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"Uncle Sword!"
"Grandpa Sword!"
Ning Fengzhi and Ning Rongrong cried out. Limping heavily, Ning Fengzhi leaned on his cane and hobbled toward Sword Douluo. Ning Rongrong, meanwhile, stood frozen in place, shouting as she looked between the fallen Tang San and Sword Douluo, unsure whether to run to him or stay put.
Oscar, from the Shrek team, watched Ning Rongrong's actions and suddenly understood why she had run out earlier. A heavy weight settled over his heart, dark clouds looming in his mind.
"Are you alright?" Qian Renhan walked up to Ye Lingling, his expression unchanged. As always, he felt no affection for Ye Lingling—only duty.
"I'm fine. I knew you would save me." Ye Lingling replied with a pure smile, as pristine as a begonia blooming untainted from the mire.
Qian Renhan's eyes flickered slightly. He nodded and said calmly, "Go where you're supposed to. Don't cause me trouble."
Ye Lingling obediently nodded and walked toward the Pope's Hall, heading behind the group of Titled Douluo. Her eyes met Qian Renxue's cold, hostile gaze, and her delicate body trembled slightly. Bowing her head, she greeted, "Hello."
"Hello," Qian Renxue replied flatly.
"Uncle Sword, Uncle Sword!" Ning Fengzhi shouted, his heart filled with sorrow, resentment, and confusion as he looked at Sword Douluo—clad in white, now soaked in blood, his arms completely severed. His grief was for Sword Douluo, his resentment and confusion directed at Ning Rongrong's actions—and partly at himself, for his failure in guidance that led to this tragedy.
"Sword Douluo, do you think severing ties with the Seven Treasure Glazed Tile Sect will spare you? You still have Ning Fengzhi and Ning Rongrong. Today, all of you must die." Qian Renhan raised his Dark Holy Sword, prepared to send Ning Fengzhi and Sword Douluo to the afterlife.
As soon as he finished speaking—Boom!—Sword Douluo, lying in a pool of blood, suddenly erupted with a powerful wave of sword aura. Countless pale sword energies engulfed his body, pushing Ning Fengzhi back.
To everyone's shock, the sword intent didn't harm Ning Fengzhi at all.
"Sword intent? I destroyed his sword heart long ago—how can he still unleash sword intent? And it's even stronger now."
Qian Renhan paused, a trace of confusion flashing in his eyes. This sword intent did originate from Sword Douluo, but it was entirely different from the aura he had sensed during their battle two years ago. Back then, Sword Douluo's sword embodied the grand, upright spirit of a Gentleman's Sword. Now, the sword's aura was the complete opposite—like polar opposites, absolute contradictions.
My sword is the sword of slaughter. Its opposing force is light. The sword that is completely contrary to mine... is protection.
Having found the answer, Qian Renhan laughed and said, "Sword Douluo, I didn't expect you to rebuild your sword heart, rising anew from destruction. Just by achieving this, you've surpassed both your father and grandfather."
"But I was right, wasn't I? You reforged your sword heart because I threatened to kill Ning Fengzhi and Ning Rongrong. As the Guardian Douluo of the Seven Treasure Glazed Tile Sect—the 'Grandpa Sword' whom Ning Rongrong loves most—you truly live up to your name."
Qian Renhan didn't interfere with Sword Douluo, who was in a meditative state, breaking through. He knew full well that one should never give an enemy a chance, but as a fellow sword cultivator, he too had a sword heart, and there were certain codes of conduct he must follow. Just like two years ago in Heaven Dou City—when Sword Douluo dueled him knowing he would lose, yet still refused Ning Fengzhi's assistance out of respect for the sword.
Before him, Sword Douluo, arms crippled and lying on the ground, slowly floated into the air, eyes tightly shut. The Seven Kill Sword, which had fallen nearby, rose in response to his call and floated before him. A pillar of pale sword aura shot into the sky, dazzlingly bright.
In just a few moments, Sword Douluo opened his eyes again. His body radiated the aura of a Level 97 Super Douluo. His gaze sharpened, locking onto his target, no longer the defeated and despairing figure from before—his strength had surged.
Sword Douluo looked at Qian Renhan. Their eyes met, their swords trembling faintly in their hands. Both understood—only one would survive this battle.
"Giant Sword Soars—Man and Sword Become One!"
With those eight words, white light flashed as Sword Douluo merged with the Seven Kill Sword. What happened next even surprised Qian Renhan. The blood Sword Douluo had spilled on the ground, and from his severed arms, began to flow backward. Drop by drop, it flew up and merged into the Seven Kill Sword.
The two-meter-long Seven Kill Sword, once ancient and unadorned, now glowed blood-red. The sword aura that radiated from it carried a faint crimson hue, as dazzling and radiant as a blood-red sunset.
"Uncle Sword!" Ning Fengzhi was completely stunned, his pupils dilated. He understood immediately—Chen Xin was burning his life force, sacrificing everything to forge this blood-colored Seven Kill Sword.
Sword Douluo was willing to burn everything—his life, his soul—just to protect Ning Fengzhi and Ning Rongrong.
Crimson light pulsed as Sword Douluo, in perfect unity with his sword, unleashed no flashy sword aura or showy techniques. All the sword energy around him was drawn inward, condensed entirely into his blade, transforming into the most powerful and supreme strike of his entire life.
The ninth spirit ring on the blood-red Seven Kill Sword flared brightly. In an instant, Sword Douluo shot forward, aiming straight for Qian Renhan's chest. Wherever the blade passed, everything was cleaved apart by its razor-sharp edge.
A trace of amusement curled at the corners of Qian Renhan's mouth. Just like Sword Douluo, he raised his own Dark Demon Sword, its tip clashing head-on with the Seven Kill Sword.
At the moment the two blades collided, two streaks of light—one blood-red, one jet-black—flashed like meteors across the square in front of the Pope's Hall. The ground beneath their feet cracked open in a web of fractures, spreading outward from the two combatants. Terrifying sword energy exploded in every direction, and nearby stone pillars were instantly shattered into rubble.
A red-clad cardinal failed to evade in time. His upper arm was struck by the sword aura and exploded into a cloud of blood mist. The energy continued to devour the remaining part of his arm, swiftly spreading toward his shoulder, threatening to consume his entire body.
Ghost Douluo appeared beside him in a flash, grabbing the cardinal's mangled upper arm and tearing it away. That piece, too, turned to dust, but fortunately, the sword aura hadn't yet reached the cardinal's shoulder. His life was spared by a hair's breadth.
Ghost Douluo looked down at his own hand, now marred by several deep cuts from a mere brush with the sword aura. Turning his gaze back to the clashing swords, he was filled with awe. If just a trace of sword aura could injure him, the power these two wielded was truly at a realm beyond comprehension.
Four Titled Douluo quickly released spirit power shields to protect everyone present from the battle of these 'gods,' lest mere mortals be caught in their clash and perish.
Meanwhile, the closest bystanders—Ning Rongrong and Ning Fengzhi—were enveloped by a layer of pale sword energy. This barrier shattered incoming energy ripples and warded off the stray crimson sword aura drifting toward them. This protective sword aura was the manifestation of Sword Douluo's newly reforged sword heart—his will to guard.
He had once fought Tang Xiao, who wielded the mighty Clear Sky Hammer and the peerless skills of the Clear Sky Nine Arts. Sword Douluo had gone blow-for-blow against him with just a sword, even defeating Tang Xiao in one move. This alone testified to the power of his sword path.
Yet, like many on the Douluo Continent, despite his peerless strength, Sword Douluo's battle intelligence left much to be desired.
(End of Chapter)