Chapter 130: Chapter 130

The Sea-Soul Scale Armor!

This inner armor, forged from deep-sea treasure-beast scales fused with refined gold, was crafted from no ordinary materials.

SHRRK!

The instant the sword struck, a blinding burst of white erupted from the scale-mail.

Cold Granary and the armor ground together with a sustained, sizzling hiss. The blade plowed a furrow across the surface — scales popping loose, exposing the lining beneath.

A flash of killing intent crossed Shen Xiuhan’s eyes.

The sword-tip trembled.

The sword gleam he had kept hidden until now strained at the edge, yearning to erupt.

If he let it loose, it would punch straight through the armor and Luo Qiance’s heart along with it.

Luo Qiance’s scalp erupted in needles. Gooseflesh rippled across every inch of his body. The icy breath of death hit him full in the face, scattering his pupils, locking him in place.

At the razor’s edge —

Shen Xiuhan pulled back. The killing intent in his eyes shuttered, and he choked it down.

‘Enough. Kill him, and there’s no cleaning it up.’

A flick of the wrist — stab became shove — and a tide of Manifest Strength surged through the blade and into Luo Qiance’s chest.

“AGHH!!”

Luo Qiance sprayed a cloud of blood, shrieking, and was hurled from the platform.

BANG!

CRASH!

His body traced an arc through the air and landed — dead-center — in the Luo clan’s seating area.

Chairs, teacups, fruit-plates — all smashed to the ground in a spray of wreckage.

Luo Qiance fought through the agony, teeth locked, rolling from his back onto his hands and knees. He tried to push himself upright.

But the internal damage was catastrophic. Every ounce of strength had been wrung out. His arms buckled, and he collapsed back into the debris.

“Urgh…”

His body convulsed. Several great mouthfuls of blood followed in succession.

SWISH!

A Luo clan Hidden Strength fighter materialized, face like iron.

He propped Luo Qiance up, crammed a pill between his teeth, pressed a palm to his back, and pumped medicinal force through him. At the same time, two fingers jabbed a lightning circuit of acupoints across his torso.

Only then did Luo Qiance’s color ease — fractionally.

Under the anxious gazes of the Luo clan retainers, the Hidden Strength fighter dropped a single, clipped verdict.

“His life is not in danger. But his organs have shifted and his meridians are torn. The internal injuries are severe. Without a year to eighteen months, there’ll be no recovery.”

With that, he shouldered Luo Qiance and vanished in a few leaping bounds.

On the platform.

Shen Xiuhan turned his wrist with a slow, unhurried flourish. Cold Granary’s tip dipped. A single bead of blood slid down the edge and fell at his feet.

Silence.

After a long, breathless pause, the noise erupted — a volcanic roar that swallowed the entire lakeshore.

“He won! Senior Brother Shen won! Ha ha ha!”

“Brilliantly fought, Junior Brother Shen!”

“Fists and feet both supreme — and now this sword? Terrifying! With talent like that, if not for his age, he might even give Xiao Wu a run for his money!”

“Exactly! This Shen Xiuhan is six or seven years younger than Xiao Wu, Wang Xuanyang, and the rest. Put them at the same age, and who’d be number one in the younger generation of Changyun? That’s anyone’s guess!”

Every gaze — commoner, fighter, and wandering swordsman alike — converged on the blue-robed figure, alight with awe.

At the same time, Wang Youjun’s call thundered across the grounds.

“Manifest Strength bracket — Mei Hall, Shen Xiuhan, victor!”

A beat’s pause, and his voice took on a weight of ceremony.

“Shen Xiuhan — undefeated throughout the tournament. He has secured a place in the top three and earned entry to the Dragon Blood Essence Pool for three days of cultivation!”

The Mei Hall disciples’ cheers surged higher still, as though they could crack the sky.

…

“Well done, Brother Shen!”

Not far away, Xiao Wu stood on a low rise, clapping and laughing.

Beside him stood Xiao Wen, Luo Tangyin, Song Huatang, and — hands clasped behind his back, so unremarkable as to nearly vanish — Han Li, in a plain blue robe.

“Senior Brother Shen’s swordplay is incredible!”

Xiao Wen’s eyes shone with excitement. “Big Brother, I want to learn the sword too…”

“Learn my ass! Stop chasing every shiny thing!”

Xiao Wu glared at him.

“First get your body in shape and break through to Bone Tempering — then we’ll talk!”

“Oh…”

Xiao Wen deflated.

Nearby, Luo Tangyin’s expression was solemn, her gaze slightly distant.

The scenes that had just played out were seared into her mind.

‘His strength is staggering. In a fight to the death, even I… might not be able to say with certainty that I’d come out on top.’

At her side, Ding Qing was twisting the hem of her sleeve, barely containing her excitement.

But mindful that Luo Tangyin might take offense, she fought to push the corners of her mouth downward.

After all…

The winner was her junior brother.

The one beaten like a dead dog was Luo Tangyin’s younger brother.

So Ding Qing kept her eyes fixed forward, face carefully blank, the very picture of composure.

…

On the viewing platform.

Ji Shuying’s chest rose and fell. A flush colored her elegant features. She seized Mei Shuangfeng’s hand and spoke in a voice that trembled.

“Shuang-jun — Little Six won! Did you see? In so short a time, he’s grown this far!”

Mei Shuangfeng let out a long, slow breath. “I saw.”

She watched the figure descending from the stage, and her eyes filled with a bittersweet ache.

The boy who had once walked on eggshells, holding a treasure fish above his head, falling to his knees and begging her to take him in — that felt like only yesterday.

And now, before she could blink, he had grown into a towering tree. Even a direct-line Luo scion trained by the Fury-Sea School had been struck from the platform under his blade.

A faint mist gathered at the rims of Mei Shuangfeng’s eyes. She murmured.

“If Luoyun were still alive… he’d be about Xiuhan’s level by now.”

Ji Shuying started.

Then, wordlessly, she tightened her grip on Mei Shuangfeng’s hand.

Neither spoke for a time.

In the front row, the four grand chairs told a different story.

“Ha ha ha ha!”

Zhao Zheng’s laugh was vast and unrestrained. He turned to the man beside him.

“County Magistrate Luo — it would seem this second round is another small win for me.”

“The Colonel is indeed fortunate…”

Luo Changming’s cheek twitched. His tone was measured.

“Rest assured — this official gave his word, and he will keep it.”

“Splendid!”

Zhao Zheng slapped his thigh, his grin wider than ever.

“My earlier promise stands as well. Send your man to my camp whenever you’re ready.”

Luo Changming’s expression softened a fraction. He gave a slight nod.

But before long, his gaze drifted back to Shen Xiuhan.

‘Shen Xiuhan!’

‘Bone-age still green, yet cultivation absurdly high. Tyrannical fists, a movement art, and now a Flowing Cloud Sword practiced to a level that defies reason. Talent, temperament — both of the highest order.’

Admiration stirred behind Luo Changming’s eyes — then slowly froze over.

‘A pity that a blade this sharp sits in the Ji clan’s hands.’

‘The Ji trading houses and fleet are the biggest obstacle to our Luo clan’s dominance of Yunshui Lake. If this boy can’t be turned to our side…’

A thread of cold, lethal intent flickered through Luo Changming’s gaze and vanished.

‘Then he cannot be left alive.’

Just then —

A tidal wave of gasps crashed across the grounds, deafening as a thunderclap.

“What’s that?!”

“Good lord — that white light… could it be…?”

Luo Changming’s brow furrowed.

Beside him, the other three Transforming Strength masters’ expressions shifted.

All four turned as one, following the sound.