"Xiao Tian."
Chen Junting's soft call prompted Ning Tian to act instantly. Her rings glowed, streams of amplification flowing into him like liquid light, his aura surging relentlessly.
The next second—Huuuum—!
His seventh ring blazed orange—a sword intent so sharp it made space tremble, swirling toward the Three-Headed Evil Dragon like a blade-tipped cyclone.
The dragon shuddered.
This fear was primal—instinctive.
But rage flared in its eyes. How dare a mere Soul Saint make me tremble? I'm unstoppable now!
Only a true Super Douluo could kill me!
ROAR—!
It roared to prove its might—then choked mid-cry.
Chen Junting's body radiated orange light—his Seventh Skill: Seven Kill True Form activated.
Gasps echoed across the arena.
But all eyes burned with anticipation: What would this unique orange ring unleash?
"Seven Kill True Form!" Chen Junting's voice boomed.
His Seven Kill Sword vanished. Under the orange glow, daylight dimmed to dusk. Terrifying sword energy sliced raindrops midair, reversing the downpour like an upward gale.
Above the dragon, a figure descended—sword light plummeting like meteors!
Then—the silhouette blurred, dissolving into motes of light that merged with the sword.
Man and Sword as One!
A fully manifested Seven Kill Sword hung in the void, its Ultimate Metal aura screaming: I can cleave all.
Impossible!
The Three-Headed Evil Dragon recoiled in horror.
With Ning Tian's amplification and True Form, Chen Junting had shattered into Super Douluo territory.
His sword could bisect any Title Douluo below Level 95—unless they wielded Grade-9 defensive soul tools or supreme defensive skills.
Zheng Zhan tensed, ready to intervene—not to save the Holy Spirit Church, but to shield spectators. The barrier was designed for Title Douluo-level attacks… yet this surpassed all expectations.
Damn it! The pressure's crushing!
Just as Zheng Zhan despaired—
"I won't believe you're this strong! ROAR—!"
The dragon went berserk.
But death's chill pierced its core. "Defend!" it shrieked.
A violet-black barrier erupted. The Seven Kill Sword struck—no flourish, just a downward point piercing the shield.
Crack—!
The barrier shattered like glass. The sword pressed on, cold light flashing.
They clashed—once—and a dragon horn fell.
Having narrowly escaped, the dragon refused close combat. Wings spread, it soared skyward, aiming to wear Chen Junting down from afar.
Thunder cracked through storm clouds.
'You've chosen your grave', Chen Junting thought. Time to test Unity with Heaven and Earth.
Instantly, he entered the state. Mind clear, he "saw" every raindrop severed by his sword energy—and the thunder brewing in the heavens.
A new idea sparked.
"Let this bury you."
Heart synced with heaven, will commanding lightning.
BOOOOM—!
The sky split with thunder and lightning!
Heaven's purest yang energy—lightning—was the bane of evil souls.
"Nine Heavens Mysterious Temple, become divine lightning!
Heaven's wrath—with my sword as its guide!"
Majestic words echoed. Runes blazed above the sword tip.
RUMBLE—!
Lightning danced across the sky, converging onto the Seven Kill Sword.
CRASH—!
Earth became a sea of lightning. A cage of thunder trapped the dragon, awaiting the guillotine-like sword.
Sword song roared. Lightning rained from clouds, striking the Seven Kill True Form.
Zheng Zhan's hands shook. Soul engineers channeling the barrier trembled.
One sword stroke—nine heavens' thunder followed.
"Lightning purges evil! My blade slays demon dragons!"
The dragon gathered its Soul Saint power, summoning a demonic silhouette—but lightning erased it instantly.
The Seven Kill Sword, wreathed in thunder, cleaved the dragon apart. Its fragments scattered, its evil essence annihilated by heavenly yang.
Body and soul—utterly obliterated!
On the main stand, Zhongli Wu shot up, fists clenched in his sleeves. Unstable killing intent radiated from him like a volcano about to erupt.
Seven or eight figures instantly shielded Xu Tianran.
Huff… huff…
Zhongli Wu breathed deeply, calming himself. As his aura settled, he hissed: "Seven Treasures Glazed Tile Sect! You three are worthless!"
Nine sent—none returned.
Elite disciples, gone.
Yan Feng—his prized disciple—lost.
Worse, despite his support, they'd gained nothing. The Holy Spirit Church was ruined.
Zhongli Wu's glare snapped to Xu Tianran. Guards tensed—but Xu Tianran waved them off calmly. "It's fine."
With feigned regret, he promised: "State Preceptor, calm your fury. I swear—I'll have them torn limb from limb to soothe your wrath."
"No need," Zhongli Wu spat. "My sect will handle them personally. As for the rest… we'll deal with it ourselves." He vanished in a streak of dark light.
Xu Tianran remained, eyes icy, face unreadable.
At that moment, Zheng Zhan declared the result:
Holy Spirit Church's team—annihilated.
Seven Treasures Glazed Tile Sect—victorious in the lower-bracket semifinal.
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