Chapter 89: The Final Battle Under the Full Moon

Chapter 89: The Duel Beneath the Full Moon

The moon rose over the eastern mountains, lingering silently among the stars of the Ox and Dipper. At this moment, atop the Blackwood Cliff, the silver glow of the full moon draped the precipice in a fine, ethereal sheen.

After Yang Lianting departed, Dongfang Unbeaten’s gaze settled on Zheng Jian, and he sighed softly, “In this world, apart from Lian-di, nothing could stir the still waters of my heart. I never expected, however, for someone as outstanding as you to appear. Do you know why I invited you here tonight?”

Zheng Jian looked upon the strange figure of Dongfang Unbeaten, listened to the bewitching, gentle voice, and felt his skin prickle with goosebumps. This person had practiced the Sunflower Manual for many years—compared to this, Zuo Lengchan’s so-called ‘Orchid Fingers’ were nothing but a child’s trick.

Yet, Dongfang Unbeaten had not made a move. Simply by standing there quietly, an overwhelming pressure seemed to emanate from him, as if Zheng Jian stood before a mountain impossible to cross.

Seeing Zheng Jian remain silent, Dongfang Unbeaten sighed once more. “At first, full of youthful ambition, I only wished to be the leader of the Sun and Moon Cult, uniting the martial world with both virtue and might. To that end, I exhausted every means and finally seized Ren Woxing’s position. When I first became sect leader, I was filled with heroic spirit. Only after mastering the Sunflower Manual did I truly comprehend the great path of transformation and growth. Afterwards, within the martial world—indeed, the entire realm—no one remained worthy of my attention. Had you not emerged, I might have grown old and died atop this Blackwood Cliff, never setting foot in the world below again…”

Listening, a chill crept into Zheng Jian’s heart.

Before arriving, he had already guessed Dongfang Unbeaten’s reason for challenging him. But it was only upon seeing this strange, androgynous figure that he truly appreciated the sinister legacy of the Sunflower Manual.

Once, Dongfang Unbeaten was the very embodiment of pride and ambition—so much so that even Xiang Wentian could only look up to him. Yet, after practicing the Sunflower Manual to its depths, he had become this living ghost.

Zuo Lengchan, by comparison, was lucky. According to Zheng Jian’s analysis, his situation was likely connected to Master Duyuan—also known as Lin Yuant. Having studied Buddhist scriptures for years, Lin Yuant had the mental discipline of Zen, and the Evil-Resisting Sword he created by combining the incomplete Sunflower Manual with his own insights was, in contrast, relatively “gentle.”

Zheng Jian grew impatient with Dongfang Unbeaten’s reminiscence. “It’s late,” he said bluntly. “Let’s get this over with. I want to go home when it’s done.”

Dongfang Unbeaten froze, thrown off rhythm. Suddenly, he roared, “You… you deserve to die!”

In a flash of crimson, his body blurred forward, and a slender embroidery needle shot from his sleeve with uncanny speed.

Zheng Jian knew well that Dongfang Unbeaten favored the use of needles and had prepared himself. The Tear-Stained Sword flashed from its sheath; in a single breath, he thrust three times, each stroke faster than the last.

Dongfang Unbeaten, seeing this, praised, “A fine sword technique.” His body contracted and shifted several feet to the side, evading all three thrusts. Yet Zheng Jian felt a sudden sting on his cheek.

“What speed!” Zheng Jian’s heart skipped a beat. He had anticipated Dongfang Unbeaten’s swiftness but hadn’t expected anything like this—Dongfang had managed to strike him with a needle in the very instant Zheng Jian attacked, and then had time to parry the three sword thrusts on the return.

Touching the bead of blood welling from his cheek, Zheng Jian calmed his breath and mind. In that brief exchange, he had already fallen behind. The title of ‘Number One Under Heaven’ was no empty boast—Dongfang Unbeaten truly deserved it.

No matter how unsettling or grotesque Dongfang Unbeaten had become, in terms of martial skill, he had indeed mastered the remnants of the Sunflower Manual. His talent was nearly a match for the likes of Ouyang Feng from the Legends of the Condor Heroes—after all, that man had learned the Nine Yin Manual backwards and still succeeded…

With his innate energy surging, Zheng Jian quickly regained composure and resolved to fight back with renewed vigor. This time, he dared not wait for Dongfang Unbeaten to make the first move but instead chose to attack.

This had always been his strategy: against Dongfang Unbeaten, he needed to play to his strengths. Zheng Jian’s advantage lay in the combination of the Nine Swords of Dugu and his Innate Energy Technique—in other words, swordsmanship backed by formidable resilience. The Nine Swords of Dugu grew stronger against stronger foes, and more importantly, its style, like Dugu Qiubai himself, was all offense and no retreat—anticipating the enemy’s moves, seizing the initiative.

Thus, as Zheng Jian struck again, the Tear-Stained Sword spun a storm of shadows that swept across the cliffside like a tempest, the gleam of the blade reflecting the moon so brilliantly that midnight atop the precipice seemed as bright as day.

Dongfang Unbeaten wielded his embroidery needle, scarcely longer than an inch, yet in his hand it was mightier than any legendary weapon. Parrying left and right, needle to sword, he met every one of Zheng Jian’s attacks and still had time to praise him: “A remarkable sword technique indeed. I judged you well. Not quite my equal yet, but worthy as an opponent—very good!”

There was even a hint of a smile on Dongfang Unbeaten’s enchanting face—a look of effortless ease. “But right now, you’re only just good enough to be my opponent. Not strong enough! Not yet. I’ll have to turn up the pressure.”

His movements were fearsome, flitting like a ghost through the night. If Zheng Jian hadn’t already mastered the art of Shifting Steps, Dongfang Unbeaten would have run circles around him.

Zheng Jian was grateful for his mastery of Shifting Steps; this technique, especially in confined spaces, was truly superb. He hadn’t witnessed the Lightness Skill of Ling Bo firsthand, but he surmised Shifting Steps was in no way inferior. Without it, after several exchanges, he would have been pierced by more than a few needles already.

Amid the relentless duel, Zheng Jian suddenly felt a sharp pain between his brows—a needle had struck him in the center of his forehead. Fortunately, Dongfang Unbeaten, dodging the Tear-Stained Sword, had diverted his strength, so the needle barely broke the skin. Had it struck home with full force, the consequences would have been dire.

Now, Dongfang Unbeaten had completely roused Zheng Jian’s fighting spirit. He ignored the wound entirely. His eyes could no longer keep up with Dongfang Unbeaten’s speed; with a sudden inspiration, he tilted his head back slightly, catching a glimpse of the full moon overhead, and then closed his eyes, relying solely on his senses to discern his opponent’s movements.

His mind settled into perfect stillness. In his heart’s eye, all was darkness—save for a single circle at the center, bright as the moon, like a reflection cast into a deep well.

Outside, Zheng Jian seemed to anticipate every move before it happened. Though his eyes were closed, he could still predict the path of Dongfang Unbeaten’s needles, and the Tear-Stained Sword would slash out in advance, forcing Dongfang Unbeaten to retreat each time.

From the opening disadvantage to this moment, Zheng Jian had finally held his ground against Dongfang Unbeaten’s onslaught.

…