Crow Immortal: I Can Duplicate Infinite Resources

So weak indeed?

The insult echoed in the silence. Li Tonghai’s face turned the color of bruised iron, his gaze locked murderously on the figure hovering above him on the silver-white spindle.

This wasn’t the stinging frustration of defeat. This was pure, unadulterated shame.

Losing to Han Yu had been palatable—Han Yu was a friend, and a recognized genius. But losing to this veiled outsider, this arrogant child who called him “weak” to his face? It was a humiliation that burned deep in his gut.

“The match is decided,” Elder Lü announced, his voice cutting the tension. “Does anyone else wish to step onto the stage?”

With a flick of his wrist, Lin Lingxiu retracted the silver threads, dropping Li Tonghai unceremoniously to the floor.

Li Tonghai gripped his sword until his knuckles cracked. He stared at Lin Lingxiu for three long breaths, shaking with the urge to strike, before forcing himself to turn and walk away.

Lin Lingxiu didn’t even watch him go. His glowing, starry eyes were already scanning the Wanchun Valley delegation.

“If the rest are also weaklings, don’t bother coming up.”

The arrogance was breathtaking.

Li Tonghai spun around, his hand flying to his hilt. Half a dozen Spirit Sword Sect disciples drew their blades in unison, the ringing of steel filling the air. Three Mystic One Sect disciples stepped forward, their faces dark with anger.

From the Wanchun Valley ranks, Yuan Shengjiao, fresh from her victory in the Inner Disciple competition, stepped forward. “Are you asking me to teach you a lesson?”

“You are also weak,” Lin Lingxiu said, his tone bored. “You rely on poison. I have poison-avoiding pills. Your tricks are useless against me.”

“Then what about me?”

A sharp cry tore through the air.

Thwack!

A flying sword, shimmering like fish scales, slammed into the arena floor, quivering with residual force.

A middle-aged female cultivator leaped onto the hilt. She stood tall and rigid, a jagged scar running down her face, her eyes cold as ice.

Lin Lingxiu studied her for a moment. “Slightly stronger,” he conceded. “But still weak. At your age, to not have reached Foundation Establishment… you have wasted your life.”

The woman laughed, a sound devoid of mirth, her scar twisting with rage.

“Let me see if your skill matches your insolence!”

“Begin!” Elder Lü shouted.

The woman launched herself forward, her sword qi erupting in a violent surge aimed straight at Lin Lingxiu’s throat.

This time, Lin Lingxiu didn’t just dodge.

He spread his arms. Three thin, razor-sharp discs, engraved with star patterns, materialized in the air. They spun rapidly, creating a deadly hum as they crisscrossed toward the swordswoman.

Simultaneously, the silver threads erupted from his spindle, weaving a dense, inescapable net that closed in from all directions.

The woman’s expression hardened. She slashed her sword, knocking the three star discs off course with a shower of sparks, then reversed her grip to sever the encroaching threads.

She leaped clear of the net, ready to counterattack.

But a fourth star disc appeared out of nowhere, blocking her path.

The split-second she took to deflect it was fatal. The three discs she had parried looped back like boomerangs, striking from behind. At the same time, the silver net collapsed inward, binding her tight.

Elder Lü prepared to call the match. The woman was trapped; it was over.

But the star discs didn’t stop. They accelerated, aiming straight for her unprotected back.

He intends to maim her.

“Stop!”

Elder Lü’s Spiritual Power surged. In the nick of time, he froze the three spinning discs mere inches from her flesh. Even so, the wind pressure sliced through her robes, leaving three bloody lines on her back.

“You have already won,” Elder Lü roared, his voice trembling with anger. “Why be so aggressively overbearing?”

“There are too many weaklings,” Lin Lingxiu replied, his voice calm and unrepentant. “And they are too self-righteous. I am simply teaching them a lesson.”

He looked down at the elder. “They line up one after another to challenge me. If I don’t break them, when will I get to fight a real opponent?”

With a flick of his finger, he sent the fourth star disc spinning around Elder Lü’s face—a blatant threat. “If the next challenger is another weakling, let’s see if you can protect them next time.”

Elder Lü’s face darkened. “Are you challenging me?”

“Junior disciples sparring, what challenge is there?” Qin Ting stood up, his smile oily and pleasant. “Lingxiu, Elder Lü is a Ninth Layer Foundation Establishment senior. Show some respect.”

Lin Lingxiu paused. For a moment, it seemed he might attack the elder. Then, calculating the odds, he gave a shallow bow.

“Senior Lü, I was impatient. Please forgive me.”

The silver threads vanished, releasing the swordswoman.

She dropped to one knee, gasping for breath, then bowed deeply to Elder Lü. “Chen Ying thanks Elder Lü for saving my life. This kindness I will never forget.”

She shot a look of pure hatred at Lin Lingxiu before storming off the stage.

Elder Lü turned his cold gaze to the boy. “What is the point of sparring like this?”

“Lingxiu is straightforward and talented,” Qin Ting interjected smoothly. ” Genius often comes with arrogance. I ask for your understanding.”

He spread his hands to the crowd. “That is why I brought him here. I want someone to defeat him. I want him to learn that there is always someone better, to humble him. That is why I offered the Foundation Establishment Pill.”

Qin Ting scanned the angry faces of the Spirit Sword and Mystic One sects. “So… who is next?”

Silence.

The visiting disciples looked away. The difference in power was undeniable. To go up now was just asking for humiliation.

Qin Ting’s gaze settled on the Wanchun Valley section.

Yuan Shengjiao hesitated. My Hundred Flowers Poison might work… but if he truly has the antidote…

She took a step forward, but a figure moved past her.

“Senior Sister Yuan, hold. Let me try first.”

Han Yu walked past the hesitation and fear. He stopped before the dais, bowing formally to Sect Leader Qi and Elder Lü.

“Wanchun Valley Inner Disciple Han Yu requests permission to spar.”

Sect Leader Qi looked at him, his eyes heavy with meaning. “Have you thought this through?”

Against him, you cannot hide your strength. You will have to reveal your cards.

“I have,” Han Yu replied, his voice steady. “He disrespected my Master. I must act.”

“Good. Good child!” Sect Leader Qi nodded, pride swelling in his chest. “Go. Win or lose, your spirit does us honor.”

Elder Lü’s eyes misted over. He flew down to the arena, leaning close to whisper in Han Yu’s ear.

“Be careful. This Lin Lingxiu… he is strange. Whatever happens, do not kill him.”

“I understand,” Han Yu whispered back. “Master… watch me vent your anger.”

He walked up the steps, his sword in hand.

Elder Lü retreated, leaving the stage to the two young men. There would be no referee this time.

Han Yu and Lin Lingxiu stood opposite each other.

“You are stronger than the others,” Lin Lingxiu said, hovering on his spindle. His starry eyes bored into Han Yu, dissecting him. “Perfect. Let me test you.”

Han Yu didn’t speak. He simply reached down and unclipped the Spirit Beast Bag at his waist.

He saw through the Spirit Sword Sect’s techniques. He controls the battlefield with those threads. Illusions and standard spells won’t work on those eyes.

If I want to win without exposing the Blood Refining Technique… I have to get creative.

The crowd held its breath. They knew Han Yu’s style—illusions, swordplay, and that black crow. But against an opponent who could literally see through deception, Han Yu was starting at a massive disadvantage.

Could the genius of Wanchun Valley actually win?