Wang Tengfei's demeanor remained as nonchalant as ever, as if Meng Hao did not even exist to him. Such disdain and arrogance was simply because he was Wang Tengfei!
He took a step forward and unleashed a second finger strike.
This was the very same finger strike that had previously shattered Meng Hao's jade slip, and now it descended once more.
Meng Hao did not even wipe the blood from the corner of his mouth, simply swallowing it down. Performing incantation gestures with his hands while chanting spells, he caused the scattered flying swords to shoot forth once more, hurtling directly toward his opponent.
He decisively relinquished fine control over these flying swords, allowing them to gather maximum momentum as they lunged forward.
His right hand slapped his storage bag. Amidst a flash of sword light, more than twenty additional flying swords emerged, forming a second wave that charged out wildly. This rain of swords now numbered nearly forty!
Meng Hao knew his battle strategy had a flaw: the flying swords lacked agility, possessing only speed and sharpness. If his opponent chose to dodge, though it might require some effort, it would not be difficult. However, he knew that with his opponent's arrogance, he would surely refuse to evade.
And even if he did dodge, Meng Hao had already anticipated it and prepared a countermeasure.
Such a peak battle was extremely rare among Qi Condensation cultivators. It could be said that in the State of Zhao, over the past few hundred years, not even a cultivator at the sixth level of Qi Condensation could have engaged in a battle as astonishing as this!
Meng Hao had an abundance of flying swords. Ever since the battle at Black Mountain, he had constantly pondered his combat style, using the Wind Blade Art as an auxiliary technique to control a vast number of flying swords. However, because it consumed too much spiritual energy, he had previously only been able to control twenty.
Furthermore, with insufficient cultivation, controlling them was no simple task. No one had ever attempted this before; there was no agility, nor could the angles of flight be altered. It was essentially abandoning the swords' agility entirely, relying solely on calculating their trajectories to gain the upper hand.
Thus, his control of so many flying swords was no different from a mortal throwing everything they had, except he used spiritual energy instead of his hands. As long as his spiritual energy did not run dry, he would possess the power to suppress anyone at the same cultivation level!
Wang Tengfei did not use a single technique from the Reliance Sect, for he utterly disdained the sect and looked down on its arts. Everything he displayed came from his own clan, carrying a heaven-shaking aura that allowed his Qi Condensation spells to surpass those of the same level!
Meng Hao's flying swords and Wang Tengfei's techniques left the surrounding cultivators utterly dumbfounded.
The scene before them completely shattered their preconceptions.
No matter how much they had previously looked down on Meng Hao, at this moment, they could not help but be shaken by his seemingly endless supply of magical treasures.
Not only them, but Shangguan Xiu, Grand Elder Ouyang, and even Sect Leader He Luohua now wore incredibly solemn expressions.
Everyone knew that Wang Tengfei was powerful enough to reign supreme among those of the same cultivation level.
Yet Meng Hao was proving to be just as formidable, fighting Wang Tengfei to a standstill without showing any signs of weakness. This sight caused everyone present to gasp in disbelief.
At this moment, forty flying swords filled the sky, transforming into streaks of whirlwind, stirring up the energy of the eight directions. Roaring before Meng Hao, they seemed intent on tearing apart everything in their path as they charged straight toward Wang Tengfei.
A normal cultivator at the peak of the sixth level of Qi Condensation would barely be able to endure such a strike.
Even Meng Hao had blood spilling from the corner of his mouth, and he had to continuously swallow demon cores just to barely hold on.
Continuous, deafening explosions rang out. His forty flying swords clashed repeatedly against Wang Tengfei, half of them instantly shattering while the rest spun backward. Yet, Wang Tengfei's second finger strike still couldn't shake Meng Hao, only causing him to spit out another mouthful of fresh blood.
Anyone else would have been wary of Meng Hao by now. Yet, Wang Tengfei maintained his indifferent demeanor, taking a third step and unleashing a third finger strike.
The spiritual energy in Meng Hao's body was almost depleted, but with his abundant supply of demon cores, he could continuously replenish it, maintaining his spiritual power at a certain level.
As Wang Tengfei unleashed his third finger strike, a scene flashed in Meng Hao's mind: during this third finger strike, the gourd had been snatched away. Surging killing intent erupted from Meng Hao's eyes; showing no intention of retreating, he lunged forward half a step instead.
He raised both hands, forming a hand seal. At this moment, three or four storage bags on his person vibrated violently, and streaks of sword light shot out in rapid succession under the astonished gazes of the onlookers.
With a flick of Meng Hao's sleeve, the first, second, and third waves transformed into a dazzling screen of sword rain: one sword, ten swords, twenty swords, thirty swords...
...up to seventy flying swords, divided into four streams, carrying a heaven-shaking sword light as they shot straight toward Wang Tengfei, one after another.
Blood continuously spilled from the corner of Meng Hao's mouth as he ceaselessly swallowed medicinal pills. His eyes were already crimson red, and his killing intent, unprecedented in its ferocity, reached its peak. Even if his spiritual power was completely depleted, he would spare nothing!
Wang Tengfei let out a cold snort. With the surrounding crowd witnessing this battle with their own eyes, he did not want to lose face by awkwardly dodging. Moreover, although these numerous flying swords seemed to follow a single trajectory, there was something hidden within them, as if all his possible escape routes had been locked down.
A sharp light flashed in Wang Tengfei's eyes. As the third finger strike was unleashed, the fourth followed immediately, and a patch of void instantly appeared before him.
As the ripples began to spread, Meng Hao's hands rapidly changed hand seals, finally forming a cross shape that pointed forward.
"Wind Condensing Sword!"
As his voice rang out, those seventy-plus flying swords caused the swords of everyone in the crowd to tremble incessantly.
In an instant, those swords condensed together, resembling a gigantic flying sword from afar.
This sword, formed from seventy flying swords, continuously emitted layers of sword light the moment it took shape, striking fear into the hearts of the onlookers.
If one looked closely, one could see that the fourth wave of flying swords had suddenly accelerated, piercing through the third wave, surpassing the second, and colliding with the first, forming the shape of a single sword. An invisible current of wind also swirled around it, helping to prevent the sword's form from dissipating.
This was Meng Hao using the Wind Blade Technique as an auxiliary to create the Flying Sword Formation—the strongest sword move he had spent the longest time researching after returning from Black Mountain.
When the sword was unleashed, its momentum struck straight at Wang Tengfei, sweeping forward with the force of splitting bamboo. A booming sound echoed in all directions, and in front of Wang Tengfei, space rippled and twisted, as if an immense pressure was bearing down on him, forcing him to take a step back for the very first time.