I Have the Martial Arts Heavenly Eye in the Storm Riders

The emperor remained calm, walking with the stride of a dragon and the gait of a tiger, without pausing for a moment.

But only Yue Xin, who was walking beside him, saw it—His Majesty's hand, clenched in his sleeve, had knuckles that had turned white.

A commotion broke out in the crowd. Several seasoned veterans exchanged glances and huddled together, whispering amongst themselves.

"Have you noticed... several hundred Imperial Guards have arrived."

"What's a few hundred people?"

"Are you stupid? - those who came up are just the vanguard! The real force is down below! I just came up from the south slope and saw it with my own eyes. The entire mountain is covered with soldiers, at least 100,000! Mount Tai is surrounded like an iron barrel; not even a bird can fly out!"

As soon as these words spread, many people's expressions changed instantly.

The emperor walked to the center of the arena, his dragon eyes sweeping over the high platform, his brows furrowing slightly—

What a grand display!

But of all the chairs on the stage, not one was reserved for him.

"Insolence!!" Yue Xin exploded on the spot, his angry roar causing several martial artists around him to stagger backward.

"The Heavenly Emperor has no respect for the Emperor! Who gave him the audacity to do this?!"

The emperor slightly raised his hand, stopping him.

A cold smile curled at the corner of his lips as he glanced at the empty platform.

"It's alright."

As soon as he finished speaking, several imperial guards moved with lightning speed, carrying out a pure gold, nine-dragon throne carved with dragons and phoenixes from behind.

With a "thud," it was shoved directly in front of the platform.

The emperor waved his sleeve and sat down calmly.

Yue Xin and Shi Dingtian stood side by side, like two vajras on one side of the throne.

Eunuch Wang stood silently on the other side, his black whisk tucked into his arm, his eyes lowered.

This sudden turn of events left the assembled heroes bewildered, and the atmosphere became subtly tense.

however--

The sun gradually climbed to its zenith, and the scorching sunlight shone down directly.

The platform remained empty.

Duan Lang, the master of Tianwaitian, has yet to appear.

"What's Duan Lang up to? Wasn't he the one who invited them? Why didn't he come himself?"

"That's right! He's just leaving us all here to dry in the sun, who does he think he is?"

"Could it be that they're scared? Too afraid to show their face?"

The crowd began to stir, their chatter buzzing like flies.

Not to mention the minor sects, even some local tyrants couldn't save face and kept looking back.

The emperor alone sat upright on his golden dragon throne, his eyes slightly closed, his expression revealing neither joy nor anger.

His fingers tapped lightly on the armrest, as if he were pondering something.

The mountain wind howled, and undercurrents surged.

Before the storm even begins, the danger is already brewing.

"Don't cry, Death God, Bu Jingyun is here!"

A long roar exploded out, like a thunderbolt striking everyone's head.

The clamor in the room was instantly silenced.

At the end of the mountain path, a biting chill swept through like a whirlwind.

Two figures strode into the arena, braving the cold wind.

The leading man wore a dark cloak, his face as cold and stern as ice, his eyes as deep as pools, and he exuded a suffocating aura of murderous intent.

Beside him, a handsome young man followed closely behind, his steps steady and his eyes fixed straight ahead.

"Bu Jingyun!! It's Bu Jingyun!!"

"After disappearing for over a decade, this fearsome figure has resurfaced!!"

"The clouds have all arrived, but where's the wind? Will Nie Feng come too?"

The crowd erupted in chaos.

Countless gazes were fixed on the figure in black, some filled with amazement, some with fear, and some with excitement—

More than anything, they subconsciously took a step back.

Qian Zhen's smile vanished, his gaze fixed on Bu Jingyun like a nail, and the corners of his mouth turned down slightly.

Qingyuan stopped fanning himself, his smile faded slightly, and he lowered his voice to say:

"This fiend... is not someone to be trifled with."

The Sword Emperor's eyes lit up, and he leaned forward, whispering to the Pig Emperor:

"Heh, this kid's got a lot of killing intent... He's a bit like me back in the day."

Before the crowd could recover, another clear and melodious voice rang out:

"A legend in the martial arts world, named Wuming—!"

The moment those four words were uttered, the entire room fell silent.

Even the emperor, who sat on the golden dragon throne with his eyes slightly closed, couldn't help but open them, a strange light flashing in his eyes.

A man in a blue robe walked slowly towards them.

With a detached demeanor and unhurried gait, he stood out from the tense atmosphere around him—like a drifting cloud entering a battlefield.

But wherever he went, the heroes stood up in unison. Some clasped their hands in greeting, some bowed, and some simply made way for him—no one dared to block him, no one dared to argue, and no one even dared to breathe loudly.

"Heavens... even the nameless senior has come!?"

"Just who is Tianwaitian? They were able to persuade this reclusive martial arts legend to join them!"

Wuming, with a calm expression, led Guihu and Asong directly to Bu Jingyun's side and nodded slightly.

Bu Jingyun nodded slightly. There were no further pleasantries between them; everything was understood without words.

Just then—

A lonely and desolate sword intent rose up from behind the crowd without warning.

Completely different from the grand and majestic style of Central Plains martial arts, this sword intent exudes an extreme sharpness and decisiveness, as if it wishes to cleave the heavens and earth in two with a single stroke.

Everyone turned around in shock.

A swordsman dressed in Japanese attire, carrying a long sword, walked alone.

His face was weathered, and his temples were streaked with white—as if he had been severely worn down by the years.

But his eyes were frighteningly bright.

His obsession and fervor for the way of the sword burned brighter than the blazing sun overhead, making it impossible for anyone to look directly at him.

The greatest swordsman in Japan—Kou-Kage!

There is no solfège, and solfège is not required.

The unique intent behind this sword alone is the best calling card.

Bu Jingyun and Wuming turned their heads almost simultaneously, their gazes sharp as lightning, instantly locking onto the Japanese swordsman.

The two exchanged a glance, and without saying a word, they both read the same meaning in each other's eyes—

It was him—the one who slew the Seven Sea Dragon Kings.

Huang Ying's sharp eyes swept across the entire scene.

However, when my gaze swept over a wild and unrestrained figure in the VIP section—

His expression suddenly changed.

The Sword Emperor was sitting in the VIP section, legs crossed, bragging to the Pig Emperor, completely unaware of him.

Without a second's hesitation, Huang Ying immediately changed direction, avoiding the location of Dao Huang, and quickly walked to a secluded corner on the sidelines, leaning against a boulder and standing silently.

There was only one thought in my mind—

We must never provoke this swordsman again.

Last time, he used his "Time Flies" skill to cut off ten years of his lifespan. Now, his temples are frosted and his face is weathered. This appearance is thanks to the Sword Emperor.

One more time...

This is the end of my swordsmanship in this lifetime.

On the sheer cliffs of Mount Tai, atop an ancient pine tree.

Jiang Chen, dressed in white, leaned lazily against a tree trunk, playing with a pine cone in his hand, as if watching his neighbors argue in his own backyard.

Below, a sea of ​​people thronged, swords gleamed, and heroes gathered—what a grand spectacle!

His eyes were slightly closed, and a strange light flickered deep within his pupils.

Under the all-seeing eye, all disguises in the world are as clear as if one were naked.

"Ah, here they come."

Jiang Chen's gaze pierced through the sea of ​​people and landed on an inconspicuous corner.

An ordinary-looking middle-aged man, blending into a crowd, would not attract any attention.

But in the Heavenly Eye's view, this person's aura was incredibly harmonious—

It blends completely with heaven and earth, forming a seamless whole, without a single leak.

Jiang Chen narrowed his eyes slightly, and light flowed deep within his Heavenly Eye as he peeled back the layers of true essence within this person's body to examine them—at least a thousand years ago.

This is far from the power he predicted. The only possibility is that Di Shitian abandoned his martial arts a thousand years ago to cultivate the Ten Thousand Swords Return to the Origin.

However, what's interesting is—

Under the Heavenly Eye, the aura of phoenix blood within Emperor Shitian's body was not abundant, like the water level in a well had dropped by more than half.

But this will only affect his lifespan and aging, and has nothing to do with his combat strength.

With over a thousand years of immense power at its core, Indra remains an absolute behemoth.

Jiang Chen's lips curled up slightly as his gaze continued to sweep across the crowd.

In the shadow of the boulder, a young man carrying a long, black cloth-like object stood with his arms crossed, his expression cold and stern, his entire being sharp and piercing, like a sword hidden in its sheath.

That was his eldest disciple, Jin.

Beside Jin stood a young man in brocade robes, about ten years old, with sword-like eyebrows and bright eyes, and a faint sword-shaped birthmark between his eyebrows.

"This sword intent... the Holy Spirit Sword Technique?" Jiang Chen narrowed his eyes slightly, then sensed something even deeper.

"And there's a hint of reincarnation in it?"

"The reincarnation of the Sword Saint... Long'er? As expected, she was born with a lowly constitution."

Within a dense canopy of trees, a faint ripple of wind was detected by the Sky Eye.

If it weren't for the keen insight of the Heavenly Eye, no one would have been able to detect this commotion.

Nie Feng arrived, but remained hidden, clearly intending to observe from the shadows first.

Jiang Chen's gaze swept around again, and he frowned slightly.

Xiao Sanxiao...didn't come?

Given that guy's personality, having lived for over four thousand years, it's impossible for the word "immortality" not to attract him.

Is it that they are not interested at all, or are they hiding in Guishan and not coming out?

Forget it, there's no point in guessing.

Jiang Chen casually flicked the pine cone into the air, then looked down at the empty platform below and muttered to himself:

"The cast is almost complete, this play... it's time to begin."

suddenly--

A crimson streak of light shot out from the distant horizon.

Fast, unbelievably fast!!

The crimson light trailed a long, fiery tail, like a falling meteor hurtling backwards into the sky, its blinding red glow turning half the sky blood-red.

In the blink of an eye, they landed on the eaves of the highest point of the Fengchan Terrace.

As the red light faded, a figure appeared.

Broken Waves!!

He stood on the eaves, his clothes fluttering in the mountain wind, looking down at the dense crowd below, his expression as languid as if he were sunbathing on his own balcony.

Yes, it works well.

Duan Lang was very satisfied—this entrance was worth the training.

The entire room fell silent instantly.

"Is this Duan Lang?"

"That red light just now... was that him? That movement speed is incredible!"

"I didn't see clearly... I only saw a red shadow flash by and it went up..."

The pupils of Indra, who was disguised as an ordinary person, suddenly contracted.

The speed of that red streak had already exceeded the scope of ordinary light-footed skills.

Even if he were at his peak and ascended to immortality at will, he might not be able to outrun Duan Lang.

What kind of light-footed skill is this?

He had never seen it before.