Ancient Sword Tomb Chapter Forty-One The Key

However, from Qing Xingyue's words, it seemed that Luo Chen could sense Qing Xingyue's doubts regarding the tragedy that occurred overnight so many years ago. In fact, Qing Xingyue appeared to believe more strongly that it was the result of human machination. After all, nearly a thousand years ago, the Tianqing Palace was a supreme sanctuary for cultivation, standing above both the Heavenly Pool Holy Land and the Heavenly Sword Hall. It would not be an exaggeration to call it the most powerful force on the Tianqing Continent.

Yet, Luo Chen suddenly thought of another issue: if Qing Xingyue truly intended to revive the Academy under the name of Tianqing Palace, then it would be necessary to thoroughly investigate that nearly millennium-old incident and provide the world with an explanation. However, to do so would require a bait—and that bait would be himself.

At this thought, Luo Chen felt a cold sweat break out across his body. No wonder he had always sensed something was amiss; so this old fellow had planned it all along, and after so much, he was still but cannon fodder. A thousand years had passed, and if indeed someone had once feared Tianqing Kong—or, more precisely, the power of the former leader of the Eight Pavilions—then Qing Xingyue’s public revelation of his identity would surely stir others who could not resist.

No wonder Baili Qingtian had once warned him, “Beyond the Ninefold Pass, even the winds and clouds change color!” After all, the strongest being of the Mortal Domain three centuries ago, the Imperial Emperor of the Heavens, only achieved his strength after leaving the same abyss as himself.

Gradually, Luo Chen understood: it was not the power of the Thunder Pavilion that others feared, but rather the possibility of a person once again rising to become the strongest in the Mortal Domain.

“Alright, Feichen, I’ve said everything I needed to say. Whether this competition continues is up to your Heavenly Sword Hall,” Qing Xingyue said, looking at Jian Feichen, whose form seemed dazed. With that, he slowly sat down. Luo Chen glanced at Jian Feichen, then turned his gaze to Dongfang Haoran.

“Brother Haoran, shall we continue the fight?”

After Luo Chen spoke, Dongfang Haoran steadied himself, touched the peerless hammer in his hand, and smiled at Luo Chen.

“Why not? To have a match with a worthy opponent, one I’ve longed for—this chance I would never let slip.”

Luo Chen hadn’t expected Dongfang Haoran to recover so swiftly, as if unaffected by earlier events. This made Luo Chen feel a wave of admiration, for everyone knew that the outcome of continuing the battle was inevitable, yet perhaps, as Dongfang Haoran said, to have a thorough fight with a satisfactory opponent would leave no regrets, even in defeat.

“Nameless—no, Brother Luo Chen, before we fight, can you grant me a request?”

“Please, Brother Haoran.”

After Luo Chen spoke, he saw Dongfang Haoran close his eyes and take a deep breath, hesitating for several moments. When he opened his eyes again, he looked at the peerless hammer in his hands and said:

“I hope you will fight me with your full strength, Brother Luo Chen. Let me see the gap between us.”

After hearing this, Luo Chen understood. Facing a stronger opponent without discouragement or surrender, using that opponent to discover one’s own shortcomings—Dongfang Haoran was indeed someone worth befriending. Since he could be a friend, Luo Chen could agree to this condition, but...

Luo Chen couldn’t help but raise his hand and look at it. To speak of full strength, he himself had never truly unleashed it; counting up to today, he had really only fought four or five times. He still couldn’t control his power well—what if he overdid it and seriously injured Dongfang Haoran? That wouldn’t sit well with him. Thinking this, Luo Chen absentmindedly scratched his head.

“Uh... Brother Haoran, I’ve never really fought with all my strength before. If I hurt you...”

Qing Xingyue’s lips twitched at Luo Chen’s words. “Just fight, boy, enough with the nonsense.” Yet Qing Xingyue also showed a hint of curiosity, for he had never witnessed Luo Chen’s true power. He couldn’t help but look forward to the chance.

“No worries. Just don’t kill me, Brother Luo Chen.”

Luo Chen rolled his eyes at this answer, which seemed to have no limits at all. Just as he was feeling troubled, Dongfang Haoran’s aura surged beneath him, and he swung the peerless hammer at Luo Chen once more. This time, Luo Chen didn’t plan to take it head-on; instead, he activated the power of thunder and quickly retreated.

With a deafening crash and a vast shockwave sweeping across the arena, Luo Chen looked at the spot where the peerless hammer struck. Another deep pit had formed. Luo Chen glanced at Jian Feichen and the hall master’s expressions—this was no longer a competition, it was a demolition!

But Dongfang Haoran charged forward again. Luo Chen, feeling helpless, leapt directly into the air.

“Water’s Zenith: Furious Waves!”

As Luo Chen spoke, his figure in the air was instantly enveloped by terrifying water elements. Moments later, a towering wave dozens of meters high rose beneath him. Luo Chen stood atop the crest, his feet planted on a sapphire array, his gaze fixed on Dongfang Haoran.

With a thought, Luo Chen flashed backward, and the massive wave crashed down, surging straight toward Dongfang Haoran, engulfing everything in its path. After a few breaths, Luo Chen stood not far away, watching as the wave dissipated and Dongfang Haoran emerged. Dongfang Haoran knelt on one knee, gripping the peerless hammer with both hands, raising his head with difficulty to meet Luo Chen’s gaze, then smiling faintly.

“Now it’s my turn, Brother Luo Chen.”

Luo Chen saw Dongfang Haoran slowly rise, his aura exploding as he tossed the peerless hammer into the air. Dongfang Haoran leapt after it, and when he caught the hammer midair, Luo Chen sensed something amiss. The scattered stones on the plaza began to rise inexplicably, and a massive storm formed above Dongfang Haoran.

As the storm took shape, the stones and dust around Luo Chen spun rapidly, gathering at Dongfang Haoran’s side and condensing into dozens of stone pillars. Dongfang Haoran smiled, and Luo Chen felt a pang of unease.

“Destruction: Shooting Stars!”

Dongfang Haoran swung the peerless hammer down again, but this time, dozens of stone pillars plummeted like meteors. For a moment, Luo Chen felt as if the world itself was about to be destroyed. He moved his hands.

“Wind’s Zenith: Shadow Escape!”

With a whirlwind, Luo Chen vanished. The next moment, the stone pillars crashed into the arena, sending a massive cloud of dust billowing skyward.

“You two brats! Are you trying to tear down my Heavenly Sword Hall?”

With Jian Feichen’s furious shout, everyone burst into laughter. Before the dust settled, Luo Chen reappeared above the plaza. He looked down at the ruined arena and changed his hand gesture. Instantly, a vast black storm covered the sky, followed by howling winds.

In a flash, all the dust on the plaza was swept away. Everyone looked up at the storm, where lightning began to crackle and surge. As the terrifying thunder gathered, Qing Xingyue’s face darkened; he waved his hand, and a barrier dozens of meters high rose along the edge of the plaza before the Viewing Pavilion.

“Thunder’s Zenith: Dark Lightning!”

At Luo Chen’s command, hundreds of bolts of lightning crashed down from the storm centered on him, covering the entire plaza. After ten breaths of relentless thunder, Luo Chen slowly descended as the storm dissipated.

At the edge of the plaza, Luo Chen saw Dongfang Haoran kneeling again, supporting himself with the peerless hammer. Dongfang Haoran’s clothes were tattered, his face pale, with blood seeping from the corner of his mouth. The plaza was ravaged, with hardly a spot left intact.

Luo Chen shook his head helplessly. Thankfully, he hadn’t used all his spiritual power—otherwise, Dongfang Haoran would have to be carried out. Luo Chen walked over, handed him a pill for rapid recovery, watched Dongfang Haoran swallow it and slowly rise, then smiled.

“Brother Haoran, thank you for the match!”

“Brother Luo Chen, no need to be so modest. I believe that wasn’t your full strength, was it?”

Luo Chen scratched his head awkwardly. Since Dongfang Haoran had seen through it, there was no need to say more. Then he heard applause rising from the crowd.

“Magnificent! Since I assumed the position of hall master, I have never witnessed such a spectacular duel between the younger generation. Truly, a feast for the eyes.”

With the Heavenly Sword Hall master’s voice sounding from nearby, Luo Chen and Dongfang Haoran looked toward the main hall. Luo Chen saw the hall master’s delighted expression—so even this lofty master could smile. Luo Chen had always thought him cold and stern.

“The hall master hereby announces: The champion of this Holy Land Trial Individual Competition is Luo Chen of Tianqing Academy!”

At the announcement, Luo Chen turned to look at the members of Tianqing Academy, who nodded in acknowledgment. Yet Luo Chen was puzzled, for he did not see Qing Xuan Yu or his own figure among them.

“Luo Chen, this belongs to you.”

As he turned, the hall master tossed him a short sword gleaming with silver light. Luo Chen caught it and examined it: less than a foot long, its blade shone with silver, and mysterious inscriptions—unfamiliar to him—were etched on both sides, each completely different.

“Hall master, what is this?”

“Luo Chen, this is the key to the formation of the Ancient Sword Tomb Secret Realm. I give it to you now. Later, simply engrave your soul imprint upon the inscription array on the sword, and it will belong to you. But remember: for the next hundred years, you must safeguard this key.”