Chapter Ten: The Second Divine Martial Tournament, Section Fifteen: The Immortal Marquis Xin

Section 15: The Immortal Marquis Xin

Bu Jingxian had once heard Ling Luo mention that the blueprint for the Divine Art technique was actually inspired by the ancient Wudang sect's internal cultivation manuals. The current Northern Wudang sect’s techniques had been modified from these ancient human methods, sacrificing many of their functions in favor of excessive lethality. The Divine Art created by the Old Man of the North Spirit was inherently superior to the ancient Northern Wudang methods; therefore, it was no surprise that the Northern Wudang sect’s current techniques were no match for it.

"That is only if Junior Sister Yue Fei possesses the internal strength and skill to apply the counter-measures taught by Master in actual combat," Chu Gaoge said, gazing enviously at Yue Fei, who hovered above the arena. He sighed, lamenting that such a master was hidden within the Divine Art Sect.

King Zheng watched Yue Fei floating in mid-air, growing more impressed by the moment. "I had no idea that Marquis Xin had such an ethereal, immortal-like figure by his side."

"You flatter us, Your Majesty. Junior Sister Yue Fei practices diligently and rarely travels. Although she has visited the Imperial Palace twice, she never had the honor of meeting you."

"Oh... I see. And what is her relation to General Yue?"

"Reporting to Your Majesty, Junior Sister Yue Fei is the apple of General Yue’s eye."

"Hahaha... Excellent! What a fine daughter the great General Yue has produced, truly like an immortal maiden." King Zheng then turned to the Crown Prince and asked, "What does the Crown Prince think of Yue Fei?"

The Crown Prince hurriedly replied, "She is like a celestial being descended to earth!"

"Good, very good." King Zheng was visibly delighted.

Everyone present speculated that the King intended to bestow a marriage, and all felt it would be a perfect union. In terms of appearance, martial arts, and family background, Yue Fei was worthy of the Crown Prince. Although the Zheng Crown Prince was not as outstanding in martial prowess as Chu Gaoge, he had no negative rumors and had assisted the King in state affairs for years without a single error.

The Northern Wudang sect sent up three more masters in succession, but all were defeated by Yue Fei using the same techniques. Eight giant yellow-light stones rained down almost simultaneously, interspersed with spirit-energy orbs circling her body. The swift and dense barrage of attacks was more than the Northern Wudang masters could withstand.

Having lost four consecutive masters, the Northern Wudang sect was thoroughly humiliated in front of the heroes of the world.

Just as others were about to step up, the Sect Master of Northern Wudang, Ye Feiluo—known as the Sword Saint of Eastern Yan—flew onto the arena himself.

This shocked everyone. By entering now, he was effectively giving up his chance to compete for the title of Martial Sovereign, and it would even be difficult for him to remain among the top ten masters.

"The internal arts of the Northern Spirit Mountain’s Divine Art Sect are indeed brilliant. I, this Sect Master, wish to request your guidance!" Ye Feiluo did not announce his name; he did not need to.

Most of those who had been cheering for Yue Fei fell silent, leaving only a few wandering martial artists to shout, "What a shameless Northern Wudang Sect Master, bullying the young! A dignified sect leader, over twenty years her senior, actually stooping to bully a junior!"

Through their Divine Eyes, Bu Jingxian and the others saw that Ye Feiluo’s physical fitness was 1000, internal power 4600, Spirit 10, and Soul 8. His combat power was 11,200, with an absolute combat power of 89,600. They all knew the gap in Yue Fei’s power was too vast; she was no match for him.

Yue Fei, hovering above the arena, also realized she was outmatched. As she hesitated, Ling Luo stood up, cast off his yellow-brocade dragon-patterned robe, and said with a frosty expression, "Since the Northern Wudang sect is determined to make things difficult for my Divine Sect today, as the Sect Master, I shall accompany you!"

As he spoke, he channeled his energy, and the white light around his body intensified. Like a gust of wind, he flew straight from the pavilion, stopping directly in front of Yue Fei on the arena.

In the Divine Eyes, Ling Luo’s physical fitness was 100, internal power 5500 (1100 base internal power from the tenth level of the Divine Art, plus 100% from the Essence-Internal talent, 200% from the Spirit-Affinity talent, and 100% from the tenth-level Divine Art special effect), Spirit 10, and Soul 7. His combat power was 11,200, with an absolute combat power of 78,400.

"Junior sister, step back. Since Sect Master Ye is so interested in our sect’s martial arts, I shall personally entertain him!"

"Yes!" Yue Fei flew off the arena, landing gracefully, and stood quietly with the other disciples to watch the battle.

Ling Luo did not refer to himself by his title of Marquis, intending to frame this strictly as a dispute between martial sects. He was clearly annoyed by the Northern Wudang sect’s relentless aggression.

"Good! To be able to fight the Marquis Xin of Zheng and the Sect Master of the Divine Sect today, this journey has not been in vain!" Ye Feiluo bowed and drew his sword. When the bladeless treasure sword left its scabbard, it shimmered with a faint, precious light. Everyone knew that what he held was the ancestral treasure sword of the human Wudang sect, originally named True Martial, now called the Northern Wudang Sword.

As he channeled his internal power, the energy radiating from his body formed a cyan flame, surging upward and spreading to a diameter of ten zhang! The flames rose even higher than the three-zhang height at which Ling Luo hovered.

Following this, under the gaze of the crowd, Ye Feiluo’s body slowly lifted off the ground, suspended three zhang in the air.

Such a display of power drew a roar of cheers from the masters watching.

Before the cheers could die down, a brilliant white light exploded from Ling Luo, accompanied by a swirling vortex of white light within a fifteen-zhang radius centered on him. The onlookers could hear nothing but the whistling roar of the vortex. Ling Luo himself was no longer visible, completely swallowed by the blinding white light.

Suddenly, a thunderous boom erupted from within the colored white vortex, shaking the very earth. Then came a continuous series of crackling sounds, with flickers of purple, blue, and white lightning dancing within.

If Ling Luo had previously seemed like a mortal immortal, everyone now felt this was—the Wrath of the Immortal!

Compared to him, Ye Feiluo’s power seemed like that of a novice halfway to immortality facing a celestial being with boundless magical power!

"Brother, how can he still be a mortal—" Chu Gaoge sighed in wonder, then turned to the stunned King Zheng and said, "I implore you, Your Majesty, to bestow upon my eldest brother, Ling Luo, the title of 'Immortal Marquis Xin' to match his divine power."

King Zheng snapped back to reality, his eyes filled with the same astonishment and disbelief as the others. He felt that the changes in the air were the stuff of mythological spells, not mortal martial arts. Upon hearing Chu Gaoge’s request, he slapped the table in approval.

"Crown Prince Chu’s suggestion could not be better! Immortal Marquis Xin—the Marquis is truly worthy of the name; he deserves it!"

The princes and princesses were all stunned by the scene and chimed in, "Father is wise! The Marquis is worthy of the name Immortal Marquis Xin!"

King Zheng joyfully shouted, "Before the heroes of the world, I hereby bestow upon Marquis Xin, Ling Luo, the title of Immortal Marquis Xin! To have the Immortal Marquis Xin in the State of Zheng is a sign of Heaven’s favor!"

The soldiers and martial practitioners of Zheng knelt and hailed him. King Zheng was overwhelmed with joy and accepted the cries of "Long live" until he suddenly remembered the presence of the Zhou Emperor and lowered his laughter.

"Your Majesty, what do you think of this bestowal?"

Ao Pan had not thought of anything else; he was simply awestruck by Ling Luo’s presence, feeling that this Marquis was surely an immortal descended to earth, not a mortal! When asked by the King, the Zhou Emperor immediately replied, "The Immortal Marquis Xin is well-deserved, well-deserved indeed."

The three-colored lightning crackling within the white vortex suddenly intensified, lunging toward Ye Feiluo and swallowing him along with the pale flames of his internal energy.

The bystanders could not see the battle; they heard only the howling wind and saw only the massive white light and the flashes of lightning.

In an instant, Ye Feiluo was thrown from the white light, landing on the ground and stumbling back three steps before steadying himself. Just as he struggled to stand, a powerful wind swirled beneath his feet, and despite his attempts to resist, he was lifted straight into the air.

The white energy storm hovering above the arena suddenly vanished. Ling Luo was covered in a faint white radiance; Bu Jingxian knew Ling Luo had secured victory and had stopped channeling his power.

Ling Luo swung his right palm, creating a giant white sword aura twenty zhang long. A second aura followed, intersecting the first in a cross shape, accelerating as they struck toward the wind-tossed Ye Feiluo.

The Northern Wudang Sect Master channeled all his power, but having been wounded by Ling Luo’s internal energy, he had only three hundred points of internal power left and could not break free from the vortex. He was struck squarely by the rotating cross-shaped sword aura. The Northern Wudang sect's internal art was indeed brilliant, as he was not wounded, but the force of the aura sent him flying backward through the air.

Chu Gaoge exclaimed, "This must be the second move of the Sword of the Gods!"

Thinking Ling Luo only intended to knock the Sect Master off the arena, no one expected him to pull his palm back, the white light glowing brighter. With a fierce forward strike, a giant white sword-shaped aura, one zhang wide and a foot thick, erupted from his palm. It shot toward Ye Feiluo’s chest at incredible speed, reaching a length of eight zhang!

Bu Jingxian and Chu Gaoge saw through their Divine Eyes that Ling Luo had expended three thousand points of internal power on this strike; it was clearly a lethal technique of the Divine Sect.

Upon contact with the giant sword aura, Ye Feiluo instantly lost one point of Soul energy. He did indeed know how to channel Soul energy, and the sudden eruption of energy dissipated the cross-shaped aura, but the giant sword aura remained unaffected. As if piercing through Ye Feiluo’s body, it rapidly shortened. In the Divine Eyes, Ye Feiluo’s Soul count plummeted as the giant sword diminished.

Ling Luo ceased his technique and landed on the arena, waiting for his internal power to recover.

To Bu Jingxian, the recovery rate of the Divine Art’s internal power was as fast as the physical recovery of the Soul Art. However, Ling Luo lacked the color-light talent on his meridians, so his recovery speed could not match Bu Jingxian’s.

Ye Feiluo was carried by the giant sword aura until he landed outside the arena, his feet sinking into the stone floor until his legs were buried halfway up. As his Soul count reached zero, the last of the giant sword pierced through his chest.

In the Divine Eyes, Ye Feiluo’s internal power was exhausted, his physical fitness was at 100, and he had no Soul energy left.

The power of that sword was terrifying, and Ling Luo’s precision in applying his strength was even more so.

Ye Feiluo’s legs trembled as he barely managed to stand. When several Northern Wudang masters rushed to support him, he vomited blood and could not speak. Suddenly, a burst of white energy erupted from within him, killing the four disciples supporting him on the spot! Ye Feiluo’s meridians shattered, and he collapsed, half his body slumped on the ground and the other half still buried in the stone.

The onlookers were horrified.

The masters of the Northern Wudang sect were filled with hatred and grief, crying out and cursing Ling Luo for his ruthlessness.

Ling Luo stood on the arena, feeling a heavy heart. He had seen the deaths of those men just as he had calculated, and witnessed the agonizing wails of the disciples. He empathized with them, remembering the scene of his own master passing away. However, he was a Marquis—the Marquis of Zheng. The Northern Wudang sect was the pillar of the State of Yan. With war looming, every master of the Northern Wudang sect left alive would mean the deaths of countless Zheng soldiers on and off the battlefield.