146: Chapter 146 Strange Flute Sounds

The next moment, just as the sharp beak of the fire Phoenix was about to touch his robes in that split second—he moved.

It was not as fast as lightning, but rather like a willow catkin brushed by a gentle breeze, drifting back half a step in a counter-intuitive, almost elegant posture.

The movement appeared slow, but the timing was exquisite to the extreme!

"Boom—!!!"

The blazing fire Phoenix, carrying the destructive power to incinerate all things, whistled past the edge of his sky-blue brocade robe, ultimately slamming fiercely into the protective light barrier at the edge of the Martial Arts Arena, exploding with a roar!

Half the arena instantly turned into a churning sea of purgatorial fire.

The scorching heat wave swept outward like an angry tide, and the audience in the front rows even felt their hair and beards singe.

However—at the very same moment his figure drifted back, calmly evading this lethal blow on the edge of life and death—the flute sound changed.

The originally mournful and melodious tune suddenly soared, transforming into a shrill, piercing scream to the extreme!

It was as if ten thousand resentful Souls had their throats torn open simultaneously, emitting a desperate and unwilling wail!

This sound was no longer "heard"; it pierced directly into the marrow and drilled through the Soul!

"Pfft—!"

Huang Tianjiao's body shuddered violently as if struck by lightning, and a mouthful of crimson blood sprayed from her throat, splashing onto the surging flames before her, sizzling with a pungent white smoke.

The dazzling crimson-gold protective halo around her body was now flickering uncertainly, twisting and fluctuating violently, like a candle in the wind, as if it would completely shatter and extinguish in the next moment.

Those Phoenix eyes, which were always sharp, arrogant, and seemingly tempered with flames, were filled for the first time with unbelievable shock and a blank bewilderment.

This flute sound... not only could it ignore defenses and attack the Divine Soul directly, but it could actually... predict my Move?!

And it launched a fatal backlash at the very moment when my old strength was exhausted, new strength had not yet arisen, and my spiritual energy circulation was at its most vulnerable!

"Who... exactly... are you?!" Huang Tianjiao endured the intense pain threatening to tear apart her consciousness and Divine Soul, staring fixedly at that green figure still standing quietly, her voice hoarse and dry, like two pieces of rough sandpaper rubbing together.

She absolutely did not believe it! How could a small, obscure border Dynasty possibly nurture such... such a terrifying monster!

Liushui Qingshang did not answer.

He did not even open his tightly closed eyes.

The flute sound changed again!

Mournful, shrill, cold, desperate, insane... countless negative emotions capable of destroying the mind were frantically amplified, blended, and woven by the invisible melody, as if pushing open the sealed door to the deepest part of the Nine Heavens Hell.

"Hum—"

Visible to the naked eye, a viscous, ink-like black wave of Qi erupted and spread with him at the center!

In an instant, the entire arena was shrouded in a mist of sorrow and gloom.

The light dimmed suddenly, the temperature plummeted crazily, and a bone-chilling cold permeated the air, forming an eerie and terrifying contrast with the still-raging sea of fire, like ice and fire, life and death.

"Ugh, ahhh—!!!"

Huang Tianjiao could no longer hold on, emitting a hoarse groan mixed with pain and unwillingness.

She clutched her head with both hands, her ten fingers digging deep into her hair, her knuckles turning pale from excessive force.

Her Sea of Consciousness felt as if it were being repeatedly pierced, stirred, and sliced by billions of red-hot iron needles!

Her vision went black in waves, and countless distorted golden stars danced wildly.

The spiritual energy within her, originally as vast as a rushing river, now felt as if it had fallen into an endless, viscous quagmire, or was being tightly bound and Sealed by countless invisible shackles formed from the melody.

No matter how frantically she spurred her Golden Core, she could not mobilize even a fraction.

Even wanting to lift a finger became as difficult as moving a mountain.

Cold. Suffocation. Despair.

The shadow of death, for the first time, loomed so clearly and so hideously, gripping her throat.

"...I... concede."

In the instant before her consciousness sank completely into the boundless darkness, Huang Tianjiao used her last remaining strength and pride to squeeze out these three words, as faint as a mosquito's hum but as heavy as a thousand jun, from between her blood-stained teeth.

"Woo—"

The flute sound stopped abruptly.

Silence fell over everything.

The demonic sound that had just swept the entire arena, the eerie and treacherous Aura, and the suffocating pressure receded like the tide, disappearing without a trace, as if they had never existed.

Liushui Qingshang slowly lowered the jade flute from his lips. The warm, suet-white jade still shimmered with a soft halo in the slightly dim light.

He lifted his eyelids slightly, revealing his eyes—still clear to the bottom, ethereal and crystalline, as if they could reflect all things in the world, yet as if they reflected nothing at all.

The terrifying entity from just moments ago, who had manipulated the demonic sound and almost torn the opponent's Divine Soul apart, seemed to have nothing to do with him.

He bowed slightly once more to Huang Tianjiao, who was standing with difficulty, swaying, her face pale as gold, his posture still elegant, calm, and impeccable.

The corners of his lips curled into a faint, almost illusory and elusive arc: "I accept your concession."

The two words fell, as light as a feather hitting the ground, yet they seemed to carry the weight of a thousand jun, slamming fiercely into the hearts of every witness.

The entire Martial Arts Arena remained immersed in a vast, almost solidified shock and deathly silence.

One could hear a pin drop.

Everyone seemed to have been struck by a top-tier immobilization spell, staring dumbfounded at the green figure on the arena, their minds blank, almost unable to process the absurd information before them.

Sixth on the Heavenly Rankings... the peerless Prodigy of the Fengming Dynasty... the Golden Core Late Stage Peak, half-step Nascent Soul Huang Tianjiao... lost?

Just like that... lost?

Lost to this youth from the Qinyin Dynasty, who was previously obscure, looked frail, and resembled a Young Master from a noble family who had stumbled into a slaughterhouse?

The referee opened his mouth, his Adam's apple rolling up and down with difficulty several times before he could barely retrieve his dry voice, and with uncontrollable trembling, he shouted with all his might: "The... the winner is, Qinyin Dynasty, Liushui Qingshang! Ten... ten points awarded!"

The voice echoed in the deathly silent Martial Arts Arena, appearing exceptionally abrupt and clear.

Upon hearing this, Liushui Qingshang only nodded very slightly, not looking again at his opponent who was slumped on the ground in despair, and turned to walk off the arena with a calm gait.

His moon-white undergarment and sky-blue brocade robe's hem brushed lightly over the bluestone floor, which had been scorched black and mottled by the true fire and was emitting wisps of smoke, without gathering a speck of dust.

It was as if this earth-shattering, fate-reversing, Peak duel that could shake the entire Southern Region was, to him, nothing more than casually brushing an insignificant fallen petal from his shoulder while strolling in his own courtyard.

Until his clear, solitary, and upright figure completely disappeared into the shadows of the entrance behind the arena, the time that had been solidified for too long on the stands seemed to have been suddenly chipped open, starting to flow wildly again.

"Boom————!!!"

The sound that had been suppressed, accumulated, and brewed for so long, like a volcano that had been gathering for ten thousand years finding its vent, erupted with a roar! It was more intense and boiling than any time before!

"Lost... lost?! Huang Tianjiao actually lost?!"

"My heavens! Did I fall under an illusion?! How is this possible?!"

"This flute sound... what kind of evil Cultivation Technique is this?! My brain is still buzzing, my heart is racing, and I feel like my Dao foundation is shaking!"

"Qinyin Dynasty... Liushui Qingshang... a monster! This is definitely a monster in human skin!"

"What is going on with this Ten Thousand Dynasties Tournament?! First there was Chu Zhanxiao from the Great Xia Dynasty who appeared out of nowhere, and now another unfathomable Liushui Qingshang has popped up! How many more such Prodigies are hidden behind this?!"

"Quick! Go check! At all costs, I want all the information on this Liushui Qingshang! Everything!"

The sound waves boiled, with shock, horror, fanaticism, fear... all kinds of emotions interweaving and exploding on countless faces.

Everyone was arguing, debating, and roaring intensely, trying to digest this scene that overturned their perceptions.

At the Great Xia Dynasty seating area, Xuanyuan Zhanxian and Chu Zhanxiao turned their heads simultaneously, their gazes meeting in the air.

Both saw an unprecedented, almost tangible gravity from the depths of the other's eyes, which were usually calm or sharp.

"Master..." Xuanyuan Zhanxian's brows were tightly locked, his lips moving slightly as if he wanted to say something, but he found his throat a little dry.

Chu Changsheng did not turn back.

His gaze remained like a solid arrow, locked firmly onto the entrance where Liushui Qingshang's figure had vanished, as if wanting to pierce through the heavy shadows and see clearly everything hidden beneath.

His fingers, resting on his knees, tapped unconsciously, rhythmically, with a cadence of deep contemplation.

A moment later, his calm yet resonant, metallic-sounding, and solemn voice slowly sounded, clearly reaching the ears of the two Disciples beside him:

"Be wary of him."

These three short words carried the weight of a thousand.

Chu Changsheng continued, his tone unprecedentedly serious: "If you lack adaptability and cannot see through the secret of his musical rhythm... this person will be the most sinister and insurmountable obstacle on your path to the summit."

"His Dao of music is no longer a mere petty trick to disturb the enemy or confuse the mind. It can erode the Soul, lock the Qi, point directly at a Cultivator's Origin, and shake the foundation of their Dao. It is treacherous and unpredictable, impossible to guard against. Even for the two of you, if you cannot find a way to counter it, your chances of victory... will be no more than fifty-fifty."

The wind swept in from afar once again, carrying the dust of the Martial Arts Arena's thousand-year-old stage and the lingering heat, attempting to cover up everything that had just happened.

However, that eerie flute sound that struck directly at the Divine Soul, that green figure standing calmly before the destructive flames and within the monstrous Aura, and the bone-deep shock and chill brought by the name "Liushui Qingshang" had already been branded deeply into the hearts of every witness like the most profound mark.

Everyone clearly realized—from this moment on, a brand new, terrifying name would inevitably accompany endless trepidation, speculation, and legends, like an unstoppable storm, resounding throughout the sky of the entire Southern Region!

However—the clamor of the Martial Arts Arena had not yet fully subsided from the shock brought by Liushui Qingshang, and the buzzing waves of discussion had not yet reached their Peak—

"Boom!!!"

A dull, thunderous sound, like an ancient giant beating a war drum, exploded violently!

It did not come from any spectator, but from the center of the stage!

This sound seemed to strike directly at everyone's heart, instantly suppressing all the noise.

Immediately after, the voice of the referee of Stage Number One, infused with vast spiritual power and as majestic and grand as the thunder of the Nine Heavens, pierced through all obstacles and reached the ears, and even the depths of the Souls, of everyone present with absolute clarity:

"Silence!!!"

These two words, carrying unquestionable pressure, caused the boiling Martial Arts Arena to fall silent.

The referee's gaze was like lightning, sweeping across the entire venue.

Only after the last whispers had completely vanished did he take a deep breath and, using an even louder, more solemn voice, even with a hint of imperceptible excitement, loudly announce:

"For Stage Number Ninety-Nine, the next match—"

He paused slightly, as if to let this name carry enough weight, and then, word by word, as if casting down a ten-thousand-jun boulder:

"We invite Participant Number Five Hundred and Ninety-Nine!"

"Representing—"

The referee's voice suddenly rose, filled with a sense of ritual and impact:

"The Great Xia Dynasty—"

"Jian Tanghuang!!!"

"Boom——————!!!!!!"

The three words "Jian Tanghuang" were like three burning stars falling from the Nine Heavens, or like a Divine Being swinging a giant hammer, smashing fiercely onto the most sensitive heartstrings of everyone!

The entire Martial Arts Arena fell into a dead silence that was even more thorough and crazy than when Liushui Qingshang had won before!

It was as if even the air, the light, and even time itself had been firmly "nailed" to the spot by these three words!

Then—a wave of sound, thousands of times more terrifying than a volcanic eruption or a tsunami, surged into the sky!

It shook the heavens!

Even the towering viewing platform in the distance seemed to tremble slightly under the impact of this pure sound wave!

"Sword... Sword Princess?! Is it that Eldest Princess of the Shenwu Imperial Dynasty?! She... she really came?!!!"

In the front row, a young Cultivator, originally graceful and holding a precious jade-boned folding fan, suddenly shook his wrist.

With a "clatter," the expensive jade fan fell to the ground and shattered.

He seemed not to notice, only staring fixedly, staring fixedly at the direction of Stage Number Ninety-Nine, his eyeballs almost popping out of his sockets, his voice shrill and distorted from extreme shock.

"The rumors from a few days ago... they... they were actually true!!!"

His companion beside him, an experienced, well-informed older Cultivator, had also completely lost his composure at this moment.

He excitedly grabbed the former's arm tightly, his knuckles turning ghastly white from excessive force, his voice trembling with unbelievable ecstasy and horror,

"She is fighting for the Great Xia Dynasty! What does this mean?! This means... that Your Highness from the Great Wu Imperial Dynasty is likely also... This world is truly going to be in chaos! No, the sky of this Ten Thousand Dynasty Tournament is about to change!!"

Sounds of discussion, gasps, sobs, and fanatical shouts... like an exploded ammunition depot, after a brief silence, erupted with the force of a landslide and a tsunami!

Everyone who was still immersed in the eerie victory of Liushui Qingshang was now firmly gripped by an invisible giant hand named "Jian Tanghuang," and with unparalleled shock and awe, they all turned their eyes toward Stage Number Ninety-Nine!

Shock, confusion, fanaticism, worship, fear, anticipation... all kinds of extreme emotions were crazily intertwined and flickering on countless faces—The Shenwu Imperial Dynasty!

That was a behemoth that truly stood at the Peak of the clouds in the current world, looking down upon all living beings!

And Jian Tanghuang was even hailed as the "Number One Sword of the Imperial Dynasty," the "Invincible of the Same Generation," a peerless Prodigy, one of the few with the highest hopes of winning this Ten Thousand Dynasty Tournament, a figure living in legends and myths!

How could such a figure condescend to represent a... mere Great Xia Dynasty?!

Just amidst this deafening clamor that was almost tearing the eardrums—

"Swish!"

A crimson streak of light, like a shooting star crossing the sky, and like a Phoenix spreading its wings, gracefully swept down from the top of the viewing stand where the Great Xia Dynasty's seats were located!

Her posture was elegant, her speed swift, and her trajectory perfect, dazzling and mesmerizing.

She was as graceful as a startled swan and as lithe as a swimming dragon.

Without stirring up a speck of dust, she landed in the very center of Stage Number Ninety-Nine.

The light faded slightly, and her figure became clear.

Jian Tanghuang stood tall and outstanding.

She was still wearing a crimson dress that was extremely eye-catching and as fiery as blood.

That red was not common silk, but woven from spiritual silk spat out by thousand-year-old fire silkworms from the depths of the South Sea volcanoes.

Under the most violent midday sun, it still flowed with a warm, restrained light as hot as magma, as if flames were quietly burning beneath the fabric.

The hem of her skirt was embroidered with dark gold silk threads in complex, ancient, and sword-shaped patterns filled with endless sharp edges.

With her extremely subtle breathing, those patterns seemed to be slowly moving, as if they were living things.

Her figure was tall and straight like a pine on a solitary Peak, her shoulder line straight and straight, revealing an inviolable majesty, and her waist was slender but contained explosive power.

Her dark hair was coiled up with a simple red jade hairpin, and a few strands of loose hair brushed against her jade-white cheeks.

And the most eye-catching thing was the long sword she carried on her back.

The scabbard was crimson, a deep, pure red, like solidified blood or a settled sunset glow.

On the hilt, a pigeon-egg-sized, flawless ruby was embedded, currently glowing with a scorching brilliance, reflecting her red clothes, as if the rhythm of life was flowing within it.

She just stood there quietly.

She had not released any spiritual power pressure, nor had she revealed any heaven-shaking Sword Intent.

However, an invisible, intangible, yet imperial Aura—enough to make the heavens and earth lose their voice and all living things bow their heads—had quietly spread with her arrival, shrouding the entire stage, and even suppressing the landslide-like clamor of the whole venue.

It was as if where she stood was the center of the world.

It was the starting point of the rules.