More than a thousand pairs of eyes in the plaza converged upon the two fighters. Though unarmed, their hands clashed like blades—palms and claws interweaving in a fierce exchange no less deadly than steel. At such close quarters, every strike—fist or palm—was aimed at a vital point. This was a battle between true equals.
After more than a hundred moves, neither had gained the upper hand.
Long Zhentian thought to himself that Chen Jinfeng was far more than mere bravado; her skill was genuine. In the past ten years, aside from Tuoba Xingge of the True Divine Palace, he had never encountered an opponent he could not subdue within a hundred moves.
Now that his grand ambition was just beginning to take shape, he would not allow Chen Jinfeng to disrupt it.
"You should know when to advance—and when to retreat," he said coldly.
With a sharp whistle, he stepped forward. His sleeve flicked outward as he unleashed a move known as "Sparse Stars, Deep Moon." In a single instant, three variations burst forth like lightning, each palm strike targeting Chen Jinfeng's vital points.
Forced back by the overwhelming force of his strikes, Chen Jinfeng retreated a full zhang, barely managing to steady herself. The crowd erupted into thunderous applause, the atmosphere reaching a fever pitch.
Chen Jinfeng gasped for breath, realizing that in terms of inner strength, she was indeed inferior. Yet her face remained cold and composed.
Long Zhentian pressed his advantage relentlessly, advancing with the gait of a wolf and tiger, launching a rapid barrage of blows. Chen Jinfeng neither yielded nor faltered—defense and agility combined, softness and hardness intertwined. She countered with swift precision. After several exchanges, their palms met again in a direct clash of internal force.
Then—
With a thunderous shout, both struck with full power.
Boom!
The impact resounded like a thunderclap. Both were thrown backward, landing heavily and staggering several steps before regaining balance. The arena stirred with shock and admiration, cheers rising endlessly.
Chen Jinfeng knew she could not defeat him. She nodded and said,
"Divine Lord of the Nine Heavens—your inner power is profound. I concede my admiration."
Long Zhentian, seeing an opportunity, withdrew gracefully.
"Let this be but a test of skill today. We shall fight again another day."
Chen Jinfeng had consumed half a stalk of the sacred White Lotus of Mount Hua, greatly enhancing her internal energy. She had intended to display her might—but instead suffered a setback. She clenched her teeth inwardly, maintaining composure.
Turning to the Chief Judge of the Jianghu, Cui Fujun, she said,
"With Judge Cui present, let today's exchange be deemed a draw. Another day, let a grand martial assembly be held to determine the victor."
Long Zhentian laughed heartily.
"Well said, Holy Mother of the West!"
Suddenly, a peal of laughter echoed through the air.
The crowd stiffened, turning in alarm.
A vast procession approached—it was the Black Dragon Sect.
At its head stood the Sect Master, Murong Gui. To his sides were Left Dharma King Meng Ming and Right Dharma King Shi Kai. Behind them followed the Four Heavenly Kings—Yang Chao of the East, Hong Qi of the South, Wei Chang of the North, and Xiao Cheng of the West.
The situation had now far exceeded all expectations.
Long Zhentian felt a chill down his spine.Why have all these demons and titans gathered uninvited today?
A verse arose:
The struggle for the Central Plains intensifies,Ambitions of overlords fill the land.The Divine Lord meets a worthy foe,A chill runs down his spine.
Murong Gui's brows rose slightly, his eyes gleaming with sharp brilliance. With a single leap, his body spun through the air, and in an instant, he landed in the center of the arena. All were astonished.
Huangfu Song, the White Lotus Sect Master, said coldly,
"The mantis stalks the cicada, unaware of the oriole behind."
He then quoted:
"In a garden stands a tree. Upon it rests a cicada, singing sorrowfully as it drinks the dew, unaware of the mantis lurking behind. The mantis bends low, preparing to seize the cicada, yet does not know of the oriole nearby. The oriole stretches its neck to peck the mantis, yet knows not of the pellet below. All seek the gain before them, blind to the danger behind."
Murong Gui, proud and upright, disdained taking advantage of others.
He laughed calmly.
"Heroes of unmatched skill have gathered here today—this is a grand occasion for the martial world. I, Murong Gui, have come merely to partake in this gathering. You need not be overly concerned."
He paused.
"The Black Dragon Sect has only one matter to announce."
His words were measured—neither clearly hostile nor friendly—leaving all uncertain of his true intent.
Long Zhentian frowned slightly.
"And what matter might that be?"
Murong Gui smiled faintly, sweeping his gaze across the crowd, then cupped his fists in salute.
"Esteemed heroes of the Jianghu—at this time of chaos, the Black Dragon Sect, in accordance with Heaven's will, shall establish the League of Heroes on the thirtieth day of next month."
"We aim to unite all forces, to uphold justice within the martial world. We invite all heroes to attend and join in this great cause."
The Jianghu, ever a realm of chaos and ambition, stirred violently at his declaration.
Murong Gui, a man of grand vision, now sought to gather scattered powers under one banner.
Whether as ally or adversary—
the rise of the Black Dragon Sect could no longer be ignored.