Chapter 68: Radiant Glory, the Divine Dragon Emerges
As the disciples discussed the arrival of a stream of prodigies, Zhou Xue gathered with the members of the Fang family, with the exception of Fang Hanyu.
Fang Zigeng spoke with a sigh, “Fourteen years of cultivation, and already his presence overshadows those who have trained for decades—so this is the power wielded by the Celestial Origin Treasure Spirit?”
The other disciples of the Fang family were excited, sharing in the pride of their kin’s achievement. Zhou Xue remained calm, her gaze fixed on the dueling platform, her thoughts unreadable.
Suddenly, shouts of surprise erupted from the distant disciples.
“Fang Wang has arrived!”
Zhou Bo called out excitedly, pointing toward Fang Wang.
Everyone turned to look, and saw a figure flying from the direction of the Third Line—it was Fang Wang. He was not riding a flying sword; his white disciple’s robe billowed in the air. His aura was not overpowering, yet as he swept across the sky above the main city, his ethereal bearing drew all eyes to him.
After so many years cultivating in the Celestial Palace, Fang Wang possessed an indescribable sense of world-weariness, but combined with his youthful and handsome appearance, it gave rise to a unique charm.
Zhao Zhen gazed at Fang Wang’s figure and mused, “Sometimes, the moment someone appears, you know who the protagonist of the story is.”
The disciples of the Third Line echoed his sentiment. Fang Wang was now the pride of the entire Third Line; praise him and you win their friendship. Zhao Zhen’s words only increased his popularity among those around him.
Lu Yuanjun also looked toward Fang Wang, a smile of anticipation and admiration on his face.
“Ten years have passed, I wonder how strong Fang Wang is now,” Yan Feiyue remarked.
The image of Fang Wang slaying the black flood dragon in the Great Saint Cave Heaven was still vivid in his mind, as if it had happened only yesterday.
Gu Li, veiled, her beautiful eyes fixed on Fang Wang, held only expectation in her gaze, confident that Fang Wang would prevail.
Fang Wang passed through the gap in the dueling platform’s formation and landed lightly atop it. At that moment, he was the focus of all attention—fiery gazes converged from every direction. His expression remained serene; he stood tall, his right hand gently resting on the hilt of the Azure Monarch Sword at his waist. Little Zi was still nestled in his arms, but dared not poke her head out.
Cultivators were permitted to bring their spirit beasts to duels—after all, a cultivator’s overall strength was never determined solely by their cultivation.
“Fang Wang truly carries himself well,” Fang Mo remarked.
So many cultivators watched, yet Fang Wang’s expression did not waver. Such a person was of his own clan; thinking about it now, Fang Mo felt almost as though it were unreal.
Zhou Xue’s expression remained calm, and she offered no comment.
Master Greedy Sleep stood outside the dueling platform, raising his hand to cast a spell. Twelve golden mirrors soared through the air within the main city, rapidly expanding, and hovering above the city. Each reflected the dueling platform, so that from any corner of the city, Fang Wang’s figure could be seen.
“So that’s Fang Wang? He’s so handsome!”
“After ten years, Senior Brother Fang Wang shines even brighter.”
“It’s hard to imagine he’s only cultivated for fourteen years—when he stands there, I feel as though he’s already won.”
“That’s just the psychological effect of the Celestial Origin Treasure Spirit; everyone feels that the bearer should win.”
“No matter how strong the Celestial Origin Treasure Spirit is, to face thirteen of the greatest contemporary prodigies in succession—can he really defeat them all?”
Throughout the city, cultivators’ discussions reverberated. Most disciples believed Fang Wang was the strongest, but with so many opponents, victory over all would be difficult. This was not the Nine Line Duel; now, his adversaries were the brightest talents from every sect.
Guang Qiuxian leapt onto the dueling platform, his face adorned with a gentle smile. Stroking his beard, he spoke, “Today is the day the disciples of the Grand Abyss Sect and the prodigies of the cultivation world exchange their insights—let us debate, not quarrel. Victory and defeat will be decided, but the path to immortality has no end. Regardless of outcome, may both sides share in the pursuit of longevity.”
His words echoed across the city through the twelve golden mirrors, drawing admiration from the disciples of the Nine Lines and cultivators of every faction. The sect leader’s words indeed displayed great vision.
At the edge of the dueling platform, the thirteen prodigies preparing to challenge Fang Wang laughed and chatted.
---
Dressed in blue, Liu Jun of the Hanging Flood Sword Sect was elegant, holding a folding fan. He looked at the other prodigies and said, “Fellow Daoists, how about I go first to test his strength?”
At this, the prodigy from the Red Sun Sect snorted, “Why should you go first?”
The others chimed in, each wanting to be the first to challenge Fang Wang. They had researched his years of cultivation and were confident in themselves, eager to defeat him in honorable combat.
Just then, a voice drifted over:
“Fellows, don’t argue. Why not all come up together?”
Upon hearing this, the thirteen prodigies’ smiles froze, all staring in surprise at Fang Wang.
Even Guang Qiuxian’s smile faltered, his eyes questioning Fang Wang’s seriousness.
The other day, Fang Wang had said he would deal with these prodigies together, leading Guang Qiuxian to believe it would be a wheel battle, as in the Nine Line Duel. Who would have thought this young man intended to take them all at once?
The twelve golden mirrors focused on Fang Wang, so even if he spoke softly, his words would carry clearly throughout the city. But he did not speak softly—his voice was powerful.
The city fell silent, even the disciples of the Grand Abyss Sect were moved.
Lu Yuanjun’s smile vanished, his brows furrowing.
Zhao Zhen maintained his smile, but his hands inside his sleeves clenched tightly.
“Hmph, aren’t you a little too arrogant?” Song Jinyuan, the sole disciple of the Sword Sage of Great Qi, glared coldly at Fang Wang. He held his sword in both hands, dressed in simple cloth, wearing a bamboo hat. His face was weathered, his eyes fierce as a lion—both cold and commanding.
Fang Wang replied calmly, “None of you wish to miss the chance to challenge me, do you? Come up together—it saves time. Besides, in a one-on-one, you really wouldn’t stand a chance.”
Arrogant!
That was everyone’s first impression upon hearing his words.
Zhou Xue’s lips curled; for the first time, she smiled.
Seeing Fang Wang’s confidence, Guang Qiuxian could only choose to believe in him. He announced, “If that’s your wish, then all of you may enter the platform together.”
With even the sect leader agreeing, the thirteen prodigies could not refuse. They leapt onto the dueling platform, quickly spreading out to surround Fang Wang. Their gazes varied—some angry, some disdainful, some jealous, others amused.
Liu Jun tucked his folding fan into his belt, raised his hand, and summoned a great bow. He mocked, “Fang Wang, why not reveal the Celestial Origin Treasure Spirit and let us see? I am curious—what sort of treasure could embolden you so?”
Without a word, Song Jinyuan drew his long sword. The blade was four fingers wide, silver-blue, exuding cold; its grade was clearly exceptional.
The other prodigies produced their own artifacts, some even summoning their natal treasure spirits.
Fang Wang raised his right hand, and the Celestial Palace Halberd materialized. This time, he did not conceal its true might—a domineering aura erupted, sweeping in all directions, stirring fierce winds.
A resonant roar—
A dragon’s cry echoed from within the Celestial Palace Halberd, reverberating across the city, drawing the attention of all cultivators.
Such a majestic halberd!
Though many had seen the Celestial Palace Halberd in the Nine Line Duel ten years ago, its splendor still stunned them anew.
In that moment, the natal treasure spirits of the thirteen prodigies began to tremble. Those who had not summoned theirs were shocked to find their spirits manifesting involuntarily.
The disciples around the dueling platform also changed expression. Their own treasure spirits grew restless; thankfully, the platform’s formation barrier prevented them from losing control.
---
“Was the phenomenon all those years ago caused by him forging the Celestial Origin Treasure Spirit?”
Someone could not help but cry out. Sixteen years ago, the entire sect’s treasure spirits had flown from their bodies, trembling uncontrollably—how could they ever forget?
Lu Yuanjun looked grave; though his expression matched those around him, murderous intent surged within.
He felt the threat Fang Wang posed, and it was powerful!
He recalled Zhao Zhen’s words: if Fang Wang surpassed him and learned the truth of those years, would he really let him go?
Though his interactions with Fang Wang had been few, he realized Fang Wang was different from most cultivators—he did not rush to pledge allegiance for profit. Perhaps this was what defined a true genius; they need not rely on others.
Fang Wang stood, halberd in one hand, his robe billowing, his aura soaring. He looked down upon the surrounding prodigies and spoke, “Why not state your names? Today’s battle marks our first meeting—may we come to know one another through combat and together seek the path to immortality.”
He would compete, but with honor.
Yet he did not wish to make enemies through arrogance.
His words softened the expressions of the thirteen prodigies. They could understand Fang Wang’s pride; had they possessed the Celestial Origin Treasure Spirit, they would be even more proud. Now, as Fang Wang offered goodwill, how could they refuse?
Though angered, they all knew that Fang Wang, possessing the Celestial Origin Treasure Spirit, would eventually become a legend beyond their reach.
“Red Sun Sect, Tang Kun!”
“Chi Demon Sect, Li Lisheng!”
“Sword Sage’s disciple, Song Jinyuan!”
“Pure Heaven Sect, Lu Xunfeng!”
“Pivot Star Sect, Mo Bei!”
One by one, the prodigies announced their names. When all had finished, Fang Wang soared into the air, halberd in hand, ascending higher and higher.
The thirteen prodigies instinctively looked up at him.
“Ten years ago, in the Great Saint Cave Heaven, I learned a peerless technique. Now, I have barely mastered its basics—let me display it before you.”
Fang Wang looked down at them, his tone calm. As his words fell, streams of energy began to swirl around him, quickly gathering and condensing, forming a gigantic dragon’s head.
Nine Dragon Divine Transformation—Qi Dragon!
Guang Qiuxian looked up, his brows tightly knit. He, too, wondered what technique Fang Wang had mastered.
Before all eyes, the qi dragon around Fang Wang condensed further—even its whiskers and eyes became lifelike, as if the soul of a dragon had descended.
Dragon Form!
Suddenly, the dragon form burst forth in white light, transforming into a white dragon!
Witnessing this, Guang Qiuxian and the peak masters of the Nine Lines changed expression dramatically, as if realizing something unbelievable.
Fang Wang leapt again. The dragon’s form, once only a head, now extended as he soared—a dragon head rising, a body stretching below, as if a divine dragon had emerged from another dimension. When he reached a hundred zhang in height, a majestic white dragon, twenty zhang long, stood proudly in the sky, gazing down upon the dueling platform.
Nine Dragon Divine Transformation!