The cries of Hengyue Sect’s disciples rose in a fevered pitch. “Slay him, Senior Brother Zhao! Grant us vengeance for this insult!”

“Crush him! Let this whelp understand the might of Hengyue! Zhao, show them no mercy!”

“The Xuan Dao Sect reeks of arrogance. Senior Brother must make them swallow their pride! To claim he will only employ half his cultivation, the audacity!”

“Cunning snakes, the Xuan Dao Sect! They fear defeat and pave their excuses beforehand. Brother Zhao, our hopes are with you! Triumph!”

The assembled inner disciples of Hengyue burned with indignation. Such blatant condescension wounded their very pride.

The elder masters of Hengyue Sect watched with shadowed faces, their silence heavy. Their gazes, once cordial, now bore the frost of animosity towards the Xuandao delegation.

Sun Dazhu murmured to Wang Lin, concern etching his features, “Disciple, tread cautiously. This exchange burns fiercer than any before. Never have I witnessed such open arrogance from the Xuandao Sect.”

Wang Lin studied the inflamed faces of his fellow students, his gaze then fixed on the enigmatic Liu Feng. A veil of mist clung to the Xuandao disciple, obscuring his true strength from Wang Lin’s spiritual senses.

Liu Feng, standing serene upon the stone platform, offered a gentle smile. “Senior Brother Zhao, at the behest of my Sect Elder, I shall restrict my power to but half its potential for this contest.”

Zhao Long, a figure of sturdy build and sun-darkened skin, possessed the bearing less of a cultivator and more of a seasoned warrior from the martial realms.

He regarded Liu Feng warily, then bowed in respect. “Senior Brother Liu, be welcome to begin!” With a determined stamp of his foot, milky-white lotuses bloomed beneath his soles. The blossoms rose, swelling in size, circling him like ethereal guardians.

Each lotus petal pulsed with the keen edge of sword intent, causing Zhao Long’s robes to billow and whip about him in a windless dance.

Sect Head Huang Long offered a faint smile. “Zhao Long’s Lotus Sword Intent possesses the strength of a mid-grade art. Noteworthy, indeed.”

“Indeed, esteemed Sect Head,” boomed a red-faced elder from the sidelines, pride radiating from him. “Zhao Long is among my most cherished pupils. Possessing both talent and an unparalleled dedication to practice. This Lotus Sword Qi, claimed from the Sutra Pavilion, consumed five years of his life. In its year of twenty-one, he finally mastered its intermediate depths!”

“Lotus Sword Qi is famed for its potency in attack,” Master Daoxu instructed the surrounding disciples with a smile. “Observe well, young ones. Glean what knowledge you can from this encounter. Such opportunities are precious, do not squander them!”

Wang Zhuo narrowed his eyes, outwardly attentive, inwardly dismissive. “Lotus Sword Qi? Bah, I could match it. Give me five years, and I will surpass him easily.”

“Senior Brother Zhao is usually so reserved,” Sun Hao whispered, a touch of envy in his voice. “Who knew he had embraced the lotus and cultivated it to such a level!”

Upon the stone stage, Zhao Long roared a warning, “Junior Brother Liu, my Lotus Sword Qi is formidable! Prepare yourself!”

In that instant, the circling lotuses spun with blinding speed, unleashing a torrent of azure sword energy that descended upon Liu Feng like a merciless rain.

Liu Feng’s expression remained unchanged. He retreated swiftly, his hands weaving a complex series of seals. “Water Veil!” he intoned softly. Suddenly, the sky dimmed, and a thousand crystal lights coalesced from the air – droplets of pure water.

These droplets surged before Liu Feng, assembling into a shimmering water curtain, refracting the sunlight into a dazzling array of colors.

Elder Ouyang chuckled, instructing the disciples behind him. “Hengyue’s Lotus Sword Qi is notoriously difficult to master. Zhao Long, in particular, has reached the realm of sword intent, granting him exceptional offensive power. Remember this: should you face such an attack, do not meet it head-on. Seek to outmaneuver it, unless, like Liu Feng, you possess a singular affinity for the water element, commanding the very essence of water with but a thought.”

The disciples nodded in acknowledgment, absorbing his wisdom, save for a middle-aged man at the rear, who merely scoffed in silent contempt.

Upon the platform, the tempest of lotus sword energy crashed against the water curtain, yet Zhao Long’s brow furrowed. The water curtain was unnervingly passive; his sword energy met it without effect, vanishing soundlessly.

He frowned, about to unleash another torrent of magic, when a subtle smile played upon Liu Feng’s lips behind the water curtain. “Senior Brother Zhao,” he said softly, “It is impolite to receive without giving in return. Perhaps you would care to sample your own Lotus Sword Qi?”

Ripples spread across the surface of the water curtain, distorting the light. Then, with uncanny precision, the curtain reflected Zhao Long’s own spell, mirroring the Lotus Sword Intent back upon its creator.

Zhao Long paled. He lunged backward, but the reflected sword energy was faster. With a desperate cry, Zhao Long flung forth more than a dozen immortal talismans from his storage pouch. The talismans ignited in a burst of yellow light, instantly transforming into a swirling cloud of black mist.

The incoming sword energy slashed into the mist, weakening, but the black fog burned away rapidly. Though it barely managed to consume the majority of the onslaught, some blades slipped through the vapor, piercing directly into Zhao Long’s body.

Driven by the impact, Zhao Long was flung backward, spitting blood as he tumbled through the air. He landed with a sickening thud, his face ashen. He struggled to rise, but found himself unable to stand.

Small holes, thankfully non-lethal, marred his form.

Liu Feng, a triumphant smirk gracing his features, turned and leapt from the stone stage, addressing Elder Ouyang. “I have, fortunately, not disgraced my sect. Only half the power of the Water Veil was required for this reflection.”

The red-faced elder moved with unnatural speed, transforming into a streak of crimson cloud. He knelt beside Zhao Long, his expression grim. He pressed his palms upon the fallen disciple, channeling healing energy and forcing several precious pills down his throat. Having done so, he spoke in a low voice. “Such skill with the Water Veil! Without strength exceeding the eighth level of Qi Condensation, it is impossible to break. This disciple is lacking, his defeat is natural.”

The disciples of the Xuan Dao Sect erupted in cheers, their voices buzzing with excited chatter.

“I knew that even if I were to compete with Senior Brother Liu Feng at the sixth level of Qi Condensation, we would assuredly emerge victorious!”

“Indeed! Senior Brother Liu’s Water Veil is peerless! Even the Elders sing its praises. To believe they could shatter it is but a foolish dream.”

“Truly, Hengyue Sect declines with each passing year. I have observed them for days, and I see no one who poses a threat to us.”

“Tread carefully, young one. The violet-robed disciples of Hengyue have yet to reveal themselves. It is whispered amongst the Elders that they are the true core of this sect.”