Chapter 188

Chapter 188: With strength like this, how could he be her Eldest Senior Brother?

Feng He Yun roared: “Flying Cloud Sect has her father, her Master, and her Senior Brother. She will always be one of us! We will never let her join a sect like Ninghua Sect!”

He shouted again, voice hoarse with anger: “She is so gifted. What do you have to raise her well? Joining Ninghua Sect will only grind down her talent!”

The Flowing Cloud Sword Method swept out with a free and dashing flair, and with Feng He Yun’s near-mad state, his power rose another level.

Feng He Yun slashed forward and snarled: “Where she stays is not for you to decide!”

Ye Huai’s gaze stayed cold as he answered, voice like ice: “When you drove her out back then, did you ever worry that you were the ones crushing her talent?”

His sword light tightened as he pressed in: “Since you all decided Bai Mu Mu was your real Junior Sister and hurt Shen Sang Ruo again and again, why keep pestering her now?”

Ye Huai moved with blistering speed, the Nether Shadow Sword leaving streaks of afterimages.

That last sentence stabbed some hidden sore. Feng He Yun’s voice jumped several pitches as he snapped: “What do you know! We were blinded by Bai Mu Mu before. Because of many misunderstandings, we did those things that hurt Shen Sang Ruo!”

He gritted out, more stubborn than ashamed: “And Shen Sang Ruo wasn’t completely blameless either, but now we’re willing to accept everything about her, as long as she comes back.”

He shouted with fierce certainty: “Only Shen Sang Ruo is our truly cherished Junior Sister. If she returns to Flying Cloud Sect, we’ll treat her like we did at the start!”

Then he added, breath ragged and eyes wild: “No, not just that. We’ll make it up to her double! You people won’t matter anymore!”

Hearing this, Ye Huai’s brows knit.

He left Bai Mu Mu’s character unjudged, but all those wounds were dealt by them, and still Feng He Yun pushed all the blame onto Bai Mu Mu so easily. It was plain they had never reflected on their own actions.

Whether toward Shen Sang Ruo or Bai Mu Mu, they had never treated either with real care.

Ye Huai looked straight at Feng He Yun. From that face he saw only hypocrisy, and he said, voice flat as a blade: “A wound is a wound. No amount of making up can erase the scar.”

His sword swept out. Feng He Yun dodged in time, yet the tip brushed his neck, leaving a thin red line that bled in threads.

Ye Huai’s tone stayed icy: “You don’t know her at all. She will not turn back.”

Whether from those words or the sting at his throat, Feng He Yun exploded in fury. Every strike lunged for Ye Huai’s vital points, his eyes flooded with killing intent.

He spat through his teeth: “We lived with her for over ten years. Whether we know her, do you really think you get to judge? How long have you even known her?”

He slashed again and barked: “Hand her over! Otherwise Flying Cloud Sect will not be polite. Think carefully. What do you have to fight Flying Cloud Sect with?”

Last night, Shen Dao Chen and Master Ling Xiao had already said they would do whatever it took to bring Shen Sang Ruo back to Flying Cloud Sect. In their eyes, no matter how dazzling Ninghua Sect looked in this Sect Grand Tournament, its size and heritage were still less than a hundredth of Flying Cloud Sect’s. If Ninghua Sect went up against Flying Cloud Sect, it would be like an egg striking a rock.

Feng He Yun sneered as he thrust: “So choose. Will you keep your little sect intact, or keep Shen Sang Ruo?”

His Flowing Cloud Sword stabbed straight for Ye Huai’s heart.

Ye Huai’s eyes darkened. He reversed his grip and drove the Nether Shadow Sword forward, meeting the strike head-on.

The two sword tips crashed together. Sword qi ripped the air into rippling gusts, and the pressure bowed both blades.

They strained for a breath, then broke apart, each retreating a few steps. Ye Huai steadied first and came on again, sword light pressing like the tide: “If she wants to stay in Ninghua Sect, then even if we pour out everything, we will fight Flying Cloud Sect to the end.”

He struck once more, voice ringing clear: “All of us, even Ninghua Sect itself, were saved by her. You think we would abandon her just to save ourselves?”

His gaze sharpened to a point: “If you want a fight, then fight. We won’t fear your threats.”

Feng He Yun had no time to puzzle out that second line. The Nether Shadow Sword, cold and ghostly, was already in front of his chest. He twisted aside, but the keen edge still sliced his arm, blood soaking the sleeve at once. The sword qi on the Nether Shadow Sword felt even more forceful now.

“Damn!” he hissed, teeth clenched.

He glared at Ye Huai as if he could devour him.

He laughed in rage: “Fine! I’ll take care of you today. Then I’ll settle accounts with Ninghua Sect. Let’s see how long you can keep that hard mouth!”

He yanked out a wine jar from somewhere, took a great swig, then sprayed it over the Flowing Cloud Sword.

A mist of liquor wrapped the blade. As if strengthened by the burning brew, the sword’s aura surged, hard and sharp enough to see.

Ye Huai’s eyes stayed calm as ever, his lips pressed into a thin line.

He drove his own art. The Nether Shadow Sword thrummed and thrummed. If one listened closely, that hum sounded like a soft series of cat cries.

Both sides’ aura peaked.

The watching Cultivators guessed this would be the final clash. They stared wide, unwilling to blink and miss anything.

Feng He Yun poured out everything he had with one cut. His fierce sword qi roared like thunder, like a strike that would tear through flowing clouds and lance the sky. Wherever the sword light passed, even the special-material arena floor was gouged with a deep channel, and it drove straight at Ye Huai.

Ye Huai stood tall. Against Feng He Yun’s raging force, he remained calm as still water from beginning to end.

In his hand, the Nether Shadow Sword swung with afterimages. All the gathered force narrowed to the very tip, and then he thrust.

From that tip, Sword Intent burst forth and took form as a snow-white cat with nine tails.

Cries shot up around the arena: “Sword Spirit! That’s Ye Huai’s Sword Spirit! He’s already cultivated a Sword Spirit!”

On the high dais, Shen Dao Chen and Master Ling Xiao, faces tight a moment before, curled their hands into fists; surprise flashed through their half-squinted eyes. The Ninghua Sect side broke into smiles. This round was decided.

You You, many times larger than usual, lunged with a hunter’s grace. Its huge vertical pupils pressured the air itself. It pounced at the shocked Feng He Yun, and its claws shredded his slash to powder in an instant. The Nine-Lives Spirit Cat vanished on contact, turning into a storm of savage sword qi.

Before Feng He Yun could react, his body was already flying. Agony tore through his chest. Blood slid from the corner of his mouth as he skidded to a stop at the very edge of the arena.

He could no longer fight.

He tried to force himself up, but a sharp sword tip touched his throat. Half a step more would cost him his life.

Ye Huai walked up, looking down with cool, distant eyes.

His voice held no warmth and a faint scorn as he said: “With strength like this, how could you be her Eldest Senior Brother?”

A low buzz seemed to snap inside Feng He Yun’s skull. Something broke.