Fusang Sword Heart Diagram

Fu Sanyuan watched the two fighting on the stage, his gaze shifting uncertainly.

Yu Qiao then realized that this Senior Brother Fu was still thinking about going to the arena to challenge him to a duel.

There was just one thing he didn't understand.

"Since Senior Brother has seen that Fellow Daoist Shu Guang possesses great potential, why do you still want to challenge him?"

The disciples of Miaokong Sect are not people who enjoy fighting. According to Fu Sanyuan, fighting with others damages one's own destiny.

Fu Sanyuan raised an eyebrow slightly: "Of course I want to borrow some of your luck."

For Fu Sanyuan, destiny is more useful than elixirs. He was eager to see someone with such a strong destiny.

Yu Qiao pondered the word "borrow," his eyes widening slightly as he turned to look at the arena.

Eight of the seventeen purple dragons were killed, and the remaining nine purple thunder dragons, accompanied by the sound of the flute, bared their fangs and claws, and surrounded the girl in the moon-white robe.

Ning Fusang shouted softly, "Slay!"

The giant sword slashed down, and the wind and rain raged.

Qing Chen's expression was cold. He rose again, and a huge halo behind him appeared like a golden crow, illuminating the darkened sky as if it were daytime.

This is a stalemate.

Ning Fusang and Qing Chen fought from afternoon until night. Inside Zhongzhou City, countless lanterns lit up, creating a magnificent and prosperous scene.

The surging wind made their robes flutter loudly.

Beads of sweat had already appeared on Qingchen's beautiful face.

She hadn't expected the other party to be such a formidable opponent!
With the strength of the mid-stage of the eighth realm, he was able to fight me for so long.

The Wanqing Tower, where the immortal sects of Xiyang Chizhou were staying, was unusually deserted. Their arena in Xiyang Chizhou was gone, and some of the immortal sects, feeling it was no longer interesting, had left early.

Tian Jinpeng, the sect leader of the Little Sword Sect who represents Xiyang Chizhou, cannot return early. He sits in Wanqing Tower, his eyes dark and unfathomable.

Looking towards the location of the Miaoyin Sect, the beautiful woman appeared quite ordinary.

Actually, by this point in the game, they already had a good idea of ​​who would win.

There was no curfew in Zhongzhou City, and it became even more lively at night. Some cultivators who had finished their meal at a nearby restaurant returned and, seeing that the arena was still going on, exclaimed in surprise, "They're still fighting!"

"Is this a battle that will last until dawn?"

The girl took a bite of the sugar painting she bought from the street vendor, then slipped into Wanqing Tower and casually sat down on an empty chair.

Tian Jinpeng said in a deep voice, "Cultivators should restrain their appetites. It's one thing to eat some spiritual food, but why do you keep trying the food that ordinary children eat? No wonder your cultivation is not improving!"

The girl showed no fear and scoffed, "I'm only thirteen years old!"

She's not old enough to live a life of simple pleasures all the time!

The girl's eyes sparkled as she tilted her head and asked, "Father, will Nan Chun and Zhou be the champion this time?"

"They still have one person left who hasn't stepped onto the stage yet. I heard that the last person to guard the stage is Young Master Fu Ying..."

Before Tian Mengqing could finish speaking, Tian Jinpeng interrupted her: "Don't get involved with Feng Fuying. Don't you have any idea how Wei Liu and the others died?"

She pouted, "I didn't want to get involved with him anyway." She was only concerned about who would win the championship.

However, the girl's mind started racing when this was brought up. "Father, is the Phoenix Feather Palace really that powerful? Have the Azure Moon Sect and the Dao Talisman Sect really let go of this blood feud? Most importantly, where do they put their pride?"

Blood feuds may be secondary; the reputation of the sect is a major issue.

Tian Mengqing was tired of hearing her father talk about the sect's reputation.

Tian Jinpeng's tone was unclear: "The Qingyue Sect and the Daofu Sect are about to rise to power."

Finally, he glanced at his youngest daughter and said, "Do you know that the Palace Master of Phoenix Feather Palace is now at the half-step Transcendent Realm?" "Faced with absolute power, what can one do if one is unwilling? They know whether to happily accept the compensation from Phoenix Feather Palace or to destroy the sect."

"Moreover, the Phoenix Feather Palace claims that they trespassed into Feng Fuying's secluded cultivation place, and the Phoenix Feather Palace did not retaliate by causing trouble for the Qingyue Sect and the Daofu Sect, which is already more than enough."

Tian Mengqing's eyes widened slightly, and she muttered, "Phoenix Feather Palace is too domineering."

She had absolutely no good feelings towards the Phoenix Feather Palace.

Thirteenth-realm cultivators aren't unique to Phoenix Feather Palace; she'd never seen any other sects with such domineering thirteenth-realm cultivators.

Tian Mengqing's eyes darted around, and she asked curiously, "Father, what is Feng Fuying's identity? Why is Fengling Palace protecting him like this? His surname is Feng, could he be the illegitimate son of the Palace Master of Fengling Palace?"

"I don't know about that." Tian Jinpeng shook his head, feeling that the possibility was unlikely.

Tian Mengqing's gaze passed over the arena and looked towards Shaohua Tower, where Nan Chun and Zhou Xianmen were located.

Is a thirteenth-realm expert like the Palace Master of Phoenix Feather Palace also here? Although the Five Continents Tournament is a grand event that is among the most magnificent in the world, it doesn't seem worthwhile for a thirteenth-realm expert to personally attend, does it?

Her eyes flickered, and she looked away, focusing her gaze on the arena.

Will Sister Qingchen win?

Tian Mengqing definitely hoped that Qingchen would win, she muttered to herself.

The purple thunder dragon relentlessly attacked Ning Fusang, its roars echoing around her ears. A sharp sword cleaved down, tearing the dragon's body apart.

Sweat poured down her chin like rain. Ning Fusang casually wiped her face with her sleeve, her fighting spirit growing stronger in her eyes.

She seemed completely tireless.

Even though Qingchen had cultivated for many years, he couldn't help but admire the other party's resilience and perseverance.

What's infuriating is that she couldn't play the flute properly, so she couldn't extract the other person's memories.

The silver light behind Qing Chen dissipated, and her life force waned. Ning Fusang, however, remained vigilant, her longsword extinguishing the last streak of purple lightning. Qing Chen's icy voice rang out as she chanted an incantation:
"Wonderful sounds resonate throughout the six directions, traversing the eight wastelands, rising with the wind, and flying blades are ever-changing!"

Instantly, countless sound waves, like a massive torrent, surged forth, causing Ning Fusang's blood and qi to churn. She coughed up a mouthful of blood, which stained her robes, and her expression became much clearer.

The light blue sonic blades, like leaves imbued with spiritual energy, shot forth with tremendous force, filling the air with a deafening roar.

Ning Fusang knew that Qing Chen had reached the end of his rope.

She only needs to thwart this all-out attack to win.

"A thousand swords flow like a river!"

With a cold shout, a cold sword shadow slashed out horizontally, and an irresistible force crashed into Qing Chen. Her phoenix eyes opened slightly, and a sharp pain came from her waist and abdomen. Looking down, she saw that she had already fallen outside the arena.

She qualified.

The sky turned a pale white, and a ray of light shone down.

Ning Fusang slowly exhaled a breath of turbid air, feeling that this battle had loosened her cultivation level considerably.

Improving one's cultivation level through constant battles is a common path for cultivators.

Ning Fusang adjusted the Qi mechanism and restored his vitality.

Mo Fengjue of the Mo family and Zong Qingchen of Miaoyin are just some of the people who challenged her in the Five Continents Tournament. The Five Continents Tournament is not over yet, and the arena she has to defend has only just begun.

Ning Fusang glanced at the wooden plaque recording the number of days the champion had defended the title: eighty-eight.

One day short of breaking the Central Plains record. Twelve days short of a full house.

(End of this chapter)