Without waiting for Song Yun’s response, Zhe Sang leaped onto the cloud platform.
As he landed, Chong Zhao appeared on the platform as well. He had always been of noble birth in the mortal world, and now, imbued with immortal energy, he stood radiant in his immortal robes, a picture of elegance. Many of the female disciples gazed at him with admiration.
Er Yun landed beside Song Yun, her gaze also fixed on Chong Zhao.
Chong Zhao’s arrival captured everyone’s attention, filling Zhe Sang with envy and resentment. He concealed it, but his words were sharp. "It’s been years since I last saw you, Junior Brother, and your charisma surpasses even before. You truly are the pride of Miao Miao."
"Greetings, Senior Brother." Chong Zhao addressed him with a respectful bow. "It’s good to have you back. Master and all the senior disciples have missed you. Now that you’ve returned, I am willing to assist you in restoring our sect."
Zhe Sang, as Song Yun’s direct disciple, was almost like a son to him. If Zhe Sang didn’t push things too far, Chong Zhao had no desire to disrupt the harmony of the sect.
"Junior Brother, spare me the formalities. You know well how I lost to you two years ago. Today, I’ve returned to reclaim my rightful place. No need for any false courtesy on your part."
With a sneer, Zhe Sang unsheathed his immortal sword, pointing it directly at Chong Zhao. "Let Senior Brother see how much you’ve improved in these past two years. This time, you won’t have that herb healer to help you!"
As soon as he finished speaking, Zhe Sang unleashed his sword energy, aiming straight at Chong Zhao’s forehead. Without a word, Chong Zhao summoned his own immortal sword to meet the attack.
The two swords clashed in midair, their light sharp and cold. They were from the same sect and possessed comparable spiritual power, making it difficult to determine a winner at first. However, Zhe Sang’s swordsmanship was more seasoned and fierce, while Chong Zhao focused on defense. Before long, he was clearly at a disadvantage.
Seeing Zhe Sang’s relentless strikes aimed at Chong Zhao’s vital points, Er Yun’s voice trembled as she grabbed Song Yun’s sleeve. "Uncle, please stop them…"
Song Yun shook his head. "Unless there’s a conclusion today, Miao Miao will be thrown into turmoil."
Er Yun froze just as Zhe Sang’s sword pierced Chong Zhao’s shoulder, and blood quickly stained his robe. The crowd gasped in shock.
"Junior Brother!"
Zhe Sang hadn’t expected such an easy victory and couldn’t hide his smugness. "Junior Brother, if you’re this weak, how could you possibly bear the responsibilities of Miao Miao?"
"Back then, I felt remorse for my actions toward you, Senior Brother. Today, I return that guilt with this wound," Chong Zhao said, lifting his gaze with a resolute expression. His immortal sword glowed brightly as he deflected Zhe Sang’s sword. "Senior Brother, please proceed."
Zhe Sang was forced back three steps, and the disciples below exchanged glances. His face flushed with anger. "Chong Zhao! How dare you humiliate me! Very well, let’s finish this!"
The two immortal swords clashed again, but this time Chong Zhao’s strikes were relentless, no longer holding back. Soon, Zhe Sang was driven back repeatedly, left with only the ability to defend himself.
"Well done!" The disciples, who rarely saw duels between Immortal Lords, couldn’t help but cheer at Chong Zhao’s skillful swordplay. Compared to Zhe Sang’s arrogance, they felt more inclined toward Chong Zhao’s humble demeanor.
Driven to the edge of the platform by Chong Zhao’s sword, Zhe Sang heard the cheers of the disciples, and memories of his defeat two years ago flooded back.
His face was filled with bitterness. Despite both being Immortal Lords, he had trained in Miao Miao’s sword techniques for a century, yet he still couldn’t match a disciple who had been with the sect for only three years. How unfair was fate!
No, he couldn’t lose again this time!
A strange red gleam appeared in Zhe Sang’s eyes as he tightened his grip on his sword. Suddenly, a red orb brimming with spiritual energy appeared on the hilt. With the orb’s presence, his spiritual power surged, and he swung his sword fiercely, sending Chong Zhao—whose spiritual power was originally on par with his—flying backward. Chong Zhao spat out a mouthful of blood and fell to one knee on the cloud platform.
"Junior Brother!" Er Yun started to fly up to the platform but was stopped by Song Yun.
"Uncle, what kind of spiritual artifact is that?" Er Yun asked anxiously. She had noticed the eerie red orb, sensing its immense power. The spiritual energy contained within seemed on par with Miao Miao’s Mountain-Guarding Jade Slip.
Song Yun’s face darkened, and he wavered, coughing heavily. Er Yun quickly supported him. "Uncle, are you alright?"
Song Yun shook his head, his gaze fixed intensely on the cloud platform.
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