Helping each other with countless me.

Chapter 550 Defeat
Yue Buqun stood atop the broken wall, surrounded by a purple aura, his gaze gentle yet profoundly insightful.

He swept across the battlefield.

Feng Qingyang and that solitary white figure had disappeared into the distant mountains and forests, leaving only the faint yet incomparably sharp sword energy lingering in the air.

Li Zhongren stood holding his mace, his aura as heavy and imposing as a mountain, as if the fierce battle just now was merely a warm-up.

Although Linghu Chong looked slightly disheveled and was breathing a little faster, his eyes remained sharp and he was not seriously injured.

His gaze finally settled on the demonic cult members who were gathered together, looking as if facing a formidable enemy.

Xiang Wentian had blood at the corner of his mouth, Tong Baixiong was leaning on his giant axe, his chest heaving violently, and Qu Yang's face was ashen, clearly injured by the internal organs from his own Purple Cloud Sword Qi that spanned dozens of feet.

Of the nearly one hundred followers, only a dozen or so remained, all wounded and demoralized.

Yue Buqun couldn't help but ponder.

The sword strike that he had just unleashed, gathering all his strength and traversing a great distance, had killed Sang San Niang, severely injured Qu Yang, and shocked the entire audience. However, its domineering power also backfired on him.

Although he had mastered the Purple Cloud Divine Skill, he had not yet reached the legendary perfect state of "purple qi coming from the east, endless and continuous". Therefore, the meridians in his body were not yet able to continuously withstand such a high degree of concentrated internal energy.

At this moment, he felt a faint burning pain in his meridians, and his blood and qi were surging endlessly.

Forcibly unleashing the same level of sword energy again could leave hidden dangers in the meridians that are difficult to heal, affecting future progress to higher realms. It would be a losing proposition.

Furthermore…

Yue Buqun's gaze swept over the terrified faces of Xiang Wentian and the others.

Although the Demonic Cult is evil, it has a profound foundation, especially the invincible Dongfang Bubai who lives deep in Blackwood Cliff and is famous throughout the world.

If we were to kill Elders Xiang Wentian, Tong Baixiong, and Qu Yang, along with their elite followers, today, it would certainly be gratifying, but it would also be tantamount to completely breaking off relations and would inevitably invite Dongfang Bubai's relentless revenge.

Although the Huashan Sect now has Uncle Feng in charge, its own Zixia has reached its peak, and two rising stars, Chong'er and Zhongren, are emerging, its foundation is still shallow and it is far from being able to wage a full-scale war against the Demonic Sect.

When the two tigers fight, regardless of the outcome, it will only allow Zuo Lengchan of Songshan, who is hiding in the shadows, to reap the benefits.

Of course, he couldn't just let these people go. On the one hand, if word got out, it would damage his reputation as the Gentleman Sword. On the other hand, it would make the Demonic Sect think that he was afraid of Dongfang Bubai. In fact, he was not afraid of Dongfang Bubai at all.

Therefore, he needs to prepare a reasonable excuse.

Weighing the pros and cons takes only a moment.

"Humph."

Yue Buqun let out a soft, ambiguous hum. The sound was not loud, but it clearly reached the ears of every member of the Demonic Sect, carrying an undeniable air of authority.

"You demonic cultists, no matter how you learned of the whereabouts of my Huashan disciples, you have offended my Huashan today. I should have exterminated you all as a warning to others!"

Xiang Wentian and the others felt a chill run down their spines. Tong Baixiong gripped his giant axe tightly, while Qu Yangqiang mustered his inner energy, preparing for a desperate fight.

"But I didn't expect you to be so shameless as to actually send people from outside Mingzhou. I wonder if your Eastern Cult Leader knows about this."

At this point, Yue Buqun paused, his eyes filled with mockery and disdain.

"You think you're the Heavenly King? I think you should call yourself the Heavenly King's grandson. Take your men and get out of here. Go back and tell the Eastern Cult Leader that I've remembered what happened today. If there's a next time, it won't be something that one arm (referring to Sang San Niang) can handle."

Xiang Wentian's expression shifted, a mixture of humiliation, resentment, and anger, but ultimately transformed into deep apprehension and a sense of relief at surviving a calamity.

He gave Yue Buqun a deep look, then glanced warily at the direction where the sword energy was surging and at Li Zhongren's demonic figure in the distance, before suddenly waving his hand.

"go!"

The members of the Demonic Sect, feeling as if they had been granted a pardon, helped the severely wounded Qu Yang and carried Sang San Niang's mangled body. With Xiang Wentian and Tong Baixiong covering their retreat, they hastily and hastily retreated into the darkness, disappearing in the blink of an eye.
"Chong'er, Zhongren, are you alright?"

"Thank you for your concern, Master."

Linghu Chong cupped his hands in a respectful gesture.

"Your disciple has disgraced his master."

"what."

Upon hearing this, Yue Buqun burst into laughter. If anyone else had heard Linghu Chong's words, they would probably have been furious. A fifteen-year-old boy, surrounded by two elders of the Demonic Sect and dozens of followers, was able to withstand the attack for more than the time it takes for an incense stick to burn. This was blatant boasting.

Li Zhongren, on the other hand, remained calm and composed, his face expressionless.

"Master, what about Uncle Feng?"

"Don't worry, that person has no intention of killing."

Yue Buqun said, his eyes slightly narrowed.

As a fellow top expert, and because of the unique perception ability of the Zixia Divine Skill, he actually discovered Ximen Chuixue much earlier.

He didn't know much about this person, but he still knew a little.

The fact that a pure swordsman could be invited is probably because of Master Feng himself. It is said that this person is obsessed with swords and has nothing but swords. He is also ruthless when he fights.

But that doesn't mean he's brainless. His sword energy just now was a reminder and a warning. I don't care if you spar with my grandmaster uncle, and I don't care if you're used as a henchman by the Demonic Sect. But if you don't know what's good for you, then we won't follow the rules with you. If we beat you, no matter what kind of sword god you are, you'll die in Mingzhou.

In this world, apart from a very few people, no top master can fight two top masters at the same time.

Therefore, as long as he remains here, Ximen Chuixue will not dare to forget everything and risk his life against his martial uncle.
Deep in the mountains, far from the noise of the dilapidated temple.

Moonlight filtered through the sparse branches and leaves, illuminating two distinctly different figures.

Feng Qingyang had white hair and beard, wore a gray robe, and held a seemingly ordinary longsword made of green steel. His aura was harmonious and restrained, as if he had become one with the ancient trees and rocks around him.

If it weren't for the sharp sword intent flowing over that sword, which seemed capable of piercing the sky, he would have been just an ordinary old man from the mountains.

Opposite him stood Ximen Chuixue, dressed in pristine white, his clothes spotless.

He held the strangely shaped black-sheathed longsword in his arms, and his whole being was like a block of ice that had stood for ten thousand years, exuding a pure and extreme coldness and aloofness.

His gaze was terrifyingly focused; he saw only Feng Qingyang, or rather, only the sword in Feng Qingyang's hand.

No words were spoken, no small talk was required.

When Ximen Chuixue locked onto Feng Qingyang and pounced like a meteor, Feng Qingyang immediately realized that this was not a lackey of the Demonic Sect, but a pure swordsman who had come solely to pursue the ultimate swordsmanship.

Ximen Chuixue's sword intent contained no killing intent, only the purest and coldest desire for the Dao.

He came here only to prove his swordsmanship. Whether Feng Qingyang would be taken advantage of by the Demonic Sect or whether the fierce battle would leave him with hidden dangers was not within his consideration.

His sword was everything.

"Such a pure swordsmanship!"

Feng Qingyang inwardly praised him, but also felt a long-lost excitement of meeting a worthy opponent. Yue Buqun was indeed a master strategist. The defeat of the Demonic Sect had brought this unexpected encounter back to a pure swordsmanship contest. However, that domineering purple sword energy just now was not like Yue Buqun's personality. He knew it was a reminder.

Thinking of this, Feng Qingyang felt a warmth in his heart. Yue Buqun was a man of deep cunning, and he had never liked him much. But ever since this kid broke through to the fifth level of the Purple Cloud Divine Skill, he could be said to have gone through many trials and tribulations and emerged from the darkness in his heart.

If in the past his gentlemanly demeanor was merely a facade for the sake of Mount Hua, now this gentlemanly demeanor is slowly becoming ingrained in his very being.

Okay, okay
"Om-!"

Ximen Chuixue has made a move!

His sword was finally drawn!

There were no complicated moves, no earth-shattering momentum, only a simple, direct, and incredibly fast white sword light that surpassed the limits of thought!
Wherever the sword light passed, the air seemed to freeze and tear apart, leaving a faint ice mark that pierced straight into Feng Qingyang's brow!

This sword strike embodies his lifelong understanding of "speed," "accuracy," and "ruthlessness," returning to simplicity and pointing directly to the source!

Feng Qingyang's cloudy old eyes suddenly burst forth with a brilliant light!

Dugu Nine Swords - Breaking Sword Style!

The seemingly ordinary steel longsword in his hand moved backward, its trajectory mysterious and unpredictable. It was not a direct block, but rather the tip of the sword pointed at the weakest and least stressed point of Ximen Chuixue's sure-kill sword at an incredible angle!
Like a skilled butcher carving up an ox, he penetrates the spaces between the oxen with no thickness!
"Ding!"

A crisp, soul-piercing metallic clang rang out!

The two figures separated the moment they touched!
Ximen Chuixue's seemingly inevitable sword strike was effortlessly neutralized by Feng Qingyang.

The force emanating from Feng Qingyang's sword tip was not immense, but rather a strange energy that guided, disintegrated, and neutralized, making Ximen Chuixue's focused sword strike feel as if it had pierced through the void, causing him extreme discomfort.

A brighter light shone in Ximen Chuixue's eyes, as if he had discovered a priceless treasure.

He stopped testing the waters and followed the sword, transforming into a white phantom. The sword light was like a cascading silver river, instantly enveloping Feng Qingyang!

Every sword strike was incredibly sharp, aimed directly at vital points, and carried a chilling aura that could freeze everything!
Feng Qingyang remained motionless, but the long sword in his hand transformed into a hazy gray light and shadow.

He brought out the essence of the Dugu Nine Swords to its fullest extent!

No matter from which angle or in what way Ximen Chuixue's sword attacked, Feng Qingyang's sword could always strike first, accurately finding the weakness and using techniques such as pointing, drawing, slicing, or sticking to neutralize the terrifying sword force that was enough to split mountains and shatter rocks with minimal force.

His swordplay was effortless and natural, without any fixed form, yet it was exquisitely skillful, perfectly demonstrating the realm of "anticipating the enemy's moves" and "winning without moves".

Sword energy crisscrossed the forest, the leaves were shredded by the invisible sword intent, and deep sword marks appeared on the ancient tree trunks around.

The two figures moved so fast that they were just blurry shadows. Their swords clashed, producing a continuous, crisp sound like pearls falling onto a jade plate, yet it contained a deadly killing intent.

We've exhausted all our tricks!

Feng Qingyang sighed inwardly.

"This young man's swordsmanship has reached a state of perfection! Pure, focused, and icy, he has pushed the art of the sword to its ultimate limit! Given time, his achievements will be limitless!"

However, at the age of eighty, his vitality could not compare with that of a young person.

Prolonged, extreme use of the Dugu Nine Swords takes a huge toll on both mental and physical strength.

His movements remained precise, and his sword intent remained sharp, but every breath and every heartbeat seemed to remind him of the limits of his physical capabilities.

Ximen Chuixue keenly noticed this extremely subtle change!

His sword became even faster!
Like the undying cold wind of the polar regions, carrying the will to freeze the soul, each sword strike is faster and heavier than the last!
He wanted to turn this slight advantage into a complete victory!
Feng Qingyang felt unprecedented pressure!
Ximen Chuixue's swordplay was like a tidal wave, one wave higher than the next, constantly compressing the space for him to dodge and maneuver.

He no longer focused solely on defense; his "finalist" style of attack became fully integrated, and his sword light suddenly became unpredictable, sometimes like a celestial being descending from the heavens, or a gazelle hanging by its horns, and sometimes like a venomous snake spitting its tongue, cunning and deadly! He attempted to use offense as defense to disrupt Ximen Chuixue's rhythm.

"laugh!"

The two figures passed each other again!

A three-inch-long tear silently appeared on the cuff of Feng Qingyang's gray robe, from which a faint trace of blood slowly seeped out.

Ximen Chuixue's left shoulder was also slashed by the sword energy, leaving a faint white mark on his skin.

The two stood three zhang apart, swords in hand.

Looking at the tear in his sleeve, Feng Qingyang's cloudy eyes showed no frustration, but rather a hint of relief and admiration.

He slowly sheathed his sword.

Looking at the white mark on his left shoulder, Ximen Chuixue's cold eyes flashed with a barely perceptible emotion—a recognition of a true powerhouse.

He slowly sheathed his sword.

Under the moonlight, the mountains and forests returned to silence, with only the lingering sword energy hissing in the air.

"Excellent swordsmanship."

Feng Qingyang spoke, his voice tinged with weariness, yet still clear and resonant.

"Concession."

Ximen Chuixue's voice was still cold, but it had lost some of its aloofness.

"The Nine Swords of Dugu are indeed worthy of their name. They can break through all the moves in the world, and strike first after being attacked. They are divine skills."

Feng Qingyang smiled slightly.

"Your swordsmanship is pure to the extreme, and fast to the extreme. Given time, I fear no one in this world can match you in this art."

Ximen Chuixue remained silent for a moment, then nodded slightly to Feng Qingyang, a gesture of respect for a true senior in swordsmanship.

"My visit to Mingzhou this time was due to breaking the rules. If you need my services in the future, please come to Tianshan in Guzhou to find me..."

Having said that, he didn't look in the direction of the battlefield again. His figure flickered, like ice and snow merging into the moonlight, and he disappeared silently into the vast mountains and forests.

Feng Qingyang stood still, gently stroking the tear in his sleeve, feeling the churning blood and qi within him gradually calm down.

In the battle just now, it seemed that the two sides were evenly matched, but in fact, due to his qi and blood, he was ultimately half a step slower at the last moment.

Ximen Chuixue, being young and strong, had a slight advantage.

But the outcome of the match was no longer important to him.

To encounter such a pure swordsman at this age, and to validate all that I have learned in my life, is already a great joy in life.

He looked towards the dilapidated temple, sensing Yue Buqun's calm aura, Li Zhongren's powerful blood and energy, and Linghu Chong's rapidly recovering sword energy. A genuine, relieved smile appeared on his face.

In the end, Huashan won this round.

(End of this chapter)