Chapter Fourteen: A Friendly Match

Crossing the courtyard paved with bluestone slabs, Luo Lingxi entered the main hall of Azure Cloud Sect. The furnishings inside bore the unmistakable mark of a small sect—plain and unadorned. A landscape painting in the style of ink wash hung on the wall at the front. Beneath the painting stood a grand armchair, on which sat a tall man of striking and heroic appearance.

She surveyed the room carefully.

Bai Yujing, too, was sizing up Luo Lingxi as she entered.

She was dressed in a purple uniform, its tailored cut perfectly accentuating her graceful curves. The buttons across her chest were taut, trembling slightly with her breathing, emphasizing her presence. She was tall—standing beside Liu Shuangling, she appeared not a bit shorter, which meant she must be around one meter seventy-six.

Who is this person?

Bai Yujing, who rarely watched television or short videos, had no idea who this celebrity of Shanghai was.

Holding a steaming kettle, Diya looked surprised. “Sister Luo, what brings you here?”

“I was worried about you, so I came to see how you’ve been getting on here,” Luo Lingxi replied, her heart slightly conflicted.

By nature, she wished harm on no one. Yet, if Diya was not faring well, it would give her ample reason to take the girl back to the Purple Firmament Sword Sect.

Diya was tempted to say that life here was dreadful, that she was constantly oppressed by the “Great Demon King.” But considering the strength of the person before her, she instead answered seriously, “Sister Luo, I’m doing quite well here. There’s no need for concern. This is our sect leader. He may look young, but his strength is anything but lacking.”

Bai Yujing remained seated in the grand armchair, making no move to rise in greeting. To him, this guest had already shown discourtesy by entering and ignoring his presence, choosing instead to converse with Diya. The rules of Azure Cloud Sect were simple: courtesy for courtesy. Since she was so indifferent, he felt no need to be overly welcoming.

When Luo Lingxi heard Diya praise Bai Yujing’s strength, her eyes lit up. She’d been wracking her brain for an appropriate excuse to take Diya away—wasn’t this a golden opportunity? If she could defeat Sect Leader Bai in a friendly match, she could tactfully request to take Diya under her own tutelage, and the other party would surely yield.

“I have long heard of Sect Leader Bai’s name,” she said with feigned ease, though her voice carried a trace of stiffness. “Meeting you today, I see you are indeed extraordinary. Why don’t we have a friendly spar?”

She regretted it as soon as the words left her lips. Such heavy-handedness was not in her nature. Yet, thinking of Diya’s talent being buried in this small sect, she hardened her resolve, determined to compensate Azure Cloud Sect generously afterward.

Bai Yujing rose. “As it happens, I could use the exercise myself.”

Spiritual pressure poured from him into the ground. Luo Lingxi felt the floor beneath her feet begin to warp, the surroundings rippling like water disturbed by a stone.

Under the influence of the scriptural incantations, the hall’s space stretched and bent, tables and chairs shoved far away by invisible force. In an instant, they seemed to stand upon a vast prairie.

This display of advanced, mixed incantations made Luo Lingxi’s eyes shine with praise. “Sect Leader Bai, your mastery of incantations is impressive.”

“Incantations are my weakest art,” Bai Yujing replied evenly, his hands folded inside his sleeves. “Please, proceed.”

Luo Lingxi glanced at the famous sword at his waist, puzzled. “You’re not going to release your sword?”

“No need.”

His answer took her by surprise. Since her rise to fame, she hadn’t encountered such arrogance in ages. He actually intended to face her without even drawing his sword.

Typical of a small sect, she thought—so narrow in vision. Very well, today she would show this “frog at the bottom of a well” just how vast the world could be.

With a backward step, Luo Lingxi retreated a hundred meters, her voice light as a feather. “If that’s your wish, Sect Leader Bai, then I shall not hold back.”

She drew her sword, holding it upright before her chest, and intoned, “Bankai—Return to the Abyss of the Dark Sea!”

Her hand released the hilt.

Instead of falling, the sword soared upward, vanishing into a mass of dark clouds. Instantly, the black clouds spun, swelling hundreds of times in size. In just a few revolutions, the entire space of the hall was shrouded beneath them.

Darkness fell across the ground.

Amid the crackle and snap, a rain of inky green light began to pour down from above.

The sound of rain roared in their ears.

Diya and Liu Shuangling, standing together, were untouched by the strange rain. The inky green droplets curved away from them, forming a circle on the ground.

Liu Shuangling reached her right hand beyond the boundary.

The rain touched her hand, and she immediately felt her spiritual pressure being drained at a terrifying speed.

Her knees buckled.

Diya quickly grabbed her shoulder and yanked her back, pulling her away from the rain’s draining touch.

But her legs still felt weak, unable to support her. The moment Diya let go, she collapsed to the floor, her chest heaving, the softness threatening to spill from her collar.

“So this is the power of the Rain Mistress?” Liu Shuangling murmured. She had only extended her hand outside the protective circle for a single second, yet all her spiritual pressure had been sucked away.

“Sister Luo is known as the Rain Mistress for a reason. Her Bankai, ‘Return to the Abyss of the Dark Sea,’ transforms her spiritual pressure into falling rain. Anyone touched by it will have their spiritual power absorbed. Three years ago, when the Two-Tailed Fiend appeared in Shanghai, it was driven off by her Bankai.”

“She’s truly formidable,” Liu Shuangling said with genuine admiration.

Most fiends had no tails at all.

When a fiend had one tail, it meant it possessed the power of a ninth-rank spiritual master. Two tails meant a strength surpassing even that. In the history of the Xia Kingdom, the fiend with the highest number of tails was the Seven-Tailed Qiongqi, which destroyed six cities and claimed millions of lives. The man who sealed that seven-tailed fiend was granted the title of Human Sovereign and became a leading candidate for the kingdom’s strongest spiritual master.

“Do you think our sect leader will be drained dry by that rain of light?” Liu Shuangling asked, gazing curiously at the curtain of inky green rain.

Diya shrugged, offering no answer.

This was already beyond her experience.

...

The inky green light rain exploded across the ground, sending up countless tiny splashes.

Luo Lingxi strolled through the downpour, her purple uniform soaked and clinging to her figure, tracing every exquisite line. But she had no time to care for such things. All her attention was focused on sensing Bai Yujing’s spiritual pressure.

“How strange,” she murmured.

Through the rain, she could clearly pinpoint Bai Yujing’s position. The man had not moved at all, simply standing there, letting the rain pour down on him without budging an inch.

If his spiritual pressure had been drained to the point of immobility, it didn’t seem so. His aura was even stronger than she had expected.

She had never encountered such endurance in a man before.

To stand so long in her rain, letting her draw on his energy, and not feel weak in the knees at all.

But even the firmest of men would falter eventually.

Luo Lingxi was in no hurry to strike, choosing instead to keep draining his spiritual power.

“Is that the extent of your Bankai?” Bai Yujing called out.

There was no answer, only the ceaseless fall of rain.

Luo Lingxi’s spiritual pressure filled the space in all directions. Locking onto her by aura alone was impossible—and unnecessary.

Bai Yujing chose to unleash a wide-area attack, covering the entire space.

He raised his hand and chanted in a loud voice, “Shatter, fetters of rusted time—let the fractured mirror’s abyss reflect the end of all things.”

At the very first words, Luo Lingxi’s expression changed slightly; she recognized the language of this incantation.

Sequence number one hundred and nineteen—the Vortex of Nether Pacts, a forbidden spell.

“The wheel of return grinds the spiral of causality; the tide of the world’s end is swallowed in the abyss of everlasting silence.”