One person: Starting with the Snow Drinking Blade

The Luo Tian Grand Ceremony is in full swing, and the atmosphere on the field is becoming more and more intense each day. Nie Lingfeng, the dark horse that has suddenly appeared out of nowhere, has swept through the competition and entered the top eight with an indisputable momentum.

In the third round, his opponent was Zhuge Ming, a member of the Zhuge family, known for their magical formations. Zhuge Ming set up a Qimen formation, standing in the central palace with wind, thunder, water, and fire rotating around him, attempting to trap and defeat his opponent with magic. However, Nie Lingfeng used only the "Catching the Wind and Shadows" movement technique of the Wind God Leg to weave through the formation like a ghost. Within thirty moves, he discerned the key to the opponent's energy flow, and with a palm strike imbued with the intent of the Chuang Dao, he shattered the formation's core, breaking the Qimen formation. Then, without even drawing his Snow Drinking Blade, he simply tapped Zhuge Ming lightly with the back of the blade, and Zhuge Ming collapsed unconscious.

In the fourth round, his opponent was a master of the talisman school, dressed in a Taoist robe embroidered with cloud patterns. He stepped onto the stage and immediately began to scatter talismans to form an array. However, just as the talismans slipped from his sleeve and before he could even finish making his hand seals, Nie Lingfeng had already swept in like a whirlwind, unleashing a powerful "Cloud-Dispelling Palm - Overwhelming Force"! The palm strike was like a raging torrent, not only scattering the countless talismans but also lifting his unsuspecting opponent, robe and all, and throwing him cleanly and swiftly off the edge of the arena like a kite with a broken string.

The audience's reaction, from initial astonishment and uproar to later silence and numbness, and now to complex awe, has unfolded in just two days.

"Just who is this Nie Lingfeng? He wins every match so easily, like it's child's play!"

"I heard that he was taught by a reclusive master and cultivated himself in the deep mountains and forests from a young age."

"Deep mountains? Which deep mountains could nurture such a monster? Kunlun? Or Changbai Mountain?"

"Look at his knife, it exudes a chilling aura, it's definitely not an ordinary weapon. And his movements, his palm techniques... he's practically a walking treasure trove of martial arts!"

Nie Lingfeng ignored all the discussions. He stood in the shadows under the eaves of the players' rest area, his gaze calmly fixed on the newly posted match-up chart—the quarterfinals, the next match, next to his name, clearly read: Wang Bing.

Wang Ai's grandson, and a direct descendant of the Wang family, one of the Ten Elders.

"Tsk." Nie Lingfeng clicked his tongue lightly, a barely perceptible glint of coldness flashing in his eyes. He had absolutely no liking for Wang Bing—the arrogant and domineering playboy in the comics who coveted the Feng family's "Spirit Binding and Commanding" ability and showed no mercy to Feng Xingtong. Now, facing him, he wasn't calculating victory or defeat, but rather whether to end the battle in thirty seconds, or... twenty seconds?

"Brother Feng!" Zhang Chulan, sweaty and slightly disheveled, jogged up from behind, his face beaming with barely suppressed excitement. "I won! Top 8! I'm in the top 8 too!"

"Congratulations." Nie Lingfeng continued looking at the match schedule without turning his head. "Who is your opponent?"

"Jia Zhengliang, from Jiajia Village, has an incredibly powerful ability to manipulate objects. He threw out twelve 'Immortal-Slaying Flying Knives' like they were free, like machine gun fire!" Zhang Chulan wiped the sweat from his forehead with lingering fear and lowered his voice. "I almost couldn't withstand it. Luckily, I was quick-witted and used the Golden Light Mantra to hold off a wave, then used lightning magic to catch him off guard at close range... A narrow victory, a very narrow victory."

"Winning is enough." Nie Lingfeng finally turned around, patted Zhang Chulan's shoulder, and smiled slightly. "The process isn't important, the result is. Let's go back and adjust our breathing to prepare for the next match."

The two walked side by side out of the bustling arena, heading towards the guesthouse along the cobblestone path. The afternoon sun filtered through the dense foliage, casting dappled patterns of light. A mountain breeze carried the echoes of shouts and clashing energy from the distant arena.

Just as I turned a corner of a secluded corridor, four tall figures, like gatekeepers, silently blocked the middle of the road.

All four were dressed in black suits and sunglasses, their burly figures making the suits look sharp and angular. They were expressionless, but their temples were slightly bulging, their posture was steady, and they exuded a kind of fierce aura that had been honed over the years, which was definitely not that of ordinary bodyguards.

The leader was bald, his shiny scalp reflecting the sunlight. A gruesome scar ran diagonally from the corner of his eye to his jaw on his left cheek, adding to his menacing appearance. He stepped forward, his voice low and hoarse, carrying an undeniable authority: "Mr. Nie, Mr. Zhang. Our master invites you."

Nie Lingfeng didn't stop walking, but merely raised his eyes slightly, his gaze sweeping over the four people: "Your master? Which one?"

"One of the Ten Elders, Old Master Wang Ai." The bald man paused, then added, "And Old Master Lü Ci. The two gentlemen would like to invite you two over for a chat and a cup of tea."

Zhang Chulan's expression changed instantly, his steps faltered slightly, and he subconsciously looked at Nie Lingfeng beside him.

Nie Lingfeng smiled, a faint smile that carried a hint of detachment: "Catch up? I have never met either of you gentlemen before, so what is there to reminisce about? I'm not going."

Upon hearing this, the bald man with the scarred face suddenly turned grim, his eyes behind his sunglasses becoming sharp: "Mr. Nie, I'm afraid... this is not up to you."

"Oh?" Nie Lingfeng raised an eyebrow, a half-smile on his face. "What, did the Wang and Lü families 'force' them to invite you?"

Upon hearing this, the other three men in black stepped forward simultaneously, spreading out in a subtle fan shape to block Nie Lingfeng and Zhang Chulan's paths in all directions. The faint but palpable murderous aura emanating from them suddenly intensified, as if the air itself had solidified, carrying a chilling sense of oppression. It was the aura that comes from truly seeing blood and killing people.

A few scattered contestants and tourists passing by noticed the unusual atmosphere and stopped at a distance, looking around with curiosity and fear, but none of them dared to approach.

Zhang Chulan's Adam's apple bobbed. He leaned closer to Nie Lingfeng and said in a very low voice, "Brother Feng, how about... we go take a look? After all, they're one of the Ten Elders. If we just stubbornly resist..."

"I'm not going." Nie Lingfeng's voice wasn't loud, but it was firm. He looked at the bald, scarred man and repeated, "Get out of the way."

The bald, scarred man gritted his teeth, his jaw muscles tensing. He bowed slightly, seemingly respectful, but his tone carried a blatant threat: "Mr. Nie, we are merely following orders. Please don't make things difficult for us. You two are certainly skilled, but... what about your families? Your friends? Are they as resilient as you two are?"

These words were like a pebble thrown into an icy lake, instantly shattering the surface calm.

The smile on Nie Lingfeng's face gradually disappeared completely.

He slowly, very slowly turned his head, his gaze like a solid icicle, fixed on the bald, scarred face. There was no anger or excitement in his eyes, only a bottomless coldness, as if the surrounding air had instantly dropped several degrees.

"What did you just say?" Nie Lingfeng's voice was soft, yet it clearly reached everyone's ears, each word sounding as if it were wrapped in ice shards.

The bald, scarred man felt a chill run down his spine under that gaze, and a cold sweat instantly broke out on his back. But thinking of the powerful Wang and Lü families behind him, and the methods of the two old masters, his courage returned. He straightened his back, met Nie Lingfeng's gaze, and repeated, word by word, "I said, your families and friends, perhaps..."

"roll."

Nie Lingfeng uttered only one word.

But that single word seemed to carry the fierce killing intent of a thousand troops charging out, erupting with a deafening roar! It wasn't an impact of Qi, but a pure crushing on the level of spiritual will! The bald, scarred man was struck as if by a heavy blow, his face turning deathly pale in an instant. His heart felt as if it were being gripped tightly by an invisible hand, and a suffocating sensation washed over him! His body staggered back half a step uncontrollably, his right hand instinctively reaching for his waist—where his suit jacket was slightly bulging, clearly concealing a weapon.

The other three men in black also simultaneously reached for their waists or chests, their eyes fierce, instantly escalating the tension to an extreme, like a fully drawn bowstring, ready to explode at any moment!