Without looking at anyone, Ouyang Feng instantly arrived at the site of the earlier battle. His eyes half-closed, he stood as still as a mountain. He wore an unhurried expression, as if waiting for them. His aura of assured victory was oppressive at first glance.
On the martial platform, Guo Jing and the others indeed felt oppressed. "The final match is indeed Ouyang Feng. Now that his mind has recovered, he will be even harder to deal with. Moreover, his poison is impossible to guard against. The poison that Venerable Vajra used to harm Master Xuan Cheng likely came from him," Huang Rong said in a low voice.
The others nodded silently. Who didn't know the name of Ouyang Feng, the Western Venom? Strictly speaking, in the second Five Greats' Mount Hua Sword Tournament over a decade ago, Ouyang Feng had taken first place. But he had gone mad, so the news never spread. Still, most of those present knew at least a little of the hidden truth. Leaving aside his formidable strength, his reputation for poison alone was enough to instill fear. Even the most restless Zhou Botong merely opened his mouth, muttered a few words softly, and didn't leap out. That old poison master was the most terrifying.
"Don't worry. No matter what, this old beggar won't let him win," Hong Qigong said seriously, his tone carrying a faint, almost imperceptible resolve.
"Master!" Guo Jing spoke with concern.
Huang Rong frowned slightly and sent a private message to Hong Qigong, speaking earnestly: "Seventh Elder, Ouyang Feng's recovery of his senses this time was likely orchestrated by the Mongols. His involvement now may be partly to repay that favor, and partly to take revenge on me. But he may not be without weaknesses. The Nine Yin Manual has been his obsession for years. This battle is of great importance, Seventh Elder. Perhaps you could try using the Nine Yin Manual."
Hong Qigong frowned deeply upon hearing this. She was suggesting he strike a secret deal with Ouyang Feng, using the Nine Yin Manual to make him withdraw. By his nature, that was absolutely unacceptable. But this battle was indeed critical, and personal pride had to take a back seat. So he found himself torn.
After hesitating for half a breath, he said solemnly, "I'll handle it as I see fit." With that, he stepped before Ouyang Feng in everyone's view. With great gravity, he said, "Old poison master, this fight will be between this old beggar and you."
Ouyang Feng opened his eyes, his calm voice naturally carrying a heavy, oppressive pressure. "Old beggar, it's been years. It seems today we'll settle things."
"Haha, good." Hong Qigong laughed heartily, his bold spirit rising. As his voice fell, the surrounding atmosphere seemed to freeze.
"Roar~!" "Croak~!"
The next moment, a faint dragon's roar echoed, and a red dragon shadow danced around Hong Qigong as he struck a palm toward Ouyang Feng. The dragon shadow was fierce, exuding an upright and imposing aura.
Green power surged from Ouyang Feng, and faintly, the image of a motionless toad appeared. When still, it was unmoving; when it moved, it was earth-shattering. The two equally formidable forces clashed without any pretense.
"Boom!" Red and green light exploded, painting the sky. The sheer force was no weaker than the earlier clash between Xuan Cheng and Venerable Vajra. It seemed the two knew each other intimately, so there was no probing—they went all out from the start. The spectacle was terrifying.
All eyes were fixed on them, unblinking, even more tense than the previous two matches.
In the woods, Li Daoqiang watched with great interest. Ouyang Feng's condition, and Hong Qigong's Eighteen Dragon Subduing Palms—both intrigued him. He gave Ouyang Feng a deep look, his mind stirring. Then he shifted his gaze to Hong Qigong, nodding inwardly. This was the pinnacle of the Eighteen Dragon Subduing Palms, and he had walked far along that path. Though different from his own Dragon Subduing True Intent, it was still worth observing.
After a dozen breaths, he understood, and a flicker of hesitation crossed his mind. He glanced at Fang Yeyu and the others, then at the six figures in the distant sky. After a moment's thought, he curled his lip slightly.
"Wait here." Leaving those words, Li Daoqiang's figure vanished. Ding Chunqiu and the others were puzzled but had no chance to ask. They could only heighten their vigilance, watching their surroundings.
A dozen breaths later, almost everyone's attention remained on the battle between Ouyang Feng and Hong Qigong. Li Daoqiang appeared elsewhere, looking at a familiar figure not far away. A faint smile tugged at his lips. *Bad luck for you.* Without rushing, he turned his gaze to the two figures clashing in midair.
By now, amidst the continuous thunderous sounds, Hong Qigong and Ouyang Feng had clashed hundreds of times. Their terrifying power churned the spiritual energy for miles around. Invisible currents became visible, like two great vortexes constantly colliding and devouring each other. At the very center were the red and green figures.
"Boom!" Dragon roar and toad croak vied for dominance, neither yielding. Another deafening collision occurred. They channeled their inner strength, their auras growing fiercer, preparing for the next clash.
Suddenly, Ouyang Feng's voice rang out. "Old beggar, how about a deal?" Ouyang Feng's lips didn't move, but his voice was clear. It was confined to just him and Hong Qigong, shattered by their power the moment it left that range.
Hong Qigong's heart stirred, instinctively recalling Huang Rong's words. He replied calmly, "What deal?"
"The importance of this battle is clear to all. You can't afford to lose. Give me the true Nine Yin Manual, and I'll fight you to a draw—neither of us wins, both injured," Ouyang Feng said evenly.
Hong Qigong felt a surge of amusement. *Rong'er was right.* Even now, the old poison master was still obsessed with the Nine Yin Manual. Then he grew serious, setting aside thoughts of victory or pride. As Ouyang Feng said, he couldn't afford to lose this battle. After a moment's hesitation, he made up his mind. Solemnly, he said, "I can give you the Nine Yin Manual, but you must agree to two conditions."
"Name them." Ouyang Feng showed no urgency.
"First, withdraw immediately and stop meddling in this matter. Second, never again aid any non-Han nations like the Mongols or Jurchens," Hong Qigong said earnestly.
Ouyang Feng's expression didn't change, but his tone grew heavier. "The second condition is acceptable. But the first—I owe the Mongols a great favor and must repay it. Fighting you to a draw is fine, but walking away outright—I can't do that."
Hong Qigong frowned slightly. The old poison master wasn't one to harm his own interests to repay a favor. Then it dawned on him. This matter was too important; the Mongols were watching with their top experts. If Ouyang Feng dared to just leave, the Mongols wouldn't let it slide.
After a moment's thought, he said, "Then change the first condition to you losing to this old beggar." As he spoke, he felt embarrassed. In all his years, this was the first time he'd proposed rigging a match. Just thinking about it made him ashamed.
"Hmph." Ouyang Feng snorted coldly, displeasure in his eyes. "Old beggar, do you think I'd lose to you?"
"Why not? This old beggar is no weaker than you." Hong Qigong's pride and defiance were stirred. After decades of rivalry, how could he admit defeat or bow his head?
"Enough. The Mongols won't believe it." Ouyang Feng suppressed his competitive spirit, speaking calmly.
Hong Qigong also calmed down, saying seriously, "A draw won't do. It will still dampen our alliance's morale."
"A draw with no clear winner is enough," Ouyang Feng insisted.
"No." Hong Qigong was unwilling to leave loose ends, firmly opposing.
"It seems you've forgotten our past battles," Ouyang Feng said, eyes narrowing meaningfully.
"Heh, then let's try it." Hong Qigong's spirit rose, showing no weakness.
Without further words, they clashed even more fiercely. Clearly, the two couldn't agree for now, so they'd let strength decide. Then one side would have to yield.
The battle grew more intense, drawing all eyes even tighter.
Li Daoqiang watched from his new spot for a while, then his gaze sharpened as he shifted direction. The next moment, his figure vanished.
Just as nearly everyone was fixated on Ouyang Feng and Hong Qigong— Suddenly— "Boom!" A roar no weaker than theirs erupted from a mountain peak twenty miles away. Instantly, all eyes turned in shock.
"Li Daoqiang! What are you doing?" The next moment, a furious yet deeply wary voice shot into the sky. It stirred up a storm. Even Ouyang Feng and Hong Qigong slowed their fight to look.
*Black Dragon Stronghold's Li Daoqiang!* Ordinary martial artists couldn't see clearly, but for Xiantian and Grandmasters, it was no problem. Their faces turned grave and surprised as they looked over.
In the distant sky, the six figures also showed varying degrees of shock.
At the site of the explosion, a towering figure stood like a mountain. Before him, a figure in deep green armor, pale-faced and bloodied at the mouth, fled madly into the distance.
"Geshu Tian, have you forgotten what you did so quickly?" Li Daoqiang's tone was cold and stern, his gaze indifferent. As his voice faded, a giant hand descended from the sky. A massive palm print appeared above Geshu Tian's head, its suffocating force freezing him in place. Unable to flee or speak, he summoned dense demonic flames, raising his hands to resist with difficulty.
"Boom!" With a thunderous crash, Geshu Tian was slammed into the mountainside like a meteor. The slope collapsed with a roar, as if a dragon had turned over, shaking even the martial platform.
Before the shock could settle, Li Daoqiang raised an eyebrow, a hint of interest flickering in his eyes. He reached out toward the empty space to his left. Over a hundred zhang away, a ripple appeared in the air, and Geshu Tian's figure emerged. His aura, despite the earlier blow, seemed even stronger now.
"What did I do?" Geshu Tian's face was flushed, his aura fiercer, shouting with unwilling fury. At the same time, he turned to block the overwhelming force surging toward him.
Li Daoqiang sneered coldly, saying nothing, but pressed down harder with his palm.
(Chapter 1, thanks for your support.) ······