Myriad Dragon Divine Sovereign

In the sky above, a black miasma spread, obscuring the layers of clouds.

The massive phantom Buddha Statue behind Jieming slowly rose, bursting forth with myriad rays of Buddha Light that mesmerized the hearts of the crowd.

A golden and a black radiance shone against each other, each occupying half the sky. They emanated different auras and different artistic concepts before violently colliding.

BOOM!

The two beams of light crashed into each other, creating a violent tremor. The sky began to change color, and the entire fighting ring seemed to tremble.

CRACK! CRACK!

Gasps of amazement rippled irrepressibly through the crowd!

Suddenly, cracks appeared on the Buddha Statue. They grew larger and larger until, with a final RUMBLE, the statue shattered into motes of Golden Yuan Qi that dissipated into the air.

"Pfft—"

Jieming stumbled back seven or eight steps before spraying a mouthful of red blood. Even so, the look on his face was still incredibly grim.

Wen Qingye stood firm, his body not wavering in the slightest. Only his arm gave a sudden, slight twitch, but no one noticed.

CRASH!

Suddenly, there was a deafening rumble.

The crowd watched, dumbfounded, as the entire eighth fighting ring collapsed without warning. The hard Cyan Stone had uniformly crumbled into half-inch-square pebbles, spreading out and scattering across the ground like a collapsed sand sculpture with a loud RATTLE.

Jieming, his stance unsteady, tumbled into the gravel.

Only the patch of stone beneath Wen Qingye’s feet remained perfectly intact.

It stood straight up from the ground like a round stone pillar, almost like a divine throne. Wen Qingye stood atop it, his white robes rustling and fluttering behind him. He looked ahead with a faint smile, his bearing and aura so commanding that people dared not look at him directly.

...

"Incredible!" Just then, a cry of surprise rang out from behind the members of the Zhou Family.

The Zhou Family members couldn’t help but turn to look. They saw an old man with grizzled hair and a wrinkled face, his eyes filled with appreciation as he gazed at Wen Qingye. Behind him stood Zhou Qing’s father, Zhou Zhenyuan.

"Great Elder!" The members of the Zhou Family were all startled and called out in unison.

"Mm, no need for formalities." The old man waved his hand, then looked at Wen Qingye, shaking his head with a sigh. "He actually diverted all of Jieming’s Primordial Qi into the ground. To be able to manipulate Primordial Qi with such exquisite skill... it’s simply unheard of, unbelievable."

Zhou Zhenyuan looked at Wen Qingye standing in the center, ecstatic. "This Wen Qingye really didn’t disappoint me! To think he’s this powerful."

"Mm. This lad is likely no weaker than Luu Fangliang was the other day—perhaps even stronger." The Zhou Family’s Great Elder nodded, then clapped Zhou Zhenyuan on the shoulder and chuckled. "Well done, well done. If you can manage to win this boy over, it will be a great service."

"Yes, Great Elder, rest assured. I will certainly do my best," Zhou Zhenyuan said quickly.

Hearing this, Zhou Qing couldn’t help but frown, but she instantly swallowed her thoughts.

"Hmph." Zhou Yingg looked at Wen Qingye on the ring, feeling an inexplicable irritation and anger rise in her heart. She couldn’t help but let out a heavy snort.

It was only then that Wen Qingye realized he was surrounded. The area was packed so tightly not even a drop of water could pass. A dense sea of people seemed to have encircled the entire Qinglan Platform, stretching as far as the eye could see. These were all people who had rushed over after hearing the news.

"Advance to the ninth ring!"

Just then, a booming voice rang out like a sudden clap of thunder—sonorous, powerful, and stirring.

"Heavens! The ninth ring! It’s been years since anyone made it to the ninth ring!"

"To think I’d be lucky enough to see someone challenge the ninth ring today! This trip was well worth it."

"Just what is this Wen Qingye’s background? He’s incredible! Based on this performance alone, he can definitely get onto the Cyan Cloud List."

"This trip really wasn’t a waste. I actually got to see someone fight their way to the ninth ring!"

Wen Qingye stood upon the ninth ring, his gaze serene and distant.

The Vice Hall Master of Qinglan Hall frowned slightly as he watched Wen Qingye. "Let’s have the others go first and wear him down a bit. I get the feeling this kid still hasn’t reached his limit."

The opulently dressed youth shook his head and laughed. "If you had let me go up earlier, this Wen Qingye would already be defeated."

The Vice Hall Master of Qinglan Hall shook his head. "You can’t go up yet. Those are the rules, and I can’t break them. Even if his collateral is three Emperor-Grade Martial Arts manuals—something our Qinglan Hall has no desire to accept—the rules cannot be broken."

The opulently dressed youth smiled faintly, speaking with nonchalance. "This kid is nothing but an ant in my eyes. I could crush him with a flip of my hand. Why would I need you all to wear him down for me first?"

Hearing the youth’s words, the Vice Hall Master of Qinglan Hall frowned slightly but said nothing.

「The Ninth Ring.」

First match: Against a master at the Ninth Heaven of the Yin-Yang Realm, Wen Qingye won in thirty-seven moves.

Second match: Wen Qingye won in forty moves.

Third match: He defeated his opponent in forty moves.

...

In the sixth match, Wen Qingye made a careless move and took a palm strike to his left shoulder. A sharp pain shot through his chest. If it weren’t for his Five Elements Body Refining Technique, he would have been seriously injured.

After the seventh match, Wen Qingye felt dizzy. His vision began to blur, the trembling in his hand was clearly visible, and sweat had soaked through his clothes.

The crowd watched as Wen Qingye stood alone on the ring, at the center of tens of thousands of people. He stood proudly with his sword, and even though he was drenched in sweat, his calm and detached expression remained unchanged.

At the center of the roaring crowd, he basked in the supreme glory.

"Wen Qingye... I’ll remember that name," a female Martial Artist murmured as she watched his back.

A slightly chubby Martial Artist beside her sucked in a sharp breath. "Incredible. It’s been seven years since anyone has made it to the eighth match of the ninth ring."

Another Martial Artist nodded. "I just wonder what kind of master the Qinglan Platform will send out to stop him now."

An older man looked at Wen Qingye’s proud figure and declared, "After today, the Cyan Cloud List will surely have a place for Wen Qingye!"

Countless people watched that figure from behind, his face still holding a faint smile. The beads of sweat falling from his hair seemed as clear as crystal.

Wen Qingye couldn’t help but shake his head. ’Almost there... just a little more.’

THUD, THUD!

The sound wasn’t loud, but it was crisp, and it seemed to echo in the hearts of everyone present.

Wen Qingye followed the sound with his gaze and saw the opulently dressed youth, who had been standing beside the Vice Hall Master of Qinglan Hall, slowly walking onto the ring, a trace of arrogance in his eyes.

"Mm, your strength is quite impressive." The opulently dressed youth walked up to Wen Qingye, nodded to himself, and continued, "But compared to me, it’s far too lacking. Far, far too lacking."

As he spoke, the opulently dressed youth tilted his head back, his arrogant gaze not even deigning to fall upon Wen Qingye.

Wen Qingye remained silent. After a long moment, as if recalling many things, he suddenly spoke. "You’re from the Taiyi Pavilion, aren’t you?"

"Oh? You know me?" The opulently dressed youth shot Wen Qingye a surprised look. "That’s right. I am indeed Wang Hai, a disciple of the Taiyi Pavilion."

’What a coincidence,’ Wen Qingye thought. ’This person has the exact same name as that Wang Hai from the Jinfeng Ancient Country. Their status and strength, however, are worlds apart.’

Taiyi Pavilion?

At once, the surrounding crowd erupted in shock, their eyes fixed on the opulently dressed youth in disbelief.

Zhou Zhenyuan’s brow furrowed. "He’s actually a disciple of the Taiyi Pavilion. Wen Qingye is in trouble now."

"He’s no match for someone from the Taiyi Pavilion," Zhou Qing said, unable to stop herself from shaking her head.

Zhou Sheng asked instinctively, "Why?"

"This person was able to fight Feng for several hundred rounds to a draw. Feng himself said that it would take at least five hundred rounds to defeat him. Even Feng would need five hundred rounds, and now Wen Qingye is exhausted..."

The more Zhou Zhenyuan listened, the angrier he became. He couldn’t help but roar, "Shut your mouth!"

Zhou Qing huffed. Knowing Zhou Zhenyuan was furious, she immediately fell silent.

"Alas, what a pity." The Zhou Family’s Great Elder observed them closely before finally letting out a sigh.

Zhou Zhenyuan’s brow was tightly furrowed as he asked, unwilling to accept it, "Is there really no chance for Wen Qingye to win?"

The Zhou Family’s Great Elder shook his head. "If Wen Qingye were at his peak, there might be a sliver of a chance—and only a sliver. You cannot imagine what the disciples of the Taiyi Pavilion are like. If he couldn’t be guaranteed a win even at his peak, what hope does he have now?"