Chapter 132: Clearing the Level

"The feeling is mutual," Shen Qingyun said calmly. "Since this is the final stage, you might as well all come at me together. Let's not waste everyone's time."

Those among the top ranks of the seven palaces who were unfamiliar with Shen Qingyun stared at him, their expressions darkening. Arrogance should have its limits.

"Do as you wish; I shall go first!" As Zhan Yan spoke, a strange aura emerged around him. His body became like a blade drawn from its scabbard, rushing toward Shen Qingyun with fierce, overbearing momentum.

Feng Chuxun moved to intervene, but Shen Qingyun reached out to stop him. "He has mastered the intent of the blade. You are no match for him."

Hearing this, Feng Chuxun halted, his eyes narrowing slightly. No wonder things felt off; it was blade intent. Sword intent was light and sharp, while blade intent was heavy, yet possessed a force capable of shaking mountains.

Looking at Shen Qingyun again, he appeared calm and indifferent, looking entirely at ease—there was no sign of the tension or urgency one would expect when facing a formidable foe.

Upon reaching Shen Qingyun, Zhan Yan stomped heavily on the ground, creating spiderweb-like cracks before vaulting into the air. Blade intent billowed from his body, as if he intended to cleave Shen Qingyun in two.

Shen Qingyun looked up indifferently, sword intent shooting from his eyes and shattering Zhan Yan’s blade intent.

Zhan Yan paused in mid-air as a great broadsword appeared in his grasp. The shattered spiritual energy surged forth once more, and his body suddenly accelerated in a downward strike, unleashing a thousand flashes of blade light.

Shen Qingyun reached out and grasped the void; a halberd manifested instantly. He raised a finger, and endless sword intent poured from the tip. Zhan Yan let out a low growl as the broadsword collided with the halberd's point. Upon landing, he channeled his energy frantically into his blade. Yet, the blade intent and light were continuously annihilated, hemmed in by the lingering, endless sword intent of Shen Qingyun.

"Your blade intent has not reached perfection. If you continue like this, your will may become exhausted and damaged, making further progress difficult," Shen Qingyun remarked lightly.

Zhan Yan’s brow furrowed as he stared intently at Shen Qingyun.

"Even so, I cannot retreat!" Zhan Yan replied. He pulled back, his blade intent surging again as he slashed through the air toward Shen Qingyun.

Shen Qingyun threw the halberd, accompanied by an endless stream of sword intent.

The two violent forces collided in the void, ultimately annihilating each other.

The onlookers’ pupils constricted, their eyes filled with shock. He had actually thrown his weapon away!

As if reading their thoughts, He Ming yawned and said, "What are you thinking? His weapon is formed from spiritual energy; as long as his energy doesn't run dry, he can have as many as he wants." The people around him looked at him with skepticism.

Watching their disbelieving expressions, He Ming silently grumbled, *Such narrow-minded fools.*

Zhan Yan’s face turned pale. He walked back to his team without a word and, under the gaze of the crowd, sat cross-legged to recover his consumed energy.

Seeing that even Zhan Yan could not crush this man—though technically not defeated—was enough to prove a great deal.

Only Zhan Yan knew the truth: their collision had been purely of intent. His blade intent was far inferior to Shen Qingyun’s sword intent. His own spiritual energy hadn't even been depleted; it was the excessive drain on his mental intent that left him feeling so unwell.

Shen Qingyun’s expression remained indifferent. His sword intent seemed inexhaustible; even now, it still swirled around his body.

"Let me challenge you."

A figure darted from the crowd and said to Shen Qingyun, "Wang Hu, third of the Zixiao Second Palace. Please, enlighten me!"

Wang Hu’s face was grave; he was prepared to give his all, only to be met with Shen Qingyun’s indifference.

As if he hadn't seen him at all, Shen Qingyun addressed those hesitating in the crowd: "I said it before—all of you, come together. That way, you might last a little longer."

"Arrogant!" The people of Zixiao glared with cold, gloomy expressions. "We saw that the two of you were outnumbered, so we chose one-on-one combat to spare you from exhaustion."

"Fighting you all, what little energy I expend hardly counts as exhaustion," Shen Qingyun replied calmly.

"Such contempt! Everyone, attack together!" someone in the crowd shouted coldly.

"I will use wind-attribute spells to help you stay airborne," several people called out simultaneously.

The vast majority were indignant and prepared to strike, but some remained still—namely, He Ming and his companions, who had crossed paths with Shen Qingyun in the forest.

Many, bolstered by wind-attribute spells, took to the air, stepping through the void.

Shen Qingyun’s body rose slowly as well, supported by an endless sea of sword intent that lifted him into the sky. Countless golden swords appeared around him, all shimmering with sword intent, appearing as real as true blades.

Below, Feng Chuxun’s pupils contracted slightly, realizing that these, too, were manifestations of Shen Qingyun’s spiritual energy. To use such a massive array of golden swords against these people was truly overkill.

"Go."

Shen Qingyun pointed forward. In an instant, countless golden swords, carrying sharp, piercing intent, whistled toward those flying in the air. The sharp blades seemed intent on tearing through their defenses and piercing their chests.

Seeing the golden swords whistling toward them, their expressions shifted. They hastily formed hand seals, and spells manifested above their heads. Each spell collided with a golden sword, resulting in the mutual destruction of both.

Seeing this, the corners of Shen Qingyun’s lips curled up. Around him, new golden swords manifested, and with another flick of his finger, they whistled forth once more.

Seeing this, the crowd below shouted, "Everyone, cast your spells!"

Spells surged from below to relieve the pressure on those above. One spell could neutralize one golden sword, but Shen Qingyun’s sword count was far too high. They were forced to cast spells incessantly just to keep the blades at bay.

With support from below, the pressure on those in the air eased slightly.

However, Shen Qingyun’s swords seemed limitless; as many as they destroyed, he immediately replenished.

This left them feeling desperate. The consumption of energy from just casting spells was not a small amount over time. Besides, at this rate, they would be drained dry sooner or later!

Shen Qingyun’s indifferent demeanor clearly proved that he had not yet unleashed his full strength.

*Is this really not some old monster reincarnated?* someone roared internally. Everything about Shen Qingyun was simply not something a Foundation Establishment cultivator should possess.

The events since Shen Qingyun reached the fifth stage replayed in their minds.

They realized with despair that, facing such a Shen Qingyun, they could do nothing but defend.

The golden swords merged with the sword intent, transforming into a terrifying storm. Shen Qingyun stepped into the center of the gale, becoming one with it.

The storm enveloped those in the air. From the outside, there was nothing but a golden vortex; the people were no longer visible.

"Admit defeat, or we shall continue this game," Shen Qingyun’s voice, calm to the point of chilling, emanated from the storm, shaking everyone to their core.

"I admit defeat!" Both those in the storm and those below shouted the words, filled with unwillingness. The next moment, the golden storm dissipated into nothingness, revealing the figures within.

Zhan Yan looked up at Shen Qingyun, who stood with his hands behind his back, his expression as indifferent as if he had just performed a trivial task. Despite his frustration, he had to admit he was no match.

What is invincibility? This is it.

They, students of the Zixiao Academy, had been in a state of inevitable defeat before they even had the chance to release their spiritual manifestations—and they hadn't even realized it.

Shen Qingyun descended slowly from the sky. Upon landing, he exhaled a breath of stale air, turned to Feng Chuxun, and said with a faint smile, "Let's go."