Chapter 606 - 602: Eight First-Grades
Chapter 606: Chapter 602: Eight First-Grades
「On the morning of the fifth day.」
After finishing breakfast, Fang Han left the Royal Villa with Luo Yuntian, Liu Bai, Mad Saber, and the others, heading for the Martial Arts Assembly venue.
Accompanying them were the First-Grade Elders from the various sects. Except for the Qingxuan Sect, all the other sects had dispatched First-Grade Elders to escort them.
It wasn’t that the Qingxuan Sect didn’t take it seriously, but with Fang Han’s current strength, few of the Qingxuan Sect’s First-Grade Elders were his match. There was no need to send a First-Grade Elder with him.
The group walked along the wide streets of the Imperial Capital toward the Martial Arts Assembly venue. The streets were much more crowded than usual.
Most were heading in the same direction, clearly spectators on their way to watch the matches.
When they reached the entrance to the venue, Fang Han and the others presented their Jade Tokens. A Colonel of the Imperial Guard, clad in Profound Armor, inspected the tokens and spoke.
"According to the assembly’s rules, from today onward, contestants whose matches have concluded may no longer enter the Battle Platform area. They can only proceed to the spectator stands to watch."
Luo Yuntian and the others were slightly taken aback. They had originally planned to go to the Battle Platform area to cheer for Fang Han, but now it seemed that wasn’t possible.
"Senior Brother Fang, we’ll go to the spectator stands to cheer you on," Luo Yuntian said to Fang Han.
With that, he, along with Liu Bai, Mad Saber, and the accompanying Elders, turned into a side passage and headed toward the spectator stands.
Fang Han watched them leave before walking through the passage alone and stepping into the venue—
Then, he stopped dead in his tracks.
The spectator stands were a sea of black, the heads of the crowd nearly filling the entire area. The stands, which could hold a hundred thousand people, were already more than half full.
A clamor of voices echoed through the venue like a tidal wave. The sounds merged, forming an invisible wave of heat that washed over him.
"Wh-Why are there so many people?"
Beside Fang Han, a young man, another contestant, couldn’t help but exclaim in a low voice filled with incredulous shock.
"Today’s the fifth round. There aren’t many people left, so the level of the duels is higher. Naturally, there are more spectators."
Another person chimed in, their voice also holding a hint of amazement:
"I heard that the further along we get, the more spectators there will be. By the day of the finals, all one hundred thousand seats will be filled."
"You guys, look! The Battle Platform!"
A young female contestant’s voice suddenly rang out, filled with irrepressible surprise.
Fang Han followed the young woman’s finger and looked, his pupils constricting slightly.
The twenty Battle Platforms that had originally been scattered throughout the venue had now all vanished—
No, not vanished, but merged into one.
In the very center of the venue lay a massive, rectangular Battle Platform. It was built entirely of the same stone material as the Martial Arts Stele and was over a hundred zhang long on each side, as flat and open as a small public square.
Fine lines crisscrossed its surface—the seams left behind after the twenty Battle Platforms had merged. They were almost imperceptible without close inspection.
"The Battle Platforms can actually move..." Fang Han muttered to himself.
One contestant stared at the enormous Battle Platform for a long time, his voice full of awe: "To move such a massive Battle Platform using mechanisms... the Royal Family’s methods are truly admirable."
"Twenty Battle Platforms that can move and merge," another added. "This is the first time I’ve ever seen such a grand display."
"I heard from an Elder who watched a previous Martial Arts Assembly that the platforms could move," a third contestant said, "but seeing it with my own eyes is still shocking."
Fang Han walked toward the massive Battle Platform.
The closer he got to the platform, the heavier the air seemed to become.
Dozens of contestants had already gathered by the side of the Battle Platform.
Some stood, others sat. Their gazes were either calm or sharp, and they cast long, distinct shadows in the morning light.
Fang Han walked to the edge of the Battle Platform and found a relatively inconspicuous spot to stand.
The moment he settled, several gazes fell upon him from different directions.
The gazes weren’t sharp, but they carried an invisible pressure, silently pressing down on Fang Han like a mountain.
It was a silent probing.
Fang Han’s expression remained unchanged. He simply stood with his hands behind his back, as if the gazes had nothing to do with him.
BZZZ—
Silently activating the Netherworld Guide, Fang Han’s exceptionally sharp perception spread out around him like an invisible spiderweb.
A moment later, his heart tightened.
Among the dozens of people present, the number of First Grade Martial Artists far exceeded his expectations.
Besides Zhen Feixuan, whom he had already confirmed, there were four other auras, equally deep and formidable, carrying the oppressive feeling that only those who had stepped into the First Grade could possess.
’Five people...’
Fang Han repeated the number silently in his mind.
Including Zhen Feixuan, there were a total of five First Grade Martial Artists.
And that probably wasn’t all of them, since not all the contestants had arrived yet.
Just as Fang Han was focusing his senses, a slight commotion came from the venue’s entrance.
Fang Han looked up to see a figure striding out from the passage.
It was a young man who looked to be about twenty-seven or twenty-eight. He wore a dark gold martial uniform, his posture as straight as a pine tree. His face was stern, and his brows carried an oppressive, cutting edge.
A long saber with a wide mouth hung at his waist. Its sheath was wrapped in some kind of dark red beast hide that faintly shimmered with light, clearly an extraordinary item.
"It’s Qin Yuan!"
Beside him, a contestant spoke in a hushed tone filled with irrepressible gravity.
"Qin Yuan from the Overlord-level Influence, Dragon Abyss Pavilion. He’s recognized as one of the three strongest."
Fang Han’s gaze fell on the figure in dark gold as he recalled the information he had on the man.
Qin Yuan didn’t walk quickly, but every step he took seemed to carry a strange rhythm, and the ground seemed to tremble slightly beneath his feet.
He walked to the edge of the Battle Platform, stopped in an empty spot, and slowly swept his gaze over everyone present. His eyes were calm and profound.
The chatter in the crowd gradually died down, as if suppressed by his invisible aura.
Not long after, another figure walked in from the venue’s entrance.
This was a young woman in her early twenties, dressed in a cyan martial uniform.
Her trousers reached her ankles, revealing her snow-white ankles and a pair of light cyan short boots.
Her jet-black hair was casually pinned up with a Jade Hairpin, with a few loose strands falling by her ears, lending her beautiful, otherworldly face a hint of languor.
Her features were exquisite, her eyes like a painting, and her skin as white as snow. Her beauty was different from Zhen Feixuan’s bright and flamboyant style; it possessed the clear, tranquil grace of a landscape painting.
"Lin Qingyin... It’s Lin Qingyin from the Overlord-level Influence, the Biluo Sect..."
"She’s also one of the Ten Great Beauties of the Imperial Capital, just as famous as Zhen Feixuan."
"I hear her cultivation has not only reached the First Grade, but she’s far from being a newcomer to it."
Someone spoke in a low voice, filled with unconcealed amazement—amazement for both her beauty and her cultivation.
Lin Qingyin walked to the edge of the Battle Platform, her gaze sweeping over the crowd before pausing for a moment on Zhen Feixuan.
The gazes of the two women—both among the Ten Great Beauties of the Imperial Capital and both survivors of the Martial Arts Assembly to this point—met in that instant.
There was no hostility, no provocation, just a moment of calm eye contact.
Then, they both looked away.
A moment later, a third eye-catching figure appeared.
It was a young man in a moon-white robe. He was handsome with a cool, aloof temperament, and an ancient longsword hung at his waist.
His steps were unhurried and steady, yet each one seemed to carry a sharp edge like Sword Intent, making it difficult for others to look at him directly.
"Chu Jinghong from the Overlord-level Influence, the Cangwu Sword Sect."
Fang Han’s gaze fell on the moon-white figure; he had already guessed the newcomer’s identity.
Chu Jinghong walked to the edge of the Battle Platform and stood with his hands behind his back. His calm eyes held an extreme purity.
Born for the sword, to die for the sword.
It was as if nothing else existed for him but the sword.
With the arrival of Qin Yuan, Lin Qingyin, and Chu Jinghong, the atmosphere by the Battle Platform grew even heavier.
’Eight First Grade Martial Artists...’
Fang Han’s expression was grave. Through the perception of his Netherworld Guide, the number of First Grade Martial Artists had now reached eight.
As for the other contestants, the weakest among them were Second Grade Martial Artists; there was not a single one below Second Grade.
Clearly, all who had made it this far were exceptionally strong. The weak had already been eliminated.
More people arrived one after another, until a total of sixty-four contestants had gathered near the Battle Platform.
In the spectator stands, someone sighed quietly.
"The top sixty-four... To fight their way here from over a thousand prodigies, every single one of them can be called a supreme prodigy among prodigies."
"The ones who make it to the end will surely be one of those eight prodigies who are already First Grade Martial Artists. Qin Yuan, Lin Qingyin, and Chu Jinghong, in particular, have the best chance."
"So the others have no hope? Besides the eight prodigies with First Grade Cultivation, there are a few prodigies with Second Grade Cultivation whose strength is also quite good. They’ve all won their matches easily, so their skills shouldn’t be underestimated."
"No matter how strong they are, they’re still just Second Grade. There’s still a significant gap between them and First Grade. It’ll be difficult for them to make it to the end."
"That’s true..."
In the distance, Luo Yuntian, Liu Bai, and Mad Saber sat in the spectator stands, their eyes locked on Fang Han’s figure.
"I wonder if Senior Brother Fang can win today..." Luo Yuntian muttered to himself.
Although he had great faith in Fang Han’s strength, the opponents Fang Han now faced were simply too powerful. Among them were even prodigies who had reached First Grade Cultivation.
If his luck was bad and he ran into a First Grade prodigy, he would probably be eliminated today.
"Even if he’s eliminated today, it’s still an excellent result!" Liu Bai and the others exclaimed with emotion.
By reaching the top sixty-four, Fang Han had already achieved the best result for Qingyang County in several decades.
They didn’t have to wait long. Soon, five figures walked out slowly from a side passage.
The leader of the group had white hair and a white beard, a lean face, and wore a crimson robe that fluttered slightly in the morning breeze.
His aura was as deep and restrained as an abyss. He showed no signs of being a powerhouse, yet everyone present couldn’t help but hold their breath.
Behind him followed four elderly men in robes of various colors. Each of them had an equally deep and unfathomable aura, and they walked so lightly that their footsteps were nearly inaudible.
’Five Grandmasters...’
Fang Han sensed their auras. As expected, all five were Grandmaster Powerhouses.
Moreover, their auras were even stronger than that of Supreme Elder Gu Changqing. Their strength was clearly far beyond that of a newly-ascended Grandmaster; even among Grandmasters, they were definitely considered quite powerful.
The five Grandmasters walked slowly to the high platform in front of the Battle Platform and took their positions.
The crimson-robed elder in the lead slowly swept his gaze over the sixty-four figures below. His cloudy yet profound eyes betrayed no emotion.
"The fifth round."
He spoke. His voice wasn’t loud, but it reached every person’s ears clearly, carrying an authority that could not be questioned.
"It is still one-on-one elimination. The winner advances to the next round, the loser is eliminated."
"The rules are the same as the previous days. No intentional killing, no use of poison, and no use of Hidden Weapons."
He paused, his gaze sweeping over the crowd.
"Violators will be severely punished without exception."