The eldest sister just wanted to give up, while the spirit swords vied to recognize her as their mas

“I want to take on the challenge,” Wang Liang said with a firm and solemn look in his eyes, his gaze burning like a raging fire. “Ding Ling.”

Everyone was bewildered. "Wait, doesn't he have a clear understanding of himself?"

"If I'm not mistaken, Wang Liang is currently in the Foundation Establishment stage, right? A Foundation Establishment cultivator wants to defeat a Golden Core cultivator? Hahaha!"

Ding Ling raised his chin, his disdain written all over his face without any attempt to hide it. "You? Wang Liang, is your brain filled with horse manure?"

Duan Wenhao quietly tugged at Yun Fuzhao's sleeve and whispered, "Senior Sister Yun, you should persuade him. He's bound to lose if he fights Ding Ling."

Yun Fuzhao smiled mysteriously, "I believe him."

"Now is the time for blind confidence!" Duan Wenhao was getting anxious. "If you lose, you'll have to hand over Wuji."

"I know."

Wang Liang: "Are you scared?"

"Afraid? Me? Hahaha," Ding Ling almost laughed until tears streamed down his face, "Wang Liang, today I'll make your old man come and collect your corpse!"

As soon as he finished speaking, Ding Ling flipped and leaped onto the dueling platform, revealing a hidden blade sword adorned with tassels. The hilt was fiery red, like a burning sunset.

Although this sword is not on the list of famous swords, many people know its name because it was once the sword of Cloud Peak.

It's said to be the sword from the top of the clouds, but actually, it was just that he touched it back then, and that's how it became a blessed sword.

Compared to his precious sword, Wang Liang's sword seemed exceptionally ordinary.

If a disciple does not obtain a sword through a contract with a famous sword-making organization, the sect will uniformly issue longswords to its disciples. These swords are mass-produced, so their quality is questionable.

In the sword duel alone, Wang Liang lost completely.

Sure enough, as soon as Wang Liang drew his sword, the disciples below all booed him.

"Looks like Yun Fuzhao is going to lose the first match. Hahaha, luckily I bet on Senior Sister Yu to win."

"Oh no, oh no, I should have known better than to take such an unconventional approach. We're going to lose a lot of money now."

"Hahaha!"

Hearing the conversation among his disciples below the stage, Wang Liang remained calm and gripped his sword tightly.

Ding Ling wanted to finish the battle quickly, so he immediately unleashed his ultimate move, his sword flashing rapidly through the air as he spoke the word "kill".

A fierce killing intent suddenly swept towards him, and cracks appeared on the dueling platform.

Even standing outside, everyone felt an overwhelming chill. The disciples who were close by felt their faces itch a little, and then, a cut was made on their faces by the wind from the sword.

"Such a powerful sword wind! Is this the strength of the Golden Core stage?"

Wang Liang's expression was solemn. As he ran forward at top speed, he pushed off the ground with his left foot and leaped into the air, holding his long sword upright in front of him.

"Is he crazy? He wants to take this attack head-on?!"

"That's a killing move from a Golden Core cultivator!"

"boom!"

A tremendous crash resounded, and thick smoke billowed from the enormous arena, causing everyone to unconsciously hold their breath.

The room was so quiet you could hear a pin drop.

Ding Ling slowly sheathed his sword. He stood on the platform, looking down at Yun Fuzhao, a smirk playing on his lips. "You lost."

"……Who said that?"

A hoarse, raspy voice rang out.

Ding Ling looked on in disbelief.

Wang Liang's robes were mostly torn, his upper body was covered in bloodstains, and his face was covered in dust.

He spat out a mouthful of blood, his teeth were bright red.

Ding Ling narrowed his eyes, and a barrage of sword moves rained down like a storm! He forced Ding Ling to retreat repeatedly, suffering a miserable and bloody defeat.

Just as Wang Liang was about to fall off the platform, he suddenly plunged his sword into the platform and stomped out a huge pit with his feet.

Ding Ling scoffed, "A death throes."

He sheathed his sword, and his fists, as big as sandbags, pounded on him repeatedly.

Sword cultivators fight without swords, which is clearly a form of contempt for their enemies.

The disciples below the stage watched with great interest; it was a complete one-sided crushing defeat.

However, with each punch Ding Ling threw, Wang Liang's aura continued to rise.

"He broke through?!"

"Early stage of Spiritual Silence, Middle stage of Spiritual Silence, ... Late stage of Spiritual Silence!!!"

"what is happening!"

Yun Fuzhao chuckled. She had asked Wang Liang to suppress his cultivation from the very beginning, and this was the moment she had been waiting for.

Wang Liang swung his long sword and slashed down, forcing Ding Ling to retreat dozens of steps at lightning speed.

"Playing tricks!" Ding Ling's eyes flashed with killing intent. He took out his Hidden Blade Sword again and moved like lightning, suddenly approaching Wang Liang.

The latter met the attack without flinching, and amidst the flashing blades and the crisp, piercing sound of metal clashing.

Those with keen eyes recognized Wang Liang's sword technique: "Isn't this Heart-Snatching Annihilation?"

This sword technique is famous for its continuous and uninterrupted moves. Those who practice this sword technique must have a strong and stable foundation to continuously support the output of sword moves.

Ordinary cultivators would rather not encounter a disciple who practices this sword technique, because it is simply too troublesome.

Moreover, Wang Liang fought with a reckless, suicidal style.

The situation on the field was gradually turning around, and Ding Ling was starting to feel powerless, his hand holding the sword trembling slightly.

Having been harassed by such a piece of trash for so long, Ding Ling's anger burned fiercely. He cursed viciously, "Wang Liang, you beast, you stinking bug from the gutter, how dare you challenge me?! Die, die!"

His eyes were bloodshot, his swordplay was out of control, and he was hacking around like a headless fly.

At one point, Wang Liang saw through his weakness and suddenly slammed his fist into his stomach. The latter fell to the ground in pain, and his hidden blade sword slipped from his hand.

There was a burst of exclamation from the audience.

His punch was so heavy and vicious that it took Ding Ling, the pampered young master, a long time to get up.

Wang Liang wiped the blood from his face and, just as he had done to him earlier when Wang Liang humiliated him, sheathed his sword.

He walked step by step toward Dingling.

His eyes were calm as still water.

Ding Ling's heart pounded, and he began to threaten him, "You little brat, you dare touch me! I'll make sure your father dies a horrible death!"

Wang Liang paused in his steps.

Ding Ling thought his threat had worked, and he became smug again. "You bastard, born of a mother but raised without one! If you don't want your father to die a horrible death, you'd better kneel down and admit your mistake!"

Wang Liang clenched his fists tighter and tighter.

Almost all the outer disciples knew that Wang Liangniang died young, and he was raised by his father. What he cared about most was family.

Ding Ling used his father as a threat because he knew Ding Ling was filial.

Just when everyone thought he was going to do as Ding Ling said, Wang Liang paused for a moment and then continued forward.

The fist, as big as a sandbag, spun around and slammed into Ding Ling. A cracking sound, the sound of bone breaking, followed.

Wang Liang straddled him, punching him relentlessly, each blow landing squarely and even sending gusts of wind through the air.

At first, Ding Ling was unrepentant and insulted him, but later he couldn't even make a sound.

Yu Nian'er shouted, "Enough! He lost!"

Wang Liang seemed not to hear, like a ferocious beast that had lost its mind.

The last few inner disciples disregarded sect rules and forcibly pulled Wang Liang away. He easily broke free from their grasp, and this time he didn't continue, limping towards Yun Fuzhao.

Wang Liang's eyes were bloodshot, and his entire body was stained red with blood. Each step left a bloody footprint. He looked at Yun Fuzhao, his voice hoarse and strained.

But he slowly smiled, his eyes shining brightly, and said, "I won, Senior Sister Yun."