Chapter 456: The Path to Ghost Level

"Dominating the Nine Heavens" Novel ()" Find the latest chapter!

Heavenly Silkworm Nine Locks? This move had already been used by Ye Dun against Mapeier earlier, but its current display was completely different from that time!

This wasn’t Heavenly Silkworm Nine Locks. Those silver threads were entirely distinct from the soul-bound threads used to control the Cicada Wing Knife before—each strand shimmering and crystal-clear, seemingly weightless yet capable of effortlessly slicing through the air. Clearly, they were condensed from pure energy. And there were far more than nine… even more than double digits!

The dense silver threads erupted from the air like a beautiful cascade of silver hair, numbering in the thousands, instantly enveloping Wang Feng, who had just landed, along with the ten-meter radius around him—completely and densely covered!

Heavenly Silkworm Transformation—A Thousand Silken Shadows!

Thud thud thud—BOOM!

The terrifying silver threads, seemingly soft, carried devastating power. The already battered ground was instantly riddled with countless holes, as if turned into a beehive. Wang Feng appeared to have been pinned to the ground, his crimson, collapsed form starkly visible amidst the countless silver soul threads.

Did he win?

Yet, there was not a trace of joy on Ye Dun’s face at this moment.

Whoosh whoosh whoosh…

The soul-link snapped, and the silver soul threads piercing the ground slowly dissipated. What appeared before the crowd wasn’t Old Wang’s corpse but his crimson Rose jacket.

Ye Dun slowly raised his head, looking upward. There, Wang Feng hovered in midair about a dozen meters above him, clad in a gray undershirt.

"Not too shabby," Old Wang remarked leisurely as he adjusted his torn sleeve, smiling. "Pretty fast. Stronger than I expected."

Aside from the big shots on the platform, the surrounding spectators and Sanctuary disciples were still frantically searching for Wang Feng’s whereabouts. Only upon hearing his voice did they look up in confusion, finally spotting the unharmed figure floating in the air.

Frankly, if these words had been spoken two minutes earlier, the entire crowd would have risen to their feet and flipped him the bird for showboating. But now, none of the fifty thousand people present felt he was showing off.

Everyone stared in stunned silence, their minds struggling to process the match they had just witnessed. Most hadn’t even caught a glimpse of the action, only hearing the chaotic sonic booms echoing across the arena.

A wizard, possessing such terrifying speed and close-combat prowess, fighting toe-to-toe with a Warrior renowned for speed—without a scratch… Was this showing off? This was downright next-level badass!

Whether at Rose’s entrance or in the stands, Xue Zhiyu, Xuecai, Yin Fu, Patu, Su Yue, and the others, who had been biting their nails the whole time, now felt as if they were in a dream, dazed and unable to react. The ordinary spectators were even worse off—the entire arena fell into a deathly silence, suffocated by the crushing tension. This was the highest-level match of the tournament so far.

Representatives from various families, duchies, and factions—whether invited by the Zenith Holy Sanctuary or drawn by its reputation—had completely revised their impressions of Wang Feng and Rose Holy Sanctuary.

This wasn’t bravado. This was Rose’s true depth. The devil-may-care attitude was just a facade. Only those with the greatest talent and the hardest work could achieve such dual mastery as warrior and wizard.

In an instant, Wang Feng’s image in everyone’s minds grew towering.

They had all misunderstood him!

Of course, Old Wang really wanted to say: You’re overthinking it.

"Holy crap, I feel like I just watched a fake Holy Sanctuary match… This is the Blade League’s Championship, isn’t it?!"

"The finals, no less!"

"So strong! These two are insanely strong! I couldn’t see a single move!"

"What the hell, what the hell did they just do? A match of this caliber without a professional commentator is just a disgrace!"

The silent arena erupted into chaos in an instant—everyone had gone mad!

Whether they supported Zenith or Rose, the ordinary spectators honestly hadn’t understood what had just happened. Who was stronger? Who had the upper hand? Who was at a disadvantage? Frankly, they couldn’t tell. But so what? With free tickets, they had witnessed a top-tier battle on par with the Blade League’s Championship… An intense and thrilling match was always satisfying. Just for this, their trip today was already worth it.

"How could this be… Is that Wang Feng really this strong?" Jiaoxi’s delicate features had paled slightly. She had thought Ye Dun would win easily, but it turned out to be an even match! This… this… Could Brother Ye Dun actually pull off an upset?

"It's alright, the boss still has the upper hand." Zhao Ziyue's eyes flickered with an uncertain gleam, his tone somewhat forced. "Brother Ye has been the one on the offensive all along. That Wang Feng... seems to only be fast. His close combat skills don’t seem to have caused any trouble for Brother Ye."

"Can anyone really be that versatile?" Maxwell also seemed to have a newfound respect, his tone less aggressive than before. "He’s not the Supreme Sage, after all."

The opinions of the three just happened to represent a watershed in the discernment of the Sanctuary disciples. On the opposite side, Gule pondered for a long while before speaking. "...I feel like Wang Feng hasn’t even exerted himself yet."

"Noticed it?" Xiao Bang smiled faintly.

"Neither of them has gone all out yet. They’ve both been holding back," Gule considered carefully. "Ye Dun probably used about seventy percent of his strength, but Wang Feng... feels like he only used half his strength!"

Xiao Bang chuckled. Gule’s insight was sharp, and his judgment aligned with his own understanding, but he was missing one crucial premise.

Fifty percent? That was probably just what Master wanted everyone to see.

The VIP seats were dead silent. Fu Changkong and Zhao Feiyuan both wore grave expressions.

Xiao Bang and Gule’s observations were remarkably accurate, and their assessment of the battle was largely on point. When the two fighters had first clashed, their probing exchanges had been evenly matched. But as their speed escalated to true combat levels, though the fight still appeared balanced, Wang Feng seemed far more at ease. After all, he had already fully stepped into this realm, and compared to Ye Dun, who was still in the "adjustment period," his control and utilization of Soul Power were clearly superior.

Even more terrifying was his martial prowess—whether in movement speed or close combat, he was nothing short of masterful. Truly worthy of being Thunder Dragon’s disciple!

The two couldn’t help but exchange glances, both seeing the flicker of shock in each other’s eyes.

This... was going to be troublesome.

Whoosh...

Ye Dun slowly ascended, reaching the same height as Wang Feng. The golden figure and the silver figure now hovered in midair, facing each other about ten meters apart.

Soul Power condensed, forming currents of air that made their clothes flutter wildly in the wind, lending them an almost graceful aura. Though their formidable Soul Power remained restrained, the aura and fighting spirit they exuded didn’t diminish in the slightest—instead, it grew stronger, like the calm before the storm, brewing something far more terrifying in the sudden silence of the night.

"Meeting a worthy opponent is actually a fortunate thing," Ye Dun said with a faint smile, his eyes gleaming sharply. "Your martial arts are impressive. No wonder you’re so confident."

"You’re not bad either. The Heavenly Peak Sanctuary truly lives up to its name," Wang Feng replied with a slight smile.

"I think the warm-up can end now." As he spoke, Ye Dun extended his hands flatly. With a soft *snap*, two thin Cicada-Wing Knives appeared in his grasp.

The knives were the same as before—thin as cicada wings, smooth and flawless—but they now carried an entirely different aura.

A faint silver glow enveloped the blades, resembling the veins of real cicada wings—fine, intricate, and delicate, spreading across the thin surface of the knives. It exuded a weird, eerie glow, as if the blades had truly come alive, transformed into wings.

"For a Martial Artist, Soul Power, speed, and strength are merely the basics. The reason martial arts are called a 'path'—today, I’ll let you experience the gap firsthand!"

Wang Feng grinned, replying nonchalantly, "Let's do this."

Their voices weren’t particularly loud, but with their Soul Power circulating intensely, even without effort, their words could be heard clearly across the entire arena.

The excited murmurs from the crowd instantly died down. Countless spectators were stunned, especially the Sanctuary disciples who had managed to grasp some of the earlier battle. The more they understood, the more stunned they were.

Warm-up? They called that earlier fight a warm-up? And now they were just getting serious?

How? They were all Sanctuary disciples—why did it feel like they were just here to be spectators?

The Ghost-level masters in the VIP seats, however, watched the two figures in the air with anticipation. How long had it been since they’d seen a battle like this between Sanctuary disciples? At least ten years—the last time was probably during Karida’s time. And truth be told, even Karida back then hadn’t reached the level of skill Wang Feng now commanded.

Frankly, this level of combat was hard to imagine in a duel between Sanctuary disciples.

Long Jing’s face, too, shifted from leisurely to grave. His visit to the Blade Temple had two main purposes. The primary reason, of course, was Lucky Heaven’s impending marriage contest—making an appearance, and even if unsuccessful, causing trouble for the League. The other reason was to observe the true caliber of the Blade Temple through this battle.

After all, Nine Gods and the League of Blades had been at odds for so long that they knew each other inside out. The Sanctuary was undeniably resilient and cunning. According to Long Xiang’s analysis, the outcome of the Dragon City battle wasn’t enough for Nine Gods to fully grasp the true combat potential of the Blade Temple. Though the main purpose of Fifth Brother’s argument was to attack Crown Prince Long Zhen’s mismanagement of the War Academy, in Nine Gods, such rhetoric was highly sensitive and weighty.

Long Jing had initially thought Long Xiang was exaggerating. Even if the Holy Sanctuary had held back some forces during the Dragon City battle, it should only be some mid-tier reserves. In terms of elite combatants, the Holy Sanctuary couldn’t possibly rival the War Academy—after all, the only one capable of standing against Long Feixue was Hei Wukai, who belonged to the Eight Tribes. But now, it seemed the Empire might genuinely need to reassess the Holy Sanctuary’s strength.

His lips twitched slightly as he muttered under his breath, audible only to himself: “The Holy Sanctuary… truly sly old foxes!”

Above, the wind howled as Ye Dun’s spiritual energy condensed to an extreme, like a massive energy compressed into a single point.

Hovering in the air, Ye Dun arched his back slightly, the two Cicada Wing Knives in his hands gleaming and twirling effortlessly.

Suddenly, a sharp glint flashed in his eyes.

Ye Dun’s body froze mid-motion, as if he hadn’t even begun to move—yet at the same instant, a blinding blade gleam erupted right in front of Wang Feng!

No sound, no movement, not even the slightest warning.

Their movements were so fast that the sonic booms from their clashes hadn’t even reached the audience before they had already shifted to another position.

Apart from the Ghost-level masters in the distinguished seating, neither the ordinary spectators nor the Holy Sanctuary disciples could track their movements at all. They could only guess their previous positions based on the delayed sonic booms. Even elite disciples like Gule, Jiaoxi, Mo Tong, and Xue Zhiyu could barely make out their trails.

Awe washed over the crowd. What kind of speed was this? Just this alone meant that even if every Holy Sanctuary disciple present joined forces, they wouldn’t even graze the hem of these two fighters’ robes.

The sky erupted in blinding silver flashes as the blades flashed in an instant.

Twin Silkworm Saber Technique!

Unlike the brutal arcs of his previous attacks using silkworm threads to control the Cicada Wing Knives, Ye Dun’s current technique was mesmerizingly graceful.

Stabs, flicks, slashes, and cleaves—though only two blades, the sheer coverage and intensity of his strikes matched his former Nine Silkworm Blades. Was this just the result of reaching Ghost-level? Clearly, there was more to it.

Novices saw only the show, but experts saw the craft.

Most Holy Sanctuary disciples could only marvel at the flashes of steel, but the seasoned warriors in attendance noticed something else—the blades weren’t being controlled by Ye Dun’s fingers. Instead, they danced just a paper's width from his fingertips, guided by a thin layer of spiritual energy. He didn’t even need to consciously manipulate them; the blades moved as if they were extensions of his own limbs.

This was no casual skill. Only those who had truly honed their blade skills understood the sheer talent and focus required to wield such a high-level technique purely with spiritual energy. The blades had become part of Ye Dun’s very being. Moreover, his spiritual energy was compressed to an extreme—what appeared as graceful, effortless strikes carried devastating explosive power upon impact. This alone proved that Ye Dun’s skill was no mere flourish, but the result of relentless dedication.

A cold smirk curled on the Saint-Child's lips. He had been thoroughly fooled by Ye Dun. The kid had hidden his true strength well. Everyone had assumed his blade techniques were mere extensions of his silkworm threads, that the threads themselves were his real weapons. But the truth was the opposite—his true power lay in the Cicada Wing Knives all along!

There was a consensus among experts: unique techniques were but supplements or surprise trump cards. True strength still relied on solid fundamentals—whether in martial arts or sorcery. Such blade skills weren’t something one could acquire just by breaking through to Ghost-level. They were the product of technique, mastery, and genuine combat experience. If Wang Feng had deceived the entire League, then so had Ye Dun!

Ye Dun’s path had always aligned with Hei Wu Kai’s. Upon reaching Ghost-level, Martial Artists branched into specialized directions, truly touching upon the “Dao.” Hei Wu Kai pursued the Path of Battle, while Ye Dun walked the Way of Shadows.

*Shing!—*

The sound of blades tearing through the air rang incessantly, but gradually, the noise lessened until it nearly vanished. The two thin blades danced so swiftly that even the delayed echoes of their movements disappeared, leaving only a whirlwind of silver.

The blade speed continued escalating, yet Wang Feng somehow kept up. Fighting barehanded against such relentless slashes was plainly suicidal—perhaps manageable in the short term, but the gap in technique and understanding would inevitably decide the outcome.

Then, after a prolonged silence, a sudden sonic explosion ripped through the air as two figures flashed past each other.

A gleam of exhilaration flickered in Ye Dun’s eyes.

Hiding this blade style in the past wasn’t just about concealing his strength—it was also because the Twin Silkworm Saber Technique had been his limit at Tiger Peak. Back then, controlling two blades was already his maximum, and the power wasn’t significantly greater than his Nine Silkworm Blades, so keeping it hidden made sense.

But now, the ascension to Ghost rank and the challenge posed by a top-tier opponent like Wang Feng made Ye Dun feel better than ever.

Without pause, he spun mid-air and unleashed another flurry.

Deadly flashes flickered through the sky, striking from angles so unpredictable they broke all expectations. But this time, something changed—Ye Dun multiplied into three!

Each duplicate wielded two Cicada Wing Knives, attacking at different speeds and angles before instantly diverging to strike Wang Feng from three directions. The crowd recoiled in shock.

Illusions? Impossible! This wasn't spirit magic!