The Galgame Martial Saint

When Gu Chengming arrived at the mountain gate of the Yunyue Sect, the sun had just passed its zenith.

The wind on the southern foothills of the Cuiping Mountains was a few degrees colder than on the northern side, carrying a damp, earthy scent of vegetation. It channeled through the stone cliffs on both sides of the gate, making his robes snap loudly in the breeze.

Two stone gates stood over thirty meters high, with the words 【Yunyue】 carved into the lintel. The calligraphy was elegant and fluid, with strokes as sharp as swords.

Legend had it that this was the handwriting of the Yunyue Sect’s founding patriarch, and a faint lingering sword intent still resided between the lines to this day.

Inside the mountain gate, the welcoming party was quite substantial.

A squad of Yunyue Sect disciples in moon-white uniforms lined both sides. There were about twenty of them, each with a solemn expression and a long sword hanging at their waist, standing perfectly straight.

The leader was a middle-aged deacon with a Fourth Realm cultivation and a square, honest face.

“Gu Chengming, Holy Son of the Hunyuan Sect, the Yunyue Sect has been expecting you for a long time. I am Qi Wenyuan of the Deacon Hall, here by the sect master’s order to welcome the Holy Son into the sect.”

Gu Chengming had expected this and returned the salute with a composed expression. “I appreciate your trouble, Deacon Qi.”

Just as he finished speaking, the wind whistled behind him as Hua Daiyi and a group of Hunyuan Sect disciples descended in a grand fashion.

The old man had barely touched the ground before he started looking around, muttering with a hint of regret, “Oh my, this mountain gate of the Yunyue Sect… why does it look so much shabbier than the last time I was here?”

His voice wasn’t particularly loud or quiet, just enough for the nearest rows of Yunyue Sect disciples to hear him clearly.

Gu Chengming shot him a silent look.

Martial Uncle Hua, can we please not start drawing aggro the moment we walk through the door?

Hua Daiyi seemed completely oblivious. He strode forward and raised a hand warmly toward Qi Wenyuan.

“Old Qi! Long time no see! The last time you came to our Hunyuan Sect for a drink was three years ago, wasn’t it? Do you still have any of that Biluo Pure wine left? If you do—”

The smile on Qi Wenyuan’s face remained frozen. “Elder Hua, I hope you have been well. Biluo Pure has ceased production. Last year’s final batch was sealed in the cellar by the sect master’s order.”

“Sealed? Oh, what a shame—”

“The hour is late.”

Qi Wenyuan decisively cut off Hua Daiyi’s social maneuvering. He turned and gestured toward the interior of the gate. “Sword-Drill Peak has been prepared. The disciples of both sects are in position, and the sect master and elders are waiting. Please.”

Hua Daiyi’s hand stopped in mid-air, and he retracted it awkwardly.

The war challenge was set for today’s arena matches, and the Yunyue Sect clearly had no intention of leaving them any time to wander around outside the stage.

Qi Wenyuan’s tone was polite, but his pace didn’t falter for a second, making it clear he wouldn’t give them a chance to hesitate.

Hua Daiyi curled his lip and shot a look at Gu Chengming. The latter shook his head slightly and took the lead in following.

The Hunyuan Sect group filed through the mountain gate, entering the territory of the Yunyue Sect.

Qi Wenyuan led the way at the front with a steady pace, neither looking back to talk nor introducing the scenery. He treated the ornate buildings they passed as if they were invisible.

On the other hand, the Hunyuan Sect disciples were in high spirits, treating the trip as an autumn outing.

Most of them were visiting the Yunyue Sect for the first time, looking around with fresh eyes. A few were whispering to each other in the back, but their relaxed mood didn’t last long. The further they went, the stronger the aura of sword intent became on both sides of the mountain path. One could vaguely see the sword-practice marks left by past cultivators crisscrossing the stone walls like a spiderweb.

The whispering disciples unconsciously fell silent, and even their footsteps became more disciplined.

The group followed the stone path deeper into the sect.

In addition to Deacon Qi Wenyuan, they were joined halfway by a Yunyue Sect elder named Wu Yuan.

This Elder Wu was clearly a hardliner. Along the way, he appeared to be introducing the surrounding architecture, but his words were sharp and filled with hidden barbs.

As they reached a stone bridge spanning a deep ravine, Wu Yuan suddenly slowed his pace and looked at Hua Daiyi with a faint, knowing smile.

“Speaking of which, Elder Hua, our Yunyue Sect has quite an interesting history with Holy Son Gu. Three years ago, our disciple Li Mozi was defeated by Holy Son Gu. His master, Liu Changfeng, originally intended to personally ‘advise’ the Holy Son. Unfortunately, Junior Brother Liu was ambushed by rogue cultivators on his way and his injuries have yet to heal. He can only recuperate in bed. Truly a regret.”

Hua Daiyi’s eyes lit up, his face full of concern as his acting skills kicked in naturally. “Oh, I remember that! But I didn’t realize it was so serious. He hasn’t recovered even after all this time?”

Wu Yuan’s eyelids twitched violently. He gritted his teeth and said coldly, “Indeed. Those two rogue cultivators were incredibly ruthless, specifically targeting his face and major joints. Although Junior Brother Liu is in the Fourth Realm, he couldn’t handle four hands with just two. He was beaten until his bones were shattered and was forced to stay in bed for three full years. He only managed to start walking again a few days ago.”

“Our Yunyue Sect investigated for two years but couldn’t find even a shadow of those two rogue cultivators. Elder Hua, you have many acquaintances. I wonder if you’ve heard of which two fierce men in the cultivation world enjoy putting people in sacks and beating them?”

Gu Chengming heard everything clearly. His face remained calm, but his mind was as clear as a mirror.

So, besides my master, the other person who helped in that beating really was Martial Uncle Hua.

Facing Wu Yuan’s almost murderous gaze, Hua Daiyi didn’t show the slightest bit of guilt. Instead, he slapped his thigh with a face full of righteous indignation.

“Unacceptable! To think such a wicked act could happen in broad daylight! If I knew who those two lunatics were, I would certainly give them a harsh scolding on behalf of Hall Master Liu!”

After his theatrical display, the old man stroked his chin. “But Elder Wu, don’t look at me like that. I’m a law-abiding man. That night, I was on a mountaintop discussing the Dao over wine with my brother Ren Wencai from the Wenjian Sect. Right, Chengming?”

Gu Chengming nodded cooperatively. “That is true. I was there tending the fire at the time.”

Wu Yuan took a deep breath, his chest heaving as he nearly ground his teeth to dust. “Elder Hua, I never said those rogue cultivators attacked at night.”

Hua Daiyi didn’t miss a beat as he continued his nonsense. “Oh, we cultivators often lose track of day and night when in seclusion. Naturally, we drink from morning till night as well. Regardless, Hall Master Liu’s beating was quite educational. In the future, he should bring more fellow disciples along when he goes out.”

Wu Yuan’s face turned ashen. Knowing he was no match for this old rogue in a verbal sparring match, he snorted coldly, flicked his sleeves, and quickened his pace, refusing to say another word.

The rest of the journey was completely silent. Qi Wenyuan continued to lead as a silent guide, while Wu Yuan walked beside the group with a grim face, no longer bothering with the pretense of being a host.

The Hunyuan Sect disciples were happy for the peace. A few young ones exchanged looks and nearly couldn’t hold back their laughter.

…

After crossing the stone bridge, their vision suddenly opened up. They had finally reached Sword-Drill Peak.

The peak had been leveled by a great expert with a single sword strike, turning it into a vast bluestone arena.

What drew everyone’s attention most was the massive ancient bell hanging directly above the arena.

The Yunyue Stop-Conflict Bell.

Gu Chengming looked up slightly. This was a genuine, top-tier Fifth Realm artifact.

While it was slightly inferior to his Black Lotus, it wasn’t far off.

The bell stood several meters tall. Its bronze surface showed no signs of being cast or fused; instead, it was covered in sharp gouges of varying depths.

It was said that the array inscriptions on this bell were not the work of a blacksmith, but were carved inch by inch over seventy-two generations of inner sect elders using their own sword arts. Every scratch held the insights and sword intent of ancestral sword cultivators.

According to the Yunyue Sect’s rules, any external sect coming for a spar must ring this bell to signal the start of combat.

This thing was not only incredibly heavy but also possessed a powerful, repelling sword intent. Ordinary cultivators would struggle just to get near it, let alone ring it.

Every time an external sect came to the arena, it usually required eighteen Third Realm disciples with strong blood qi to form an array and collectively push the massive striker made of thousand-year lightning-struck wood, barely managing to strike the bell against the pressure of the sword intent.

As for its purpose after being rung…

The artifact was named “Stop-Conflict” for a reason.

Once the bell chimed, the laws of the Fifth Realm would instantly envelop the entire Sword-Drill Peak arena. Even if two people on stage were using their ultimate trump cards and were about to perish together, the law could forcibly pull them apart. It was a supreme treasure for preventing fatalities in the arena.

…

Soon, the Hunyuan Sect group took their seats.

The spectator stands were split between east and west. The west side was the Yunyue Sect’s home ground, where elders and elite disciples gathered, dressed elegantly with composed expressions, emphasizing their restrained sword intent.

The east side was for the Hunyuan Sect diplomatic mission. Hua Daiyi sat prominently in the center, his dark red training outfit standing out sharply against the sea of white.

The old man had a flask of spirit wine by his side, and twenty Hunyuan Sect disciples sat upright behind him with clear, focused gazes.

The two groups sat facing each other across the arena. On the surface, they were perfectly polite, but undercurrents were surging.

Sect Master Qin Ruoxu did not appear. Vice Sect Master Liu Yezhou acted as the referee. The white-haired elder sat at the referee’s table, having already refilled his tea twice, his expression calm.

Liu Yezhou’s voice wasn’t loud, yet it carried clearly across the entire field. “Song Mingyuan of the Yunyue Sect, Gu Chengming, Holy Son of the Hunyuan Sect. This is a friendly match; do not use your sect’s secret techniques.”

As soon as he finished speaking, two figures leaped into the arena one after another.

Song Mingyuan, a newly promoted elder of the Yunyue Sect’s Azure Peak, was at the eighth level of the Third Realm, his cultivation equal to Gu Chengming’s.

Although he was a new elder, he had been famous in the cultivation world for a long time, having practiced the sword for nearly twice as long as Gu Chengming.

Of course, Gu Chengming didn’t mind. It would have been boring if he were forced to bully people his own age. In a sense, this situation could still be considered “bullying a junior.”

The Yunyue Sect’s internal evaluation of Song Mingyuan was quite high: precise sword moves, balanced offense and defense, and few weaknesses.

The moment Gu Chengming landed, he had already gauged most of his opponent’s capabilities.

The man’s spiritual energy circulation was steady, his meridian capacity was solid, and his restrained sword intent held a sharp edge. The Yunyue Sect had sent out a top-tier student of their rank for the first match, clearly intending to make a strong opening statement.

Song Mingyuan held his sword and saluted properly. “I have long heard of Holy Son Gu’s great name.”

“You are too kind,” Gu Chengming returned the salute, neither overbearing nor humble.

The two of them each took three steps back, and their auras instantly spread out.

Song Mingyuan struck first. His sword light was continuous, like flowing moonlight.

Gu Chengming didn’t draw his sword. He stepped half a pace to the left, narrowly avoiding the blade aimed at his face. He raised his right arm, meeting the incoming block directly with the outside of his forearm.

With the blood qi reinforcement from 《Hundred Bones Resonating》, the hardness of his body had long surpassed the scope of conventional body cultivators. The sound of iron clashing against jade rang out clearly on the stage, and Song Mingyuan’s long sword was forcibly knocked two inches off course.

Song Mingyuan’s pupils shrank. He immediately changed his move, his sword spinning and transforming into a dense barrage of thrusts that rained down. It was the Yunyue Sword Art’s “Reversed Star River,” designed to use speed to counter the sluggishness of body cultivators.

Unfortunately, Gu Chengming was far more slippery than he imagined. Wearing the skin of a body cultivator but using the footwork of a sword cultivator, he shifted and dodged within the continuous sword light. He didn’t even use Red Dust Phantom Step; he dismantled the fierce offensive using only the movement techniques of the 《Cangxian Wine Sword Art》.

After ten rounds of this, sweat was already visible on Song Mingyuan’s forehead. His full-effort sword net had been dismantled by someone using their bare hands for thirty moves. For a direct descendant of the Yunyue Sect, who prided themselves on their skill, the physical damage was minimal, but the humiliation was absolute.

Of course, he didn’t realize that this was already the result of Gu Chengming holding back significantly; otherwise, he would have been taken down the moment he stepped onto the stage.

On the western spectator stands, the Yunyue Sect disciples’ expressions were already turning sour. On the east side, Zhao Tieyi slapped his thigh in delight, and just as he was about to let out a roar, his mouth was firmly covered by a fellow disciple.

“The Holy Son is mighty…” Zhao Tieyi lowered his volume to a level only his own people could hear.

Feeling that he had given the Yunyue Sect enough face, Gu Chengming finally drew his sword.

Since he had chosen to spar, he naturally wanted to use the true Flowing Cloud Following Moon to test a few things.

The sound of the sword leaving its scabbard was very light, nearly covered by the sound of the wind, but the sword intent that spread with it caused the Yunyue Sect disciples in the audience to feel a sudden, inexplicable surge of emotion.

Because the technique Gu Chengming was using was precisely the Yunyue Sect’s 《Flowing Cloud Following Moon Sword Art》.

The moment the sword light flared, Song Mingyuan’s eyes widened. This aura was too familiar; how could he not recognize it?

The problem was that the Flowing Cloud Following Moon Gu Chengming displayed was entirely different from the version he knew, despite the aura being similar.

The same starting stance, the same sword path, the same framework of “Cloud chases the Moon, Moon reflects the Cloud.”

But the intent was worlds apart.

In the version Song Mingyuan had practiced for over a decade, there was always an inexplicable trace of irritability in the sword intent, like clear spring water mixed with strong liquor—it looked transparent, but it burned the throat.

He had always called this the necessary edge of the Yunyue Sword Art, the “slaughtering aura” of a sword cultivator. That was until Gu Chengming’s sword reached him.

The flowing clouds were truly flowing, and the bright moon was truly keeping watch. The cloud chasing the moon was a following, not a pursuit; the moon reflecting the cloud was a bond, not a confrontation.

A natural, perfect harmony; a tenderness that never strayed for a moment!

When he met the first strike, Song Mingyuan’s wrist involuntarily trembled. His sword intent suffered a severe shock in that instant.

Gu Chengming’s sword light unfolded like a moon-colored arc, smooth and effortless, every move perfectly rounded and flawless.

Song Mingyuan’s sword intent, meanwhile, continued to collapse.

The more he tried to use his familiar patterns to resist, the more the other’s sword intent highlighted how riddled with holes his own version was. The gaps and crude additions left by generations of ancestors who had altered the technique were completely exposed before the original.

By the third strike, Song Mingyuan could barely even hold his sword hilt.

His physical strength remained, but his dao heart was on the verge of shattering.

【Flowing Cloud Following Moon is experiencing intense emotional turmoil!】

【It grits its teeth, but its heart is filled with incomparable joy!】

【Damned sword cultivators, damned Yunyue Sect, kneel!】

【Flowing Cloud Following Moon Favorability +5】

Gu Chengming only retracted his stance when Song Mingyuan was pressed down to the ground, paralyzed.

He stopped. Any further would truly be bullying.

Song Mingyuan froze in place, his sword hand shaking uncontrollably. His face was deathly pale, and his lips moved several times, but he couldn’t utter a single word.

The arena fell into a dead silence. Liu Yezhou slowly picked up his tea, took a sip, and announced in a businesslike manner, “The first match goes to the Holy Son of the Hunyuan Sect.”

Song Mingyuan’s footsteps were as unsteady as if he were walking on cotton as he left the stage. Several fellow disciples hurried forward to support him and whispered concerns, but he only shook his head, his gaze having lost its focus.

The Hunyuan Sect side was jubilant. Although Zhao Tieyi and the others tried their best to restrain themselves, their smirks were impossible to suppress.

Hua Daiyi took a huge gulp from his wine bowl, wiped his mouth, and laughed so hard the wrinkles on his face bloomed like flowers.

According to custom, there would usually be a break of one cup of tea’s time between matches to allow both sides to adjust their lineups. Liu Yezhou had already picked up a fresh cup of tea, seemingly intending to follow this rhythm.

However, before Song Mingyuan could even sit down, a piercing whistle of air erupted from the spectator stands.

A grey-robed figure slammed into the arena like a furious arrow, landing steadily in front of Song Mingyuan. The resulting shockwave exploded outward, forcibly cracking the bluestone floor like a spiderweb.

Qi Hengshan, the Peak Master of the Yunyue Sect’s Clear Radiance Peak. He was in the seventh level of the Fourth Realm and was Song Mingyuan’s master.

The old man’s face was lean, but it was currently a dark, ashen color. His sword intent was released recklessly, and the pressure of the Fourth Realm swept through the field with brute force.

“Master…” Song Mingyuan was startled and scrambled backward.

Qi Hengshan didn’t even glance at his disciple; he stared fixedly at Gu Chengming.

The atmosphere instantly dropped to freezing point.

Liu Yezhou paused his tea-drinking, his brow furrowing. “Peak Master Qi, the match has already ended.”

Qi Hengshan turned a deaf ear. He strode toward Gu Chengming and stopped ten feet away, his right hand resting on his sword hilt so hard his knuckles turned white.

“Gu Chengming.” His voice carried a suppressed fury. “You are a disciple of the Wenjian Sect. Where did you learn my Yunyue Sect’s Flowing Cloud Following Moon Sword Art?”

The question was incredibly rude. Just as Gu Chengming was about to speak, Qi Hengshan cut him off, his volume rising steadily.

“I saw those moves clearly! Your Flowing Cloud Following Moon is practiced in a disorganized, improper manner! The intent of Yunyue emphasizes a restrained edge and tempering the sword heart through slaughter. You, on the other hand, are as soft as a woman, draining all the killing intent. What kind of Flowing Cloud Following Moon is that?”

“It is clearly a bastardized version modified by some third-rate unorthodox group!”

Gu Chengming raised an eyebrow. He wasn’t angry; in fact, he almost wanted to laugh.

They had worshipped a fake for so long that when they saw the original, they treated it like a cheap knockoff.

Qi Hengshan clearly wasn’t finished. His tone shifted sharply. “Furthermore, three years ago, you intentionally crippled our Yunyue Sect disciple Li Mozi. At that time, you were merely an outer sect disciple of the Wenjian Sect, yet your strikes were so ruthless. Now you have the gall to come here and use our own sword art to humiliate our disciples!”

“I want to ask, what is your purpose in learning this sword art, Gu Chengming? Are you coveting our Yunyue Sect’s ancient inheritance!”

【《Hundred Bones Resonating》 is furious, its dialogue box shaking wildly: “Emperor Gu! This old geezer is going too far! Quickly use Love Infinite and let’s beat him into the ground until he can’t be dug out!”】

Gu Chengming was also displeased, but before he could react, the Hunyuan Sect side exploded first.

Hua Daiyi slammed his hand on the table, sending the wine bowl flying and spilling half a bowl of aged wine on the floor.

“Qi Hengshan!” The old man’s voice was like a clap of thunder. “If your Yunyue Sect disciples can’t handle a loss, then don’t get on the stage! He lost fair and square, and you immediately start throwing dirt on a junior. What kind of sword cultivator’s integrity is that!”

Zhao Tieyi and the twenty disciples stood up in unison. Although these young men had learned restraint after the baptism of the Hat Trial Court, the anger on their faces was real.

In contrast, the atmosphere within the Yunyue Sect was far more complicated.

Many disciples and young elders looked embarrassed, their eyes darting around. Protective behavior was one thing, but this was becoming somewhat shameless. Song Mingyuan had lost clearly, and his opponent hadn’t even used his full strength. For a master to jump out and throw a tantrum was truly damaging to the sect’s reputation.

However, many others had conflicted expressions. The shock brought by that set of Flowing Cloud Following Moon was still fresh in their minds. That harmonious, gentle sword intent was too different from the version they practiced, leading them to wonder if they had been practicing incorrectly.

So when Qi Hengshan called Gu Chengming’s version “unorthodox,” they actually felt a secret sense of relief.

Having been around for many years, Qi Hengshan naturally sensed the subtle shift in the room. He took a deep breath, and his ashen face quickly settled into a more composed look.

“I lost my composure just now.”

He first saluted Liu Yezhou, then nodded slightly toward the Hunyuan Sect. His posture was quite humble. “Elder Hua, please do not take offense. I was merely distressed for my beloved disciple. If my words were offensive, I hope you can be magnanimous.”

Hua Daiyi snorted coldly and turned his head away.

After apologizing, Qi Hengshan smoothly shifted the conversation. “However, that match was indeed distressing to me.”

He shook his head, his face full of grief. “The Flowing Cloud Following Moon shown by Holy Son Gu is a thousand miles away from our sect’s orthodox inheritance. To prevent the world’s sword cultivators from spreading misinformation, I boldly volunteer today…”

He pressed his sword hilt and bowed slightly, putting on the full air of a senior. “In the name of the Peak Master of Clear Radiance Peak, I wish to personally spar with Holy Son Gu in the Flowing Cloud Following Moon Sword Art. This will also allow everyone present to see the true grace of the authentic Yunyue sword intent.”

His words were high-sounding, but they translated to one sentence: “I’m going to beat you, and my excuse is teaching you the correct way to hold a sword.” He seized the high ground of “defending the orthodox path” while putting Gu Chengming on the spot.

If a senior lowered himself to “advise” you, and you as a junior dared to refuse, it would be seen as a sign of guilt or cowardice.

Liu Yezhou’s gaze shifted between the two of them. He saw through Qi Hengshan’s little scheme, but as a referee, as long as both sides agreed, he had no reason to stop it.

“Holy Son Gu, what do you think?” Liu Yezhou asked as a matter of formality.

Hundreds of eyes were pinned on Gu Chengming.

Gu Chengming studied Qi Hengshan. Seventh level of the Fourth Realm—a core combat power of the Yunyue Sect, nearly an entire major realm higher than him.

He suddenly felt like laughing. It seemed that using cultivation realms to suppress others was a Yunyue Sect tradition.

Li Mozi had relied on his realm back then, and now an elder of the Yunyue Sect was doing the same.

However, this situation actually suited Gu Chengming’s goals perfectly. He smiled and said, “Since Peak Master Qi is so inclined, I shall naturally accompany you.”

“However, since Peak Master Qi is acting under the name of ‘advising on the Flowing Cloud Following Moon,’ then in our spar, we shall only use the Flowing Cloud Following Moon Sword Art.”

At these words, Qi Hengshan’s expression changed slightly. He had originally planned to use his Fourth Realm, seventh-level cultivation to overpower everything with brute force.

But Gu Chengming’s counter-move had framed the rules strictly as a “contest of sword intent.” If he relied too heavily on his cultivation advantage, wouldn’t people say he was lacking confidence?

But on second thought, no matter how miraculous Gu Chengming was rumored to be, he was still just a Third Realm junior. Why should he fear him?

With that thought, Qi Hengshan accepted directly. “Fine. We shall only use the Flowing Cloud Following Moon.”

In the next moment, the two stood facing each other, their sword intents spreading simultaneously.

Qi Hengshan struck first.

With the reinforcement of his Fourth Realm, seventh-level spiritual energy, his 《Flowing Cloud Following Moon》 carried a chilling slaughtering aura. The sword light was like a storm of blades, tearing several silver-white arcs across the arena.

As a senior personally taking the stage, every strike carried immense pressure. The techniques polished over thousands of years by the Yunyue Sect were executed to their fullest in Qi Hengshan’s hands, his sword paths tricky and his strength brutal.

In contrast, Gu Chengming remained at a steady, unhurried pace. True Monarch Liuyun Suyu’s original sword intent unfolded like a babbling brook.

He didn’t clash head-on with the violent killing intent, instead choosing to overcome hardness with softness and avoid brute force with skill. The focus of the cloud chasing the moon was on “following,” not “pursuit.”

When Qi Hengshan’s heavy sword struck down, Gu Chengming’s blade would slide away like a flowing cloud, neither receiving nor blocking but using the opponent’s own force against them. The moon reflecting the cloud emphasized a “bond,” not a “confrontation.”

Gu Chengming’s counterattacks never took the path of a direct assault, yet every time they accurately hit the weakest gaps in Qi Hengshan’s sword intent. The flaws left by the modifications of later generations were now completely exposed.

Qi Hengshan had practiced the sword for decades and believed he had mastered this technique to perfection.

As it turned out, Gu Chengming’s sword was a mirror that revealed his riddled foundation. The intent that was supposed to flow had been artificially severed and crudely stitched with slaughtering moves—how could it possibly compare to the original harmony?

After just ten moves, sweat was pouring down Qi Hengshan’s forehead. His opponent was clearly a Third Realm junior using the same sword art, yet he felt as if he were sparring with a senior and receiving guidance.

“Absurd!”

Qi Hengshan gritted his teeth, his spiritual energy surging wildly. He intended to abandon sportsmanship and use his Fourth Realm, seventh-level energy reserves to crush the other’s sword intent.

But unfortunately, he wanted to compare stats with Gu Chengming?

The long sword in Gu Chengming’s hand flicked along Qi Hengshan’s blade like a flowing cloud.

Clang—

In the ear-piercing sound of clashing metal, Qi Hengshan’s defense was wide open. That brutal spiritual energy was entirely deflected to the side, causing his center of gravity to lurch forward uncontrollably.

Gu Chengming used the momentum to retract his sword, and his right leg snapped out like a tensed bowstring, delivering a solid kick to Qi Hengshan’s chest.

Now this is a stat-check!

Crack—

The sickening sound of breaking bones echoed across the arena. Qi Hengshan’s chest visibly caved in, and his Fourth Realm protective true qi shattered like paper.

He flew back like a kite with a broken string, coughing up a mouthful of blood mixed with internal organ fragments in mid-air. He flew over thirty meters, crashing heavily into the bluestone floor outside the arena.

The massive impact created a deep pit in the ground, sending stone fragments flying.

Qi Hengshan didn’t even have time to scream. His head slumped to the side as he fell into a deep coma, his meridians clearly damaged and his injuries severe.

【Flowing Cloud Following Moon laughs loudly: This is exactly what a treacherous sword cultivator deserves!】

【Flowing Cloud Following Moon is clearly quite happy, very satisfied with your performance in beating up a Yunyue Sect sword cultivator.】

【It feels that at this moment, you are absolutely the least annoying sword cultivator in the world to it.】

【Flowing Cloud Following Moon Favorability +5】

At the same time, the entire field was dead silent.

If Song Mingyuan getting beaten was a matter of a younger generation being less skilled, it could be used as gossip.

But for a Fourth Realm peak master of Clear Radiance Peak to have his defense broken by his “own sect’s technique” across a realm gap and then be kicked into a critical condition… that was no longer something to be enjoyed as entertainment.

This was simply too terrifying.

The atmospheric pressure on the Yunyue Sect’s side plummeted below freezing.

No one spoke. The disciples looked at each other in shock, and the elders’ expressions were a chaotic mix of emotions.

A few senior members huddled in a corner, whispering with dark faces, their eyes full of wariness as they looked at Gu Chengming.

Hua Daiyi was also somewhat stunned, but he quickly regained his composure.

While Qi Hengshan’s fate was certainly satisfying, it also meant things had taken a turn—the Yunyue Sect had lost face and had a member injured. If they let it end like this, they wouldn’t be the Yunyue Sect he knew.

The old man discreetly scanned the several Yunyue Sect veterans with grim faces.

Sure enough, in the next moment, an elder in a dark green robe rose leisurely from his seat.

Zhao Zhijie, the Head of the Yunyue Sect’s Enforcement Hall.

He didn’t go onto the stage to make a fool of himself; he stood at the edge of the spectator stands, hands behind his back, and spoke in a steady, unhurried tone.

“Holy Son Gu’s sword art is exquisite. We have truly had our eyes opened.”

He first offered praise, then prepared to strike.

“However, I still have a doubt in my heart.”

Gu Chengming stood on the stage, silent, watching his performance.

“Holy Son Gu comes here representing the Hunyuan Sect. Every word and action represents the Hunyuan Sect’s image.”

Zhao Zhijie smiled as he added, “But in the two matches so far, Holy Son Gu has used only sword arts.”

“The Hunyuan Sect was founded on body tempering; the Holy Son should be the representative of the body cultivator lineage. Yet Holy Son Gu has used the sword throughout. Forgive my bluntness, but this seems a bit inconsistent with your title.”

Zhao Zhijie spread his hands, his tone perfectly measured. “Since you represent the Hunyuan Sect, you should display the methods of a body cultivator for it to be considered proper. I wonder if Holy Son Gu agrees?”

At the Hunyuan Sect seats, Hua Daiyi’s beard bristled with anger at these words.

And as Zhao Zhijie’s voice fell, the Stop-Conflict Bell hanging from the ceiling suddenly began to hum.

On the ancient bell’s surface, the complex inscriptions were lighting up one by one at a speed nearly impossible for the eye to track.

Gu Chengming’s gaze swept across the spectator stands.

In a corner sat several Yunyue Sect elders, each sitting upright as if they were just venerable members of the audience, making it look as though they weren’t the ones secretly activating the Stop-Conflict Bell.

How shameless.

Gu Chengming sighed. It was said that cultivators who came to the Yunyue Sect for a “spar” rarely met a good end and were unable to use their full power. He hadn’t known why before, but now he did.

When the Yunyue Sect went to other sects, they relied on bullying the weak, but when others came to their sect, they had to endure these secret schemes.

It was truly disgusting.

As the Stop-Conflict Bell gradually ramped up its power, Gu Chengming clearly felt the circulation of spiritual energy in his body begin to slow. Every cycle through his qi sea was a fraction slower than the last.

At the same time, a sense of fatigue began to quietly spread through his limbs and bones.

This was the law intent of the Stop-Conflict Bell—suppressing fighting spirit and dulling spiritual energy.

Normally, this artifact was used to halt spars that had spun out of control. Once the bell rang, everyone would be forced to stop.

But right now, these old fogies had no intention of ringing the bell; they were merely using it covertly to deal with him.

To an outsider, it would only look like Gu Chengming was running out of steam. Who would have thought the official equipment was being used to rig the match?

【《Zhou Rites Heavenly Rectifying Art》 is surging with anger: “Secretly using an artifact—how utterly shameless!”】

The humming of the Stop-Conflict Bell rose by several decibels. The intensity of the law suppression climbed again. The sluggishness of the spiritual energy in his meridians reached a level that was physically agonizing, and even his breathing felt as heavy as lead.

Any ordinary Third Realm cultivator would have been pressed to their knees under such conditions.

But Gu Chengming didn’t seem affected at all.

He smiled, though it was more like he was amused by the absurdity. “You want me to show you the methods of a body cultivator?”

Clink.

The clear sound of his sword returning to its scabbard was exceptionally distinct in the silence.

Zhao Zhijie was stunned for a moment, thinking Gu Chengming had been provoked, and felt a surge of joy.

In the next moment, Gu Chengming let go of his sword hilt, and the fingers of his right hand slowly curled into a fist.

A fist.

The moment his right fist was fully closed, a dialogue box appeared.

【《Hundred Bones Resonating》 is eager: Emperor Gu, I have been waiting for a long time!】

【These ungrateful dogs need to be shown their place!】

Gu Chengming didn’t need to respond, for the power of the Hundred Bones Resonating of Love had already descended.

A faint white light emerged from his fist. At first, it was just sparks leaking from the gaps in his bones, but in an instant, a dominant red-gold light intervened.

The white and red-gold collided, merged, and surged.

The light on his fist expanded at a logic-defying speed, turning from sparks to a candle, from a candle to a torch, until finally, the white-gold light exploded from Gu Chengming’s right fist, instantly swallowing the entire arena.

The pressure that poured out while that punch was charging was as violent as a landslide or a tsunami. It carried a colossal force that far exceeded his own cultivation realm by several major stages, ruthlessly crushing the senses of everyone present.

At the head of the stands, Liu Yezhou’s pupils contracted sharply. His mind went blank; he didn’t even have time to react.

The power of this punch was at least at the middle stage of the Fifth Realm!

A Third Realm cultivator had charged a punch with the power of the middle-stage Fifth Realm?

But it all happened too fast. He had no time to stop it, nor did he have the strength to. The disciples in the audience fared even worse.

The disciples in the front row were hit directly by the pressure, their bodies forced backward. Several Third Realm disciples were instantly covered in cold sweat, their legs shaking like sewing machines. While the disciples in the back rows managed to remain standing, they all stared with wide eyes, their faces pale.

Gu Chengming raised his fist.

His knuckles pointed directly at the arrogant Stop-Conflict Bell above.

“Since you want to see it.”

He spoke, his voice piercing through the roar of the white-gold light.

“Then watch closely.”

The punch landed.

The light of white and red-gold surged, compressed, and condensed on his fist. All the terrifying power gathered into a single point barely an inch wide in front of his knuckles.

Then, that point touched the bell.

The Stop-Conflict Bell let out a sound like a scream.

Screee—

The white-gold light slammed brutally into the front of the bell, ruthlessly tearing open the first crack.

Fractures spread across the surface at a speed faster than the eye could catch. The dao intent inscriptions that dozens of generations of sword cultivators had spent their lives engraving dissolved inch by inch within the light, like a painting consumed by fire.

The sword intent accumulated over thousands of years was released in the same instant, lighting up Sword-Drill Peak as bright as day.

Debris rained down like a storm.

The shattered remains of the Stop-Conflict Bell, along with massive chunks of rock and ceiling fragments, traced a beautiful arc across half the mountain gate in mid-air.

The Yunyue Sect disciples along the path looked up to see a massive heap of bronze scrap metal screaming across the sky, trailing smoke and dust. Its giant shadow passed over the roofs of three grand halls before finally crashing down outside the foot of the mountain.

The moment the Stop-Conflict Bell shattered, the dozens of Yunyue Sect elders hiding in the shadows who had been responsible for channeling spiritual energy into it suffered a backlash.

Blood overflowed from their mouths, leaked from their noses, and even seeped through their teeth.

Some clutched their chests and fell straight to their knees; others gripped the edges of their stone benches, trying to maintain their dignity and stay seated; and some simply rolled their eyes and fell backward, their heads hitting the stone floor with a dull thud.

Crimson blood soon stained the bluestone floor in the corners of the spectator stands.

The surrounding disciples and elders finally snapped out of their shock. Some cried out and rushed forward to save the injured, while others scrambled to pull out powerful medicines—but the vast majority remained frozen in place, staring like wooden statues at the figure standing in the center of the arena with a retracted fist.

No one dared to speak; no one dared to move.

In the vast Yunyue Sect, among hundreds of living souls, there was total silence.

Compared to the effect of the artifact, this single punch was the true “Stop-Conflict.”

Gu Chengming stood at the center of everyone’s vision, allowing the sunlight to wrap around his body as the last wisp of white-gold aura fully dissipated.

He finally spoke again.

“Using the sword earlier was to protect you.”

He paused for a breath. That short moment of silence held a pressure so strong it was suffocating.

Then, his gaze fell, scanning the pale Yunyue Sect elders with a hint of nonchalance.

“Without the sword, not many would have survived today.”

Hundred Bones Resonating was spamming hearts in the dialogue box.

【Hundred Bones Resonating has completely turned into a little fangirl, cheering: Emperor Gu should have used this move long ago! Emperor Gu is mighty!】

【Hundred Bones Resonating Favorability +10】