Chapter 30: Qi Hao vs. Qian Mo (2)

Dao Xuan gazed upon the two figures standing atop the arena, nodding in satisfaction, though a flicker of worry stirred within him. Both were the elite among the elite of the Azure Cloud Sect, destined to become pillars of the order in the future. Now, to determine a victor between them—he could not tell if this was a blessing or a curse.

A resounding clang echoed as the bell signaled the start of the match. Instantly, all chatter around the arena ceased, and every gaze converged upon the two figures at its center.

With the contest underway, disciples on the other platforms had already summoned their magical treasures, casting brilliant hues across the field. It was clear that their duels had begun in earnest, each seeking a swift victory so they might come and watch the central battle.

At the heart of the arena, Qian Mo stood with hands clasped behind his back, his expression serene and unhurried. He showed no intention of striking first; to him, defeating one who had previously been sent flying with a single palm held no sense of accomplishment.

Qi Hao’s brow furrowed. Yesterday, he had been careless—there was no way he would have been bested if he had not held back. After a moment’s thought, his face darkened as he muttered inwardly, “This boy is unbearably arrogant, daring to let me strike first. Very well, then. As you wish, I’ll show you my full strength.”

Qi Hao looked deeply at Qian Mo, fully aware of his cunning. In just three years since joining the Azure Cloud Sect, this youth’s cultivation had grown formidable. Their grievances had already been forged—he must not allow Qian Mo to continue growing, or the consequences would be dire.

“Junior Brother Qian Mo, you have tripped me up time and again and crippled two disciples of Dragon Head Peak. As their senior, I must seek justice for them. For the sake of our brotherhood, I will allow you three moves. After three moves, mercy will be set aside, and fate shall decide life or death!”

With these words, Qi Hao folded his hands behind his back, his tone calm, his face expressionless—embodying the image of a refined gentleman.

On the high platform, the heads of each division remained unmoved. They desired rivalry among their disciples, for only through such competition could the best rise above the rest. As for Qi Hao’s use of certain tricks or minor schemes, as long as no one’s life was endangered, they would turn a blind eye.

“Senior Brother Qi Hao’s magnanimity is worthy of Dragon Head Peak’s chief.”

“Senior Brother, you must avenge Brother Sun!”

“Yes, let him taste the might of Dragon Head Peak.”

Qian Mo’s lips curled in a faint smirk. What eloquence—just a few words and he had washed his hands clean of all wrongdoing. In truth, it was Qi Hao who had coveted Tian Ling’er’s beauty, and after Qian Mo had ruined his plans, Qi Hao resorted to covert revenge during the Seven Peaks Tournament, even plotting to cripple him with force. A sanctimonious hypocrite, indeed.

Qian Mo sneered, “An ant sent flying by my palm dares to be so arrogant? No need for your charity, Senior Brother Qi. If you wish to defeat me, I fear your cultivation is far from enough.”

Arrogant! The word had barely left his lips when a collective gasp swept through the surrounding disciples. Almost every member of the Azure Cloud Sect looked at Qian Mo as if he were a fool.

The division heads on the platform exchanged glances, their eyes resting on Dao Xuan as if to say, “Has your disciple gone too far? Yesterday’s bout wasn’t Qi Hao’s true strength. He’s only been here a few years—such arrogance is surely unwise.”

Dao Xuan noticed their gaze and snorted coldly. “The match has just begun; the outcome is far from clear. My disciple does not speak idly.”

Truth be told, Dao Xuan also found it odd. Qian Mo had always kept a low profile, never competing for status among the disciples. Why was he so uncharacteristic today? Had he grown overconfident?

Amid the scornful jeers from the crowd, Lu Xueqi seemed oblivious. Her beautiful eyes fixed on Qian Mo, brimming with confidence. Only she knew that he was not arrogant, but truly possessed the strength to disdain Qi Hao. She recalled how, even when she summoned all her might to draw the Celestial Sword, Qian Mo had suffered no harm—not because he could not resist, but because he chose not to.

Shuiyue sensed Lu Xueqi’s gaze and, watching the proud young man on stage, began to look forward to the match.

“These disciples from Tongtian Peak are truly ignorant—Senior Brother Qi Hao’s forbearance is a great honor to him...”

“Shh, speak softly! Trouble starts with the tongue. The Sect Master is right there—do you value your life so little?”

“Is he mad? He’s only been with the Azure Cloud Sect a few years and already thinks he can reach the heavens. I’ve seen many such conceited fools—all of them are dead now.”

Qi Hao heard the insults swirling around him and felt a surge of satisfaction. A glint of malice flickered in his eyes, though his face remained impassive. “Since that is your wish, Junior Brother Qian Mo, you’d better be careful.”

As soon as he finished speaking, Qi Hao let out a low cry and summoned his immortal sword. An ice-blue blade materialized in his hand.

The Frost Sword!

Forged from millennia-old ice crystals, the sword’s silvery body radiated chilling power. Its synergy with his ice-based immortal arts was perfect, allowing him to conjure walls of frost—one reason why ice techniques and treasures were so prevalent among the disciples of Dragon Head Peak.

Gripping the Frost Sword, Qi Hao formed a spell seal and recited incantations under his breath. Instantly, the sword exuded an intense cold, and a layer of frost spread across the arena beneath their feet.

Crackling, splintering sounds filled the air as the ice crept outward, sheathing the entire arena in a shimmering veneer before halting at its edge.

With a single move, Qi Hao sent a chill through all nearby disciples. The elite among them turned pale—his cultivation had improved dramatically since the previous Seven Peaks Tournament.

A masterful technique—by encasing the arena in ice, Qi Hao claimed both advantage and initiative.

“Excellent... Very impressive. Brother Cang Song has indeed trained a fine disciple,” Master Cao Feng observed, his eyes full of praise. “Nephew Qi’s move displays exquisite skill. His cultivation has reached the ninth level of the Jade Pure Realm—he’ll soon enter the Dao proper. Such talent at so young an age—his future is limitless.”

Cang Song’s face blossomed with pride, though he remained modest. “Qi Hao is diligent in his training—more so than I expected.”

Qi Hao’s cultivation truly surpassed his performance at the last Seven Peaks Tournament; he had already trained the Supreme Celestial Way to the ninth level of the Jade Pure Realm—a feat that exceeded all expectations.

Yet Dao Xuan’s heart remained as calm as ever. Qian Mo’s prodigious physique and extraordinary talent were unrivaled. He had already reached the eighth level of the Jade Pure Realm a year ago—who could say what breakthroughs he had achieved since then?

In hindsight, allowing him to participate in this Seven Peaks Tournament was undoubtedly the right choice.

Dao Xuan’s gaze was fixed on the arena. The enmity between the two was evident; beneath Qi Hao’s calm demeanor lurked lethal intent. He must remain vigilant at all times.

Should any harm befall Qian Mo, it would be an immeasurable loss not only to the Azure Cloud Sect, but especially to his own Tongtian Peak.

Yet, now that he knew the true extent of Qian Mo’s formidable constitution and talent, Dao Xuan harbored no more such fears. He only wanted to quietly watch as his disciple humbled Qi Hao before them all.