Ms. Diviner: The Prodigal Daughter's Return Chapter 1368: The Wind Blows, Chilling the Balls

Han Yan's figure, accompanied by the three Sky-breaking Sword Lights of Nine Heavens Star Fall, also descended at this crucial moment.

BOOM!

BOOM!

BOOM!

Resounding thunderous impacts shook the air, causing Feng Qingyu's face to drain of color with each strike. It wasn't just Han Yan's own formidable power; even the sword slashes from his two shattered clone illusions each carried a significant fifty percent of his Sword Power.

This fifty percent of Sword Power should not be underestimated. With Han Yan's combat power currently elevated to the Sword Saint Realm, this amount alone is sufficient to contend with a Great Sword Master at their peak, even surpassing it to reach the Half-Saint Realm. In essence, it felt as if he were simultaneously enduring attacks from one Sword Saint and two Half-Saint Realm powerhouses.

Feng Qingyu had never anticipated such potency within Han Yan's clone illusions. Even the original master of this Innate Divine Ability, Jiang Yuzhe, found his clone illusions typically possessed no more than twenty to thirty percent of his own strength. Caught completely off guard, Feng Qingyu was once again sent reeling, his appearance disheveled.

However, this was not the most terrifying aspect. The true horror lay in the Sword Power, which inexplicably contained Huayue’s Thunder Sound Sky Shake. Waves of disruptive force bypassed his defenses with effortless ease, surging directly into his Eight Extraordinary Meridians and internal organs, wreaking havoc within.

This individual is a monster; a true monster indeed.

Feng Qingyu gritted his teeth, exerting immense pressure, and finally managed to suppress the chaotic surge of Qi within him, averting the immediate embarrassment of vomiting.

"Not bad, not bad at all. Now you understand the might of my Sword Array, don't you?" Feng Qingyu managed to force a smile, adopting the dignified posture of a seasoned master.

His original intention was to awe Han Yan with his personal strength. However, the situation had shifted, now serving as a demonstration of the Sword Array's capabilities. Regardless, the extent to which Han Yan and the others benefited from this Sword Array would ultimately serve to highlight his own prowess, thereby magnifying his glory.

"Senior Feng, it's not finished yet," Han Yan declared, his longsword suddenly launching from his grasp.

Only then did Feng Qingyu remember that, aside from the Innate Divine Abilities of Huayue, Jiang Yu, and Tang Bufan, Zirong's ultimate Innate Divine Ability had yet to be unleashed by Han Yan.

This particular execution of Nine Heavens Star Fall, without Han Yan's direct control over its raw power, felt lighter yet possessed an uncanny agility, its speed greatly enhanced. The angle of the sword's slash was executed with exceptional precision.

What was originally an overwhelmingly dominant sword technique transformed into something agile and unpredictable under the influence of the Heart Sword Divine Ability, appearing ethereal and mysterious.

The sword strike came with such unexpected swiftness that Feng Qingyu found himself unable to immediately ascertain the trajectory of the slash. He could only extend his Qi outward, manifesting an intangible protective shield around himself.

WHAM! The longsword descended like divine thunder from the heavens.

Despite already possessing power comparable to a Sword Saint, the disparity in strength between the two remained immense. Han Yan's sword, while still unable to breach Feng Qingyu's formidable defense, delivered violent vibrations through the Thunder Sound Sky Shake. These tremors pierced the Qi shield, once again assaulting Feng Qingyu's internal organs like relentless, crashing waves.

Feng Qingyu's complexion instantly shifted from pale to a sickly white tinged with blue.

"Senior Feng, are you alright?" Observing Feng Qingyu's unusual distress, Han Yan inquired with concern, worried he might have inadvertently caused him harm.

Feng Qingyu merely waved a hand. He had intended to maintain his masterly composure and utter some words of reassurance, but before he could speak, he clapped a hand over his mouth, turned towards a quiet corner, and began to heave dryly, tears welling up, though nothing emerged.

"What happened to him?" Jiang Yu, unaware of the nuances in Huayue's Innate Divine Ability, asked with evident confusion.

It was apparent that Feng Qingyu was not physically injured, so why was he experiencing such violent, unproductive retching?

"Based on my extensive medical experience, I'd venture to say he's expecting. Haven't you observed his frequent bouts of dry heaving?" Ling Baobao stated with utmost seriousness, shaking his head.

"Uhh..."

Feng Qingyu turned his head, fixing Ling Baobao with a glare, harboring an overwhelming urge to strangle him.

After a considerable amount of time, Feng Qingyu finally managed to stand upright. Though he hadn't actually vomited, the chaotic Qi in his chest had stabilized, and his complexion had somewhat improved. However, the tears still lingered in his eyes, accompanied by a peculiar, inexplicable sadness.

"Senior Feng." Han Yan regarded him with sympathy, extending a restorative elixir.

"No need. I am unharmed. With your current level of strength, how could you possibly injure me? Back in my day, I, Feng Qingyu..." Feng Qingyu, regaining a semblance of spirit, began to reminisce. Yet, as his thoughts drifted, he noticed the peculiar gazes of the crowd, who seemed to be fighting back suppressed laughter, making him feel too embarrassed to continue his grand recounting of past glories.

While this wasn't a genuine contest nor a perilous trial, otherwise, a full-power exertion would have easily seen Han Yan defeated. However, whether it was underestimation or a moment of unpreparedness, being bested by a junior in such a fashion was profoundly mortifying.

"Senior Feng, there's no need to dwell on it; we understand," someone offered words of comfort, observing Feng Qingyu's somber silence.

"..." Feng Qingyu's heart felt as though it were dissolving. What began as mere embarrassment was now being brutally twisted by Han Yan's seemingly kind consolation, akin to a savage heart-stab accompanied by a generous sprinkle of salt.

"Enough, all of you should concentrate on your cultivation. I am departing," Feng Qingyu declared, his spirit utterly crushed.

"And what about accepting disciples?" Han Yan inquired, appearing determined to continue tormenting him.

"We shall discuss it another time. Later," Feng Qingyu, driven by his inherent tenacity, would naturally not relinquish his goals easily. Yet, at this moment, he lacked any enthusiasm to bring up the matter of disciples, leaving with a distinct aura of desolate isolation.

"I find his demeanor rather mournful," Zirong commented reflectively, surmising that prolonged exposure to the poison might have left him in a melancholic state.

"If your trousers were suddenly sliced open, you'd likely feel quite melancholic yourself," Ling Baobao responded with a sobering earnestness.

Feng Qingyu staggered, his descent from the heavens nearly resulting in a fall. He now comprehended that Zirong's unpredictably wielded sword had indeed managed to rend his trousers, explaining the peculiar chill he had felt.

Had it been anyone else, such a mishap might have been bearable. But to suffer such a profound loss of face before Han Yan was simply unendurable. Feng Qingyu harbored an intense desire to hurl himself against a wall, yet, given his current cultivation level, even impacting a castle wall would likely prove futile.

Thus, he descended with haste, clutched his tattered pants, and fled like the wind.

Only then did Han Yan, Huayue, and the others erupt into unrestrained, hearty laughter.

"On this occasion, we owe a great debt to Senior Feng. Otherwise, relying solely on ourselves, we might never have grasped the intricacies of this Sword Array," Han Yan stated gratefully after his laughter subsided.