Factional alliances have ever been the custom of the martial world—sects and strongholds banding together to safeguard their own interests.
Murong Gui, Master of the Black Dragon Sect, had long remained in seclusion. Now, choosing this moment to re-emerge upon the Jianghu, his timing could not have been more opportune.
At these words, Long Zhentian's heart burned with fury. Yet with powerful foes already before him—Huangfu Song of the White Lotus Sect and Chen Jinfeng, the Holy Mother of the Western Sect, each having come to challenge him—he found himself stretched thin.
Still, hearing Murong Gui boldly proclaim the founding of the League of Heroes before all, he could scarcely contain his anger.
"Master Murong may be a hero of this age," he said coldly, "but today, at Huangshan Palace, I have an appointed duel here with Tuoba Xingge of the True Divine Palace. You arrive uninvited—do you take me so lightly?"
Murong Gui, seasoned in grand affairs, merely smiled.
"Divine Lord of the Nine Heavens, do not be angered. Today, those who have come to Huangshan Palace are as numerous as fish crossing a river. Have you invited them all? Moreover, the White Lotus Sect Master and the Holy Mother have both arrived—do they, too, disregard you?"
With that effortless turn of words—four ounces deflecting a thousand pounds—Murong Gui left Long Zhentian momentarily without reply.
Long Zhentian clenched his fists, suppressing the surging blood within him.
"I do not wish to fight you. Yet you come here speaking so arrogantly—do you truly mean to make an enemy of the Nine Heavens Palace?"
Murong Gui's brows lifted slightly, his tone sharpening.
"The Black Dragon Sect is no petty faction. Do not attempt to intimidate us. Today, the White Lotus Master and the Holy Mother have both come to test your arts. As the saying goes—where there is one, there will be two; where there are two, there will be three. Without three, there is no ceremony. Since we are here, we do not fear the might of your Nine Heavens Palace."
Long Zhentian had endured long enough. Before the gathered crowd, he could no longer swallow his anger.
"Enough words. Let us settle this with skill!"
Murong Gui stepped forward, his gaze sharp as a blade. Throwing his head back, he laughed loudly.
"Very well—show me your art!"
At once, the crowd parted.
Huangfu Song and Chen Jinfeng each harbored their own thoughts, while those nearby instinctively withdrew. The two men faced one another, the air itself seeming to freeze.
Silence fell.
A clash of titans was about to unfold.
On one side stood Murong Gui, Master of the Black Dragon Sect, whose fame shook the realm. On the other, Long Zhentian, Divine Lord of the Nine Heavens, already having fought three battles in succession.
With a sudden rush, both moved.
Their robes fluttered in the wind as their forms blurred and shifted, changing positions in the blink of an eye. Claw force and palm wind tore through the air, hissing sharply wherever their power reached. Though unarmed, their speed was astonishing, each revealing rare and peerless techniques seldom seen in the Jianghu.
The onlookers gasped in awe.
Long Zhentian's tiger-like eyes flashed.
This man's menace surpasses all others, he thought.
With a low curse, he attacked fiercely—palms and claws interwoven, strikes sweeping and driving with unmatched ferocity.
Murong Gui responded with lightning reflexes. In a movement swift as thought, he turned his arm and unleashed the secret art of the Seven Slashes of the Dragon Heavens. With the move "Ambition Reaches Heaven," his palm shot forward.
Long Zhentian retreated in a flash, but Murong Gui pressed forward relentlessly.
Long Zhentian struck toward several vital acupoints across Murong Gui's chest and shoulders. Murong Gui deflected them with ease.
"The Nine Heavens Art is no empty name!" he said.
With that, he delivered a palm strike whose force shattered the ground, sending stones and dust scattering.
In an instant, Long Zhentian twisted aside, his protective qi shielding his body. Murong Gui did not evade—instead, he struck three consecutive palms, stirring up a storm of flying sand and debris.
Only now did the crowd realize:
Murong Gui's strength was no less than Long Zhentian's.
No wonder he dared come to challenge him.
Long Zhentian let out a sinister laugh. His palms moved in rapid succession, whipping up gusts of force that churned dust into the air, driving the surrounding crowd backward.
Suddenly—
Murong Gui advanced like an arrow, his fingers darting forward with a sharp hiss, aiming straight for Long Zhentian's throat.
Long Zhentian parried, stepping and shifting fluidly, turning defense into attack with swift kicks and palm strikes. Their exchange grew ever faster—offense and defense intertwining at blinding speed.
The watching heroes could no longer contain themselves, erupting into cheers.
Both were truly overlords of their realms.
Murong Gui traced an arc with his hand and unleashed "Omnipresence."
Long Zhentian turned sharply, crossing his palms before sweeping his sleeve outward, executing "Beyond the Nine Heavens."
In an instant, a chain of attacks erupted—rapid, relentless. Their robes billowed as strikes flew in every direction. Winds howled, dust swirled, and within moments, dozens of exchanges had passed.
Their figures flashed and interwove, advancing and retreating, each displaying their ultimate techniques.
Murong Gui had come not only to proclaim the League of Heroes, but also to display his mastery.
With a long whistle that rumbled like thunder, his palm technique suddenly transformed.
He unleashed "Roaring Sky, Shattering Clouds."
His figure shot upward like lightning, moving through the air with incredible speed. In an instant, his palm descended—
It struck with the force of a thousand catties, like a tidal wave crashing down, overwhelming and unstoppable.
Long Zhentian reacted in a heartbeat.
With a thunderous roar, his body stood firm like a mountain. He neither evaded nor retreated, instead raising his palm to meet the attack head-on. Within his strike echoed the rumble of earth and mountains.
Boom!
Their palms collided with a deafening explosion.
Long Zhentian staggered backward four or five steps, blood bursting from his mouth.
Murong Gui, however, withdrew calmly, composed and unshaken.
At that critical moment, the Left and Right Envoys—Li Han and Ling Yun—rushed forward to protect their lord.
Murong Gui did not pursue. Instead, he called out:
"Long Zhentian, I have said before—heroes from across the realm have gathered here today. I came only to partake in this grand occasion, with no other intent. Had you not provoked and threatened me, I would not have acted."
Inwardly, he thought:
After so many battles, Long Zhentian is already exhausted. To defeat him now would be unworthy.
At this moment, Cui Fujun, Chief Judge of the Jianghu, raised his voice:
"The two of you bear no enmity. Why risk life and death? Today's clash is but a misunderstanding!"
The winds of the Jianghu had begun to shift.