Li Zhexian's sword strike—
was so fast that it left behind only a single glimmering line of cold light.
The young masters of the Fire Leopard Sect and White Tiger Sect didn't even have time to show shock before their heads were separated from their bodies.
Before Hu Liena, however, a shield formed — woven from countless poisonous spiders — blocking the slash aimed at her.
With a graceful motion of her slender hand,
Bibi Dong summoned the spider swarm back, wrapping around Hu Liena and drawing her to her side.
"Li… Li Zhexian!"
Watching their most talented disciples die so casually before them, the eyes of the Fire Leopard Sect Master and the White Tiger Sect Master turned crimson with rage. Boundless Spirit Power exploded outward from their bodies.
But before that terrifying surge could even reach Li Zhexian—
Feng Bailong took one step forward, his fingers forming a sword gesture.
With a casual stroke through the air,
the wind turned into sword qi—
a whisper of breeze that brushed past.
And in that moment, both men's Spirit Power dissipated completely.
They staggered backward, blood trickling from the corners of their mouths.
"Feng Bailong, you—!"
This… was the gulf between a Spirit Douluo and a Titled Douluo.
Those who had not reached the Title realm were, in the end, nothing but insects.
Though hatred and humiliation boiled in their hearts,
under the cold gazes of the gathered Titled Douluos,
they could only clench their fists,
cast venomous looks toward Li Zhixian,
and retreat behind Pope Bibi Dong.
"Two days from now,"
Bibi Dong's cold, commanding voice rang out,
"is the Seven Sects Re-Selection Conference."
"If there are grudges to be settled—save them for the conference."
Her tone carried the unquestionable authority of the Pope,
instantly quelling all unrest.
Without another glance, she turned and left.
"Respectfully sending off Her Holiness the Pope!"
The entire hall bowed devoutly.
As Bibi Dong reached the ruined doorway of the tavern,
her steps paused slightly.
The sunlight traced the sharp, regal lines of her face.
"Li Zhexian," she said softly.
"You'll be attending the Seven Sects Conference, won't you?"
Li Zhexian replied,
"What does Your Holiness think?"
"Then do not disappoint me."
...
The venue for the Seven Sects Re-Selection Conference
was located at the base of Spirit City's divine mountain—
the grandest event on the continent.
That day,
Spirit City opened its gates to all.
Spirit Masters from both the Heaven Dou and Star Luo Empires were permitted to attend and observe.
At the foot of the divine mountain,
a magnificent plaza had been constructed over the past two months.
Paved entirely with white jade, it gleamed brilliantly beneath the sun. Banners of the Spirit Hall whipped in the wind, planted proudly at every corner.
Three thousand six hundred steps of white jade led directly to the seven seats at the center—reserved for the Seven Great Sects.
Beyond those, the surrounding seats formed a grand ring, like stars encircling the moon—these were for the lesser sects.
Outside the plaza,
a sea of people surged and murmured.
The quick-witted had already claimed high vantage points a day in advance,
allowing them a perfect view of the grand spectacle.
"This Seven Sects Conference will be extraordinary! They say the Clear Sky Clan plans to reemerge and reclaim its title as the strongest Tool-type Martial Soul on the continent!"
"And I heard the Sacred Banquet Pavilion was nearly destroyed recently—
that number one genius Li Zhexian, the top of the younger generation,
killed the heirs of both the Fire Leopard and White Tiger Sects!"
"I've heard he's even taking part in this Re-Selection!
But what role will he assume?"
"If Li Zhexian really has Titled Douluo-level power,
we'll see the truth at this conference!"
"And if he truly can rival the titled,
what title will he be given?"
A Spirit Master leaning against the drum tower's pillar glanced at the speakers,
unrolled a piece of scroll on his knee, and sighed:
"Still drafting a fitting title for Lord Sword Wine…"
"Sigh, hundreds of suggestions, each elegant and profound…"
"Truly difficult to decide!"
...
Amid the roaring discussion,
Pope Bibi Dong arrived—
escorted by Chrysanthemum Douluo, Ghost Douluo, Saintess Hu Liena, and a group of bishops—
and seated herself on the high throne.
Her appearance was greeted with thunderous cheers that echoed across the mountain.
Standing tall, Bibi Dong raised her voice—
gentle yet filled with majestic authority—
and, amplified by Spirit Power,
her words resounded throughout the entire city.
"Year 684 of the Spirit Hall Calendar…"
"For a century the continent has known peace, by the unity of the Spirit Hall, the two empires, and the Seven Great Sects."
"To maintain balance among the great powers and to further the prosperity of the continent, the Seven Sects Re-Selection Conference is hereby convened today."
As the Pope's voice faded—
Thunderous cheers erupted from the edges of the vast plaza.
At that very moment—
From three directions of the plaza,
dozens of figures stepped out in unison.
On a plaza spanning hundreds of acres, these figures looked no larger than grains of dust—
yet the instant their feet touched the jade floor, an overwhelming surge of aura rolled forth like a storm.
To the west—
Thunder rumbled and clouds gathered,
a blue-violet dragon of lightning coiling and roaring through the stormy sky.
To the east—
Seven-colored light bloomed;
a majestic Seven Treasures Glazed Pagoda stood tall,
flanked by a radiant sword and a bone dragon.
To the east, radiant hues of glass shone as a towering Seven Treasure Glazed Tile Pagoda stood firm, guarded by a sword and a bone dragon flanking its sides.
BOOM—!!!
Then came the heavy, earth-shaking tread of footsteps from the east.
Several towering figures appeared—
and the entire plaza trembled faintly beneath their presence.
Above, massive phantom hammers materialized,
looming like mountains in the heavens.
Their oppressive, domineering aura swept across the land—
and even the white jade tiles underfoot cracked inch by inch.
The dark clouds were blasted apart,
the lightning dragon let out a pained roar and began to dissipate.
The pagoda's glow flickered;
the sword and dragon's light dimmed.
"Hahahaha!"
A booming laugh thundered like a great bell, shaking eardrums and hearts alike.
"Chen Xin, Gu Rong, Sect Master Ning—and you old dragon—how have you been?"
Seeing the five burly figures in grey robes, Ning Fengzhi, Chen Xin, Gu Rong, and Yu Yuanzhen were visibly stunned.
"The five elders of the Clear Sky Clan—appearing together?!"
"Five Titled Douluo!?"
Outside the plaza,
the countless spectators stared up at the sky,
their faces drained of color in shock and awe.
"The Clear Sky Clan has truly reemerged!"
"Five Titled Douluo—rightfully the number one sect under heaven!"
"So this is the heritage of the Clear Sky Clan… But why did they vanish from the world all those years ago?"
"And that youth walking beside them—who is he?
A hidden prodigy of the Clear Sky Sect?
How does he compare to Li Zhexian?"
"Oh, that one? Twin Martial Souls—but he's already been defeated by Li Zhexian!"
The three Upper Sects took their seats among the seven.
Their presence radiated power—unyielding, defiant even before the high seat of Spirit Hall.
As the Clear Sky elders passed by, they even let out mocking chuckles without restraint.
Bibi Dong sat motionless upon her throne.
Her peerless face was veiled behind twelve cascading strands of jade beads—
no one could see her expression.
With the Upper Three settled, it was time for the Lower Four to take the stage.
From the remaining four approaches—
Groups of figures stepped onto the jade plaza.
And then—
The entire city fell silent.
From the southeast—
A procession of swordsmen in azure robes advanced, long swords upon their backs, eyes bound in black silk.
A gust swept through—black silk fluttered like banners of death, austere and magnificent.
At their head was a gaunt old man, gliding forward upon the wind.
Beside him walked a young man in white robes, an ancient green sword embroidered upon his chest—handsome, sharp, serene.
He too wore a black silk across his eyes, the gleam of his sword flashing faintly at his side.
Even standing several meters apart, the old man and the white-clad youth walked side by side, perfectly in step.
Across the silent plaza—
Ning Fengzhi's voice rang out, full of admiration and emotion:
"Li Zhexian of the Wind Sword Sect…
Chief Sword Elder—equal in rank to Sect Master Feng Bailong."
Pffft—!
A nearly inaudible sound cracked through the air.
One of the twelve hanging jade strands before Bibi Dong's face
was seared through and snapped by her own fiery gaze.
Her purple eyes locked onto the white-robed youth climbing the steps—
and within them, a tangible wave of killing intent surged and boiled.
"Li Zhexian…"
"So you came after all."