual flick of his right hand, as if swatting away a fly, a whirlwind materialized before him. It spun around him once before hurtling directly toward Meng Hao.
A sharp light flashed in Meng Hao's eyes. He had nothing to say to Wang Tengfei; everything would be decided by his swords and his magic. For him, this was the most intense battle of his eighteen years of life.
Taking half a step forward, he raised his right hand, instantly conjuring a wind blade. It collided violently with the oncoming whirlwind, unleashing a low rumble as chaotic gusts of wind blasted outward.
Fight!
Meng Hao slapped his storage bag, and twenty flying swords shot out in unison. Though they wobbled precariously, struggling to maintain their balance, they still erupted with a brilliant sword light and immense power.
Pointing his right hand forward once more, the twenty flying swords transformed into streaks of prismatic light. Agile and relentless, they darted back and forth, piercing straight toward Wang Tengfei.
Fight!
A rain of sword light descended, condensing into dazzling crimson points that concentrated the power of all twenty flying swords. In a flash, they shot directly at Wang Tengfei.
The moment they collided with the whirlwind, a barrage of explosions rang out. The whirlwind was torn to shreds, but the flying swords were also flung aside by the violent gales, losing their trajectory and scattering in the wind.
To an onlooker, it seemed as though the flying swords were merely caught in the swirling currents, but in truth, the gale was rapidly weakening, on the verge of dissipating entirely.
Wang Tengfei's expression remained unchanged, save for the cold arrogance written across his face. He slowly took half a step forward. The moment his foot touched the ground, his cultivation base at the peak of the sixth level of Qi Condensation erupted.
A heavy spiritual pressure suddenly descended upon the arena. Performing a hand seal with his right hand, he conjured a stream of water that resembled transparent, silken snow, which shot straight toward Meng Hao.
This was no magic of the Reliance Sect, but rather a heritage technique of the Wang Clan.
Meng Hao's eyes narrowed. Without hesitation, he produced a beast core and swallowed it. With his left hand, he manipulated the wobbly flying swords, guiding them erratically back to his side. Simultaneously, his right hand formed a seal, summoning a fire python several zhang long.
It lunged straight at the stream of water, resulting in an ear-splitting explosion that whipped up a fierce whirlwind.
“Water-Wind Slash!”
Wang Tengfei spoke calmly. His eyes held no disdain, only composure, yet they carried the very same confidence he had possessed when he had intended to cripple Meng Hao's cultivation.
Almost the instant the words left his mouth, the streams of water merged with the whirlwind, transforming into a massive staff. With water as its body and wind as its propellant, it smashed straight down toward Meng Hao's head.
The twenty flying swords surged forward in unison to block the staff. Amidst a barrage of explosions, the swords lost control and scattered wildly, several of them on the verge of shattering. Meng Hao was forced back to the very edge of the arena. Before him, a massive, three-zhang-wide palm print had been deeply gouged into the arena floor—a truly terrifying sight.
A streak of blood appeared between Meng Hao's eyebrows. Fresh blood flowed from his nose, dripping onto the ground, making him look utterly ferocious.
Twenty flying swords could have finished off Han Zong, yet facing Wang Tengfei, Meng Hao couldn't even make him draw a magic treasure. Just one spell, one Meng Hao had never seen before, had almost cost him his life right here.
If Meng Hao had only been at the fifth level of Qi Condensation, he truly could not have dodged that strike.
"Wang Tengfei's innate talent is extraordinary, and he has comprehended quite a few powerful spells within the Qi Condensation realm. Even a seventh-level Qi Condensation cultivator would find him a headache."
"Meng Hao is surely bound to die in this battle."
Shangguan Tu frowned even deeper. Although his eyes still held killing intent when he looked at Meng Hao, he kept wondering how he should take Meng Hao's storage bag after he died.
Seeing Meng Hao dodge the strike, Wang Tengfei's expression remained as calm as ever. It was as if his previous attack had been merely casual, like an elephant stepping on an ant; even if the ant escaped the first time, it would still be crushed the second.
A smile bloomed on his handsome face as he advanced, his right hand casually pointing straight at Meng Hao.
The moment this finger strike was unleashed, Meng Hao could no longer hear the chatter outside. The scene from that day appeared before his eyes: in that world, Wang Tengfei had also used a single finger to bind his body, a single finger to destroy his jade pendant, a single finger to take his gourd, and a single finger to cripple his cultivation.
Intense battle intent blazed in Meng Hao's eyes. That day, he had been humiliated by those very finger strikes.
But today, he was no longer as weak as before. Although he had been forced into the Inner Sect trial before he could even register, he was prepared nonetheless. For more than half of the past month, he had sacrificed agility, using a direct and straightforward method to control even more flying swords.
It was as if, the moment Wang Tengfei's fingertip descended, Meng Hao slapped his storage bag, swallowed a demon core, and simultaneously thrust out both hands, forming hand seals and chanting incantations. Immediately, all the flying swords on the plaza vibrated, their humming in that instant shaking heaven and earth. Here, ten swords were roaring; there, more than ten were raging. In just a blink, the flying swords accelerated, transforming into a rain of swords that flew straight towards Meng Hao from all directions.
In a flash, as Meng Hao's hands descended, aimed at Wang Tengfei's finger strike, the flying swords, carrying astonishing momentum, roared as they shot straight towards Wang Tengfei.
At the same time, even more flying swords flew out from his storage bag.
The number of flying swords he controlled this time truly surpassed his original limit, carrying an overwhelming momentum, piercing through all obstacles, and stabbing towards Wang Tengfei's finger strike.
Boom!
An explosion shook the entire Outer Sect. The twenty flying swords, upon reaching half a zhang from Wang Tengfei's finger, stopped. A resounding boom rang out, and all twenty swords were sent flying, quite a few damaged and shattered, but they had also managed to block Wang Tengfei's finger strike.
Fresh blood spilled from the corner of his mouth. He immediately took out another demon core and swallowed it. His eyes were bloodshot, and his killing intent had reached its peak, yet he didn't utter a single word. That was his nature: the more he wanted to kill, the more enraged he became, the more silent he grew.
Wang Tengfei's expression remained as nonchalant as ever, as if he hadn't paid Meng Hao the slightest bit of attention. This sort of disdain and arrogance was simply because he *was* Wang Tengfei!