Chapter 605 - 601: Soundly Defeating Jiang Ying
Chapter 605: Chapter 601: Soundly Defeating Jiang Ying
A short while later, the referee arrived.
It was the same white-haired elder as before.
He walked slowly to the front of the Battle Platform, his placid gaze sweeping over the crowd before he took a scroll from his sleeve and slowly unfurled it.
"The fourth round. The rules are the same as the other day: winners advance, losers are eliminated."
With no further preamble, he directly read the names for the first match.
The battles proceeded one after another.
Every prodigy who had made it this far possessed a Cultivation of at least the Middle or Late Stage of the Third Grade. Combined with their ability to fight above their Realm, every exchange created a significant disturbance.
The gleam of blades and swords crisscrossed the stage, and the explosive booms of colliding Qi Force echoed relentlessly throughout the venue.
Fang Han stood at the edge of the crowd with his hands behind his back, his calm eyes sweeping over the platform.
After watching a few matches, he had already gotten a general grasp of the contestants’ power levels in this round.
There were quite a few Second Grade Martial Artists. Some of their auras even faintly touched the threshold of the First Grade, having reached the true peak of the Second Grade.
But to him, the only real threats were those who had already stepped into the First Grade, like Zhen Feixuan.
"Next match: Fang Han of Qingyang County versus Jiang Ying of Celestial Water County."
The white-haired elder’s voice rang out across the venue, reaching every ear with perfect clarity.
Fang Han’s brow twitched almost imperceptibly.
’What a small world for enemies!’
He took a step and walked onto the Battle Platform at a measured pace.
Across from him, a figure in black, Jiang Ying, leaped onto the stage at the same time.
His black clothes whipped about in the morning wind. A cold sneer played on Jiang Ying’s lips as his gaze fell upon Fang Han.
His look was condescending and appraising, as if he were sizing up a mildly interesting plaything.
"I didn’t think I’d actually get to face you."
He spoke, his voice filled with undisguised contempt.
"The opponents you faced these past few days were too weak. That’s the only reason you’ve made it this far. Today, your luck runs out."
He tilted his head, his tone mocking.
"Don’t worry, I won’t beat you right away. That would be too boring. I’ll treat you the same way I treated that companion of yours."
A low murmur of discussion rose from below the stage. Many strange looks darted back and forth between Fang Han and Jiang Ying.
Someone whispered to a companion nearby:
"This Jiang Ying... could he not know about Fang Han’s strength? How dare he provoke him like this?"
The companion whispered back, a hint of schadenfreude in their voice:
"Who knows? Maybe he really doesn’t know, or maybe he knows but thinks he’s stronger. This is going to be a good show."
The white-haired elder glanced at Fang Han and Jiang Ying, then retreated to the edge of the Battle Platform. His voice was flat as he said:
"Begin."
The instant his voice fell—
Jiang Ying moved first.
He took a single step, his black clothes snapping sharply in the wind as the Inner Qi of a Middle Stage of Second Grade expert erupted from him without reservation.
The longsword in his hand let out a piercing shriek as a pale blue sword light condensed upon its blade, becoming almost tangible.
Carrying a fierce intent that seemed to tear the air, it transformed into a straight bolt of blue silk, stabbing directly at Fang Han.
The speed of this sword strike was astonishing.
As the blade passed, the air let out a piercing whistle. The fine dust on the platform’s surface was swept up by the Sword Qi, leaving a visible white trail behind the sword light.
Below the stage, many people’s expressions changed slightly, and someone gasped in a low voice.
"The power of that strike... it’s already comparable to an ordinary Early First Grade Martial Artist!"
"To unleash the battle power of an ordinary Early First Grade Martial Artist with the Cultivation of the Middle Stage of Second Grade... he’s crossed a full two Minor Realms!"
"And one of those Minor Realms is the one between Great Realms! The difference in power isn’t comparable to a normal Minor Realm. As expected of Celestial Water County, one of the Central Thirty-Six Counties. The prodigies they produce are truly extraordinary!"
"No wonder Jiang Ying is so arrogant. He really has the capital to back it up."
Fang Han stood his ground, not dodging.
Just as the blue sword light was about to touch him, his right hand slowly rose, rested on the hilt of his sword, and drew.
The Cloud Splitting Sword left its sheath, its dark cyan blade gleaming with a restrained brilliance.
He executed a casual diagonal slash.
He didn’t use his full strength, merely swinging the sword offhandedly.
But even so, it unleashed terrifying power.
"CLANG—!"
A deafening clash of metal exploded on the stage.
A visible shockwave of air erupted from the point of impact between their swords, spreading rapidly outward.
It swept up the fine dust that had settled overnight, forming a murky ripple in midair.
Jiang Ying felt an irresistible, immense force travel up his sword. The power was so condensed it felt tangible, surging into his body through his arm with a destructive, tyrannical might.
He grunted, his body sliding back uncontrollably for several yards, his feet plowing two shallow grooves into the White Jade surface of the platform.
He stabilized himself and glanced down at his sword hand—the webbing between his thumb and forefinger was sore and numb, and his fingers trembled slightly.
He looked up at Fang Han, the cold sneer gone from his lips, replaced by incredulous shock.
"You..."
"So arrogant. I thought you were supposed to be some big shot?"
Fang Han didn’t pursue. He simply stood with his sword in hand, watching Jiang Ying coolly.
He wasn’t in a hurry to defeat Jiang Ying. He intended to do to Jiang Ying exactly what Jiang Ying had done to Luo Yuntian.
"Don’t get cocky!"
Jiang Ying gritted his teeth, took a deep breath, and his Inner Qi erupted once more.
This time, he pushed his Cultivation to its absolute limit. His longsword vibrated, and layers of pale blue sword-shadows materialized on the blade, rippling like water.
As he thrust his sword forward, the overlapping sword-shadows transformed into an all-encompassing Sword Curtain that descended upon Fang Han.
The power of this strike was the pinnacle of his entire life’s Cultivation, enough to trouble even an ordinary Early First Grade Martial Artist.
However, Fang Han simply raised his hand again, swinging the Cloud Splitting Sword in an upward arc.
There were no fancy Transformations, no dazzling brilliance—only a sharpness condensed to its absolute peak.
"SHLIIICK—"
With a soft sound like tearing silk, the all-encompassing blue Sword Curtain was ripped open the moment it touched the Cyan Sword Light.
Jiang Ying’s Sword Momentum was split down the middle. His Sword Qi dissipated, and his body staggered back uncontrollably.
Fang Han stepped forward.
He thrust the Cloud Splitting Sword forward again. The strike wasn’t fast, but it landed precisely on Jiang Ying’s right shoulder.
PFFT!
The sword tip pierced through Jiang Ying’s black martial attire, then through a layer of high-Grade Soft Armor, leaving a finger-deep wound in his right shoulder.
Blood seeped out instantly, staining the fabric on his shoulder red.
"Urk—!"
Jiang Ying grunted, stumbling backward.
He gritted his teeth, trying to stabilize himself and counterattack, but Fang Han’s sword was already lunging again.
This time, it struck his left ribs.
It too pierced his Soft Armor, leaving a wound as blood soaked his robes.
The third sword strike left a bloody gash on Jiang Ying’s side.
The fourth landed on the outside of Jiang Ying’s right thigh.
The fifth sliced across Jiang Ying’s left arm.
One strike after another, neither fast nor slow, yet all perfectly precise.
Each strike left a new wound on Jiang Ying’s body. Each was just enough to injure him, but not enough to make him lose his ability to fight and end the match.
Fang Han’s expression remained calm throughout. His eyes held no emotion, only a focus so calm it was almost cold.
Jiang Ying’s face grew paler and paler.
He could feel his stamina draining rapidly with the blood loss, his strength ebbing away from his body.
He tried to counterattack, but Fang Han’s sword was too fast, too steady, too accurate.
Every counter was effortlessly neutralized, only to be answered with another wound.
Below the stage, the murmurs of the crowd grew louder.
"With the strength Fang Han is showing, he could easily beat Jiang Ying. The fact that he hasn’t... it looks like he’s angry!"
"After being provoked like that, I’d be angry too!"
"Provoking someone so much stronger than you without having the strength to back it up... Jiang Ying brought this on himself."
"Jiang Ying has completely lost face now."
Jiang Ying heard the crowd’s comments, his face turning ashen.
He suddenly bit the tip of his tongue, and his Inner Qi exploded forth in a near self-destructive manner. The blue light on his sword flared, and he thrust it toward Fang Han’s chest, channeling all his remaining power.
It was an all-or-nothing gamble.
Fang Han sidestepped, letting the blade pass. He pressed his Cloud Splitting Sword downward, the flat of the blade striking the wrist of Jiang Ying’s sword hand.
"CRACK—"
A sharp crack of bone breaking rang out.
The longsword flew from Jiang Ying’s grasp, tumbled through the air several times, and landed with a CLANG on the platform ten yards away.
The next moment, Fang Han lifted his foot and kicked Jiang Ying in the chest.
BOOM!
Like a kite with its string cut, Jiang Ying was sent flying backward. He carved a parabola through the air before crashing violently onto the ground below the stage, tumbling several times before he came to a stop.
A series of gasps came from the audience.
Jiang Ying struggled to get up, but the movement pulled at the wounds all over his body. He grunted in pain and collapsed back to a sitting position.
More than ten wounds all over his body ached at once. Blood had soaked through most of his black martial attire, pooling beneath him in a small, shocking puddle of dark red.
"Jiang Ying is defeated."
The white-haired elder’s flat voice announced.
Fang Han sheathed his sword and walked off the Battle Platform at a measured pace.
The contestants who had been whispering among themselves all fell silent.
All eyes fell on Fang Han, filled with deep apprehension.
"Looks like Jiang Ying really kicked an iron plate this time..."
someone muttered, their voice laced with a hint of schadenfreude.
"Serves him right for being so arrogant. Now he’s gone and shamed the entire younger generation of our Celestial Water County."
"He should’ve weighed his own abilities before provoking someone."
"He probably never imagined a prodigy from an ordinary county could be this strong, huh?"
"He didn’t lose unfairly. The power Fang Han just displayed was already comparable to a normal Late-stage First Grade Martial Artist. And from how relaxed he looks, he probably wasn’t even using his full strength."
"That wasn’t even his full strength? Then how strong is he when he goes all out?"
The discussions weren’t loud, but they were like invisible needles, piercing the collapsed Jiang Ying from all directions.
Jiang Ying kept his head down, his fists clenched so tightly his nails dug deep into his palms.
He could feel their stares and hear their words, each one a knife twisting in his heart.
First, a crushing defeat, and now being discussed like a laughingstock. The two emotions intertwined, surging and crashing within his chest.
He snapped his head up, his lips moved as if to say something—but he couldn’t get the words out.
"Ptoo!"
A mouthful of blood sprayed from his mouth, splattering onto the White Jade ground before him.
He pushed himself up from the ground, swaying unsteadily. Head bowed, he picked up his sword, turned without a word, and walked toward the venue’s exit.
His steps were faltering, and his retreating figure cast a long shadow in the sunlight.