381: Chapter 381 Demonstrating Strength, Shocking the Entire Audience

The lingering echoes of the salute cannons still reverberated through the valley, and the last firework dissolved into sparks that fell from the sky.

The noise in the plaza had not yet died down, and the air was thick with the aroma of wine, but just as the merriment was at its height, a figure slowly stood up at the edge of the main stage.

Chen Xiaodao was not wearing ceremonial robes; instead, he wore a tight-fitting suit of light armor, and his silver hair was whipped up half a foot by the wind.

The sword in his hand gleamed with a cold metallic luster on one half, while the other half shimmered with flowing Spirit Array patterns. He pointed the tip toward the ground and made a light slash—

"Hum!"

An arc of light shot into the sky, like a tear ripping through the night.

Thirty-six Sword Cultivator Disciples took to the air in response, pale blue flames erupting from the micro-thrusters at their feet, their figures leaping like points of starlight as they rapidly formed a Formation in the air.

Their movements were synchronized; without a single command, they seemed to share a single mind.

"Is this... a sword Formation?" a young member of the West Desert Sand Clan widened his eyes, "Humans can actually fly?"

"Shut up!" the Elder beside him hissed, "That is the mech auxiliary System. Do you think the Chen Clan is still a bunch of bumpkins relying on their own two legs to traverse mountain roads?"

Before the words had even faded, the sword Formation in the air had already moved.

It spun in a three-hundred-sixty-degree three-dimensional rotation, the sword light weaving into a web, every trajectory as precise as if measured by a ruler.

Suddenly, all the sword tips pointed toward the firmament, condensing in an instant—

"Tiangang Big Dipper · Cyber Sword Diagram!"

A unified roar shook the very air.

Lingering trails of light remained in the sky, and seven-colored flowing light slowly rotated, resembling the arrangement of stars, echoing the Big Dipper in the heavens.

A few fallen leaves drifted past the edge of the sword Formation and were instantly ground into powder by the force of the Qi.

The Elder of the Chuanyun Sect tapped his cane lightly: "This is no longer the sword technique of a Mortal."

A Disciple of the Leiyin Pavilion muttered: "Every sword strike is locked onto a Spiritual Qi node; even a hair's breadth off would collapse the Formation... How did they achieve this?"

No one answered him.

Because the next second, the ground began to tremble.

"Boom—Boom—Boom—"

The heavy iron gate on the east side of the plaza slowly opened, and amidst the dust, a massive, pitch-black behemoth slowly drove out.

It stood ten zhang tall, the twin Rune Cannons on its shoulders gleaming with a faint light, and the folded wings on its back slowly unfurled. When it landed, its heavy footsteps caused the entire ground to tremble, yet not a speck of dust was kicked up.

"Earth Dragon Type-I, activating." Inside the cockpit, Chen Tiezhu's voice came through the amplification array, as steady as a block of iron.

"Old Chen! This iron hunk of yours is even more terrifying than last time!" a burly man from the Northern Plains Sun Clan couldn't help but shout.

Chen Tiezhu ignored him, his hands typing rapidly on the control panel: "AI auxiliary targeting, lock onto moving targets a hundred miles away, three-wave rapid fire, zero-point-three-second interval."

As soon as the words fell, the shoulder cannons flared brightly!

"Whoosh! Whoosh! Whoosh!"

Three miniature tracking missiles tore through the air, carving out three crimson trajectories.

On a distant hilltop, three rapidly moving Puppets had just turned when they were struck in succession, exploding into fragments as the firelight connected in a line.

The entire venue fell silent.

Immediately after, the mech shot vertically into the sky, performed a U-turn dive from a thousand meters up, and landed with both feet stomping heavily onto the strength-testing pillar.

With a soft "click," the strength-testing pillar, forged from dark iron, showed spiderweb-like cracks on its surface.

"This... this is a mark that only a full-strength strike from a Nascent Soul Cultivator could leave!" a drummer from the Cangling Clan cried out involuntarily.

Chen Tiezhu leaped down from the cockpit, patted the fuselage, and grinned: "That's not all. This armor can withstand a direct bombardment from an Early Stage Soul Transformation expert, and hold up for three days without a problem."

He wasn't bragging.

Because just after he finished speaking, a vibrant green light suddenly flared on the western high platform.

Bai Ling stood on the floating platform, hands clasped together, whispering an ancient incantation that no one could understand.

The Demonic Energy amplifier on her wrist slowly activated, and rings of light rose from beneath her feet.

"It's starting," someone whispered a reminder.

The next instant, countless light butterflies flew from her palms, each wing composed of pure magic, flickering with the light of nature.

They circled the plaza, flying over the heads of the guests. Some reached out to touch them, and the light butterflies dissipated upon contact, turning into a wisp of gentle Spiritual Qi that seeped into their bodies.

"My... my Dantian feels a bit hot!" a young Qi Refining stage boy from the Nangu Lin Family suddenly opened his eyes, "It feels like my cultivation is rising!"

"Impossible!" his Master frowned, "How can magic provide such a direct boost?"

"But it is a fact." The Clan Chief of the Xuansha Tribe stared at the remaining light spots on his palm, his voice tight, "This is not an illusion; it is tangible conversion of life energy."

The light butterflies flew thicker and thicker, eventually forming the phantom image of a towering ancient tree in the air, its branches and leaves swaying as if a real breeze were blowing through them.

A moment later, the light image dissipated. Bai Ling landed lightly, panting slightly, her left hand supporting her forehead, her face looking slightly pale, but a smile played on her lips.

"Little girl, this magic of yours... can it be sold?" a man who looked like a merchant leaned forward.

Bai Ling shook her head: "Not for sale. Only for friends."

The man retreated sheepishly.

Before the crowd could recover, the Formation area on the north side changed again.

Ling Zhenzi leaned on his staff, walking slowly to the central Formation eye, and took a Jade Slip from his sleeve.

The surface of the Jade Slip was engraved with dense circuit patterns, completely different from traditional Talismans.

"Everyone," his voice was not loud, but it clearly carried across the entire venue, "Watch closely. This Formation does not require anyone to guard it."

He inserted the Jade Slip into the interface on the ground.

"Hum—"

Seventeen sub-Formations lit up simultaneously, and a hexagonal force field rose from the ground, a thousand zhang in diameter, with pale blue data streams flowing along the edges, displaying the energy load in real-time: **Current Load: 37%**.

"This is... an automated Spirit Array?!" the Elder of the Chuanyun Sect stood up abruptly.

"Remote attack test, begin," Ling Zhenzi said indifferently.

Three rounds of Talisman bombardment came from a distant hilltop, striking the Formation wall, only to trigger a ripple before being bounced off.

Immediately after, a training anti-Formation mech rammed into the Formation wall at full speed. The force field fluctuated, the value jumped to "51%," and then it immediately returned to stability.

"This Formation can hold for seven days and seven nights without a single person guarding it," Ling Zhenzi sneered, "Want to force your way in? Gather all the Nascent Soul experts in the Eastern Wasteland first, then we'll talk."

The entire venue was silent.

After a full five breaths, applause erupted, louder than during the welcoming ceremony, but it lacked warmth and was filled with awe instead.

Liu Laosan clapped his hands, sweat beading on his forehead: "My god... this is truly impregnable."

The envoy of Chiji Ridge quietly stepped back half a pace, avoiding direct eye contact with the main stage, his lips pressed into a thin line.

The leader of the West Desert Sand Clan sat in his seat, the wine cup in his hand already crushed. Porcelain shards pierced his palm, and blood dripped onto the ground through his fingers, yet he was completely unaware, his eyes fixed intently on the edge of the force field that had not yet closed.

"Do we... still dare to provoke them?" his adjutant asked in a low voice.

He did not answer.

He only slowly raised his head and looked toward the main stage.

Chen Xiaodao had already sheathed his sword and stood at the edge of the high platform, his breathing steady, with no look of smugness on his face, only calmness.

Chen Tiezhu was whispering instructions to the technicians who had rushed over, waiting in place.

Bai Ling was surrounded by a few curious guests, gently explaining the principles of magic in a mild tone.

Ling Zhenzi pulled out the Jade Slip, tucked it into his sleeve, and walked slowly back to the rear seats, leaning on his staff. He closed his eyes to rest, appearing indifferent, but the corner of his eye swept across every pair of eyes around him.

The music played softly, the lights were not extinguished, and the celebration continued.

But the atmosphere had already changed.

Those who had once come with arrogance now sat up straight, not daring to whisper to each other or move about freely.

Their gazes were frequently cast toward the main stage, as if confirming something, or perhaps waiting for some kind of verdict.

No one left their seats.

No one made a sound.

Even the wind seemed to tread lightly.