Daoist Competition

Fang Zhenlu stepped down from the peak, the waves beneath his feet surging and rolling without pause, bringing him to the center of the field in an instant.

Ren Mingyao froze for a moment. He had originally thought that competing with a few of Fang Zhenlu’s disciples would be enough to catch True Master Meng’s attention and demonstrate his cultivation progress.

But he never expected that Fang Zhenlu himself would come down to the arena, leaving him momentarily stunned.

However, Ren Mingyao quickly reconsidered; being able to spar with one of the Top Ten Disciples would give him a chance to gain some visibility in front of the various True Masters. If he could last a few rounds, it would be far better than dueling with Fang Zhenlu’s subordinates. With this thought, he became energized, stepped forward, and bowed respectfully, "Senior Brother Fang, greetings. I humbly ask for your guidance."

Fang Zhenlu casually waved his sleeve, his face indifferent and dismissive, "Junior Brother Ren, no need for formalities. Just use whatever tricks you have up your sleeve."

Though Ren Mingyao was well aware that his strength was far inferior to Fang Zhenlu’s, the casual dismissal stung. He forced a slight smile and responded, "Then please forgive any offense, Senior Brother Fang."

At a distance, Elder Xun stood suspended in midair, his eyes partially open but silent, not intervening.

The sect’s disciple competition was for showcasing divine power techniques. Occasionally, when the fights grew intense, causing minor injuries was deemed unavoidable. However, if the stakes escalated to matters of life and death, Elder Xun would need to step in swiftly to rescue the participant.

Zhang Yan focused his gaze. He had conducted prior research and learned that Fang Zhenlu’s cultivation level had reached the Third Grade of Elixir Formation. The cultivation technique he practiced originated from the Five Skills and Three Scripture, specifically the "Xuanze Zhenmiao Shangdong Skill."

Although the technique Fang Zhenlu practiced was the same as Xiao He’s, Fang Zhenlu had already broken past the Acupoint Barrier, condensed the True Imprint of Dharma Power, and refined the Elixir Evil to the point of perfect control.

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Once a cultivator condenses a True Seal, their cultivation techniques may be the same, yet the methods they employ become infinitely varied and unique.

Ren Mingyao let out a shout. Beneath his feet, the Flying Kite let out a piercing whistle as it carried him into the clear sky.

With a flick of his sleeve, he sent forth a sword plate from his sleeve bag, which began circling in midair, emitting threads of light that sparkled and shimmered brilliantly.

He brought his fingers together and pointed, commanding, "Attack!"

At his command, the sword plate released a beam of sword light as thick as a child’s arm. The beam trembled, bursting into thousands of strands of sword qi, which scattered like fireworks, raining chaos upon the area!

Fang Zhenlu remained composed, unmoving as though he did not regard the attack seriously. From behind him emerged groups of water spheres, varying in size, some as large as fists, others as small as grains of rice, their surfaces as transparent as amber and glistening like crystalline pearls.

These water spheres orbited him, whirling unpredictably, their movements strikingly beautiful as the morning sunlight struck them, emitting rainbow-colored brilliance that dazzled and captivated the eye.

The thousands of strands of sword qi rained down and collided with the water spheres, as if crashing into ancient, unyielding ice. Metallic ringing filled the air, golden light exploded outward, and the sword qi scattered and ricocheted without penetrating the defenses.

Fang Zhenlu stood firmly within his protective sphere, seemingly unaffected. He chuckled lightly and spoke in a loud voice, "This Dharma technique of yours is a superficial trick, similar to those of the Yuan Yang Sword Sect. It relies excessively on external objects and fails to grasp the true core. While it may appear powerful now and advantageous in duels, over the course of a hundred years, your cultivation will undoubtedly fall short compared to your peers. This is the path of abandoning the fundamentals for temporary gain. If I were your master, I would discard you as if you were an old shoe."

As a noble family disciple of Xuanmen, Fang Zhenlu’s words were merciless, giving Ren Mingyao no leeway whatsoever and exposing his flaws entirely, dismissing his efforts as worthless.

And yet, Fang Zhenlu’s criticism wasn’t baseless. His words struck directly at the weakness of Ren Mingyao’s cultivation technique and its potential long-term consequences.

Ren Mingyao was well aware of these drawbacks. Originally, his cultivation technique had been refined step by step. However, once True Master Meng imparted this different technique to him, he no longer bothered to guide him further. Other disciples who entered the sect alongside him surged ahead in mana cultivation, surpassing him rapidly.

Ren Mingyao couldn’t bear grinding away in his cave mansion day after day for minimal progress. Driven by impatience, he sought out this technique and began to cultivate it. Over time, however, he increasingly realized its hidden flaws. Now, having reached the Sixth Grade of Condensing Pill, turning back was no longer an option.

Being reprimanded so bluntly by Fang Zhenlu in the presence of all was like being struck repeatedly by a heavy hammer to the chest. His emotions spiraled out of control as he erupted in fury. With a loud shout, he pointed at the sword plate, which quivered violently, then spun outwards, releasing a dozen beams of sharp golden light.

The light condensed into golden streaks, and the moment they appeared, they emitted sharp whistling sounds, darting forward like shooting stars or flying lightning bolts, reaching their target within an instant.

These golden beams had been refined from his Divine Weapon, fundamentally different from ordinary sword qi. Originally, he had planned to use this trump card after sparring with Fang Zhenlu for several rounds. Yet, provoked by his opponent’s words and under the watchful gaze of so many individuals, Ren Mingyao found himself losing composure. He impulsively unleashed this killer move, desperate to recover his dignity.