Volume 3 - Chapter 372: The Interception - Part 1
Di Linchen had never truly regarded Li Hao as a rival—at most, a peer with some shared interests.
In his mind, only the two Supreme Disciples could match him. Not even the other geniuses of powerful clans—figures like Gui Lingyue or Shen Wuji—were worth his attention. The gap between them was simply too vast.
But now, as he watched Li Hao unleash his power, he couldn’t help but chuckle bitterly. He had misjudged him. The one truly outmatched here… was himself.
On the imperial platform, Li Hao stood calmly, gazing at the power that had frozen time and space. His eyes lifted toward the barrier of the sealing formation overhead, where the Celestial Guard Commander floated in midair. A look of awe mixed with grave seriousness clouded the commander's face.
There was no doubt: the only reason Jianxin still lived was because of external intervention. He hadn’t saved himself.
Which meant, by all rights, Jianxin had lost.
A pity... Li Hao thought. He hadn’t managed to send him into reincarnation. After all, Jianxin had been the first to harbor murderous intent, aiming to kill him in just three moves. Li Hao had merely returned the favor, using the same rules.
Slowly, the frozen flow of time began to loosen, retracting and reversing.
Cracks riddling Jianxin’s primordial spirit healed in an instant, and the Sword Intent from the Five Absolutes Sword Slash was entirely wiped away.
Jianxin survived. His flesh regrew from the mist of blood, and in a blink, his body was restored—like nothing had ever happened.
But the scene remained etched in Jianxin’s mind. He stared blankly at Li Hao, his head buzzing with disbelief and denial.
He had lost? He, Jianxin, had actually lost?!
With his mastery of the Six Segments Sword Dao, he reigned supreme in the True Immortal Realm. He had worked miracles. Even his master had warned him before the tournament to go easy on others, not to injure the geniuses of rival immortal dynasties. The Southern Domain needed talent—those young cultivators were its future pillars.
Yet he had lost.
Three moves. He’d been defeated in two. One lost, one nearly killed.
His master's so-called three-move trial… Jianxin had originally wanted to stop Li Hao from even passing that threshold. But now, it was he who could not make it past.
“What sword was that?!”
Jianxin’s primordial spirit hovered outside his body, unable to return. As clarity returned to his mind, he shouted at Li Hao, eyes blazing with fury and disbelief.
His composure shattered. Emotion surged. He couldn't control himself.
“Imperial Sword,” Li Hao replied coolly.
His expression was indifferent. He gave Jianxin only a passing glance. Power slowly receded from his body, and the Glory Dao Sword in his hand faded into nothingness.
The Heaven-and-Earth Dharma Image behind him also dissolved. With outside forces intervening, the match’s outcome was already clear. It was time to leave—unless the Supreme chose to break his word.
But with so many eyes from the Southern Domain upon them, Li Hao didn’t think the Supreme would stoop so low.
“Imperial Sword?”
Jianxin’s mind thundered. He had clearly sensed it—the terrifying might of that strike. Though its swordsmanship wasn't as refined as his own, it carried a fearsome pressure only an Imperial Sword could wield. More than that, the sword's Dao Origin was woven from five different sources, combining into a singular, unique power.
That kind of force had nullified even his Nine Sequences Origin.
But weren’t all Daos under Heaven born from the Nine Sequences? He too possessed the Dao-Origin Immortal Seal, and had cultivated the Nine Sequences Dao to the fourth level—on par with Li Hao’s cultivation. So why could Li Hao unleash a sword like that, and he could not?
He couldn’t accept it. He refused to believe it. But the truth was there, undeniable.
His heart brimmed with helplessness and seething rage.
“That sword technique… it’s a fusion of five source Daos. Who taught it to you? Your master?!”
Jianxin growled, voice trembling with frustration.
From the moment he was born, he had stood above his peers in sword cultivation. Where other members of his clan needed centuries to comprehend a technique, and even the prodigies required years to master it, he needed only a day—two glances.
He had cultivated since childhood without ever encountering a bottleneck, never once hindered or troubled.
Peerless sword techniques that others struggled to grasp came to him intuitively. He had once wondered why everyone else was so dull—later, he realized it was because he was simply too exceptional.
To him, the sword was everything. He revered it, loved it, obsessed over it.
He had always dreamed of becoming the sovereign of swords, the god of the blade. To cleave open the path of emperors with his sword—to become a Sword Dao Supreme.
And yet today, against an equal, in a pure sword duel… he lost.
His Dao Heart trembled, on the verge of collapse. He could not bear it.
“If all things under Heaven are teachers,” Li Hao said calmly, “then yes—you could call them my master.”
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