Chapter 607 - 603: Passing the Fifth Round
Chapter 607: Chapter 603: Passing the Fifth Round
The red-robed elder at the lead took a scroll from his sleeve and unrolled it. His gaze swept across it, and he read out two names:
"First match: Qin Yuan of Longxing County versus Tie Xiong of Desert North County."
From within the crowd, Qin Yuan’s dark gold figure stepped forward at the call.
He walked with a composed gait, each step carrying a rhythm as steady as a mountain, as if he were treading a path in his own backyard, not a Battle Platform.
Opposite him, a burly figure also strode onto the platform.
It was an extremely stout man with dark skin and gnarled muscles, carrying a giant blade on his shoulder that looked like a door panel.
With every step he took, the platform surface let out a dull tremor.
The red-robed elder glanced at the two, retreated to the edge of the high platform, and said flatly:
"Begin."
The moment his voice fell—Tie Xiong moved first.
He took a step forward, the platform beneath his feet shaking violently. The giant blade, wrapped in a shriek that tore through the air, came crashing down toward Qin Yuan’s head with Mountain-Splitting Stone-Shattering Momentum.
Before the Sword Gang had even landed, the sharp wind from the blade had already scraped a faint white mark onto the ground.
This was stone that even a Grandmaster would find difficult to damage. To be able to leave a white mark on it was enough to show the terrifying level of his power.
Qin Yuan didn’t dodge. He didn’t even draw his blade.
He simply raised his right hand, brought his index and middle fingers together, and gently flicked the side of the door-panel-like giant blade.
DING—
A sound as crisp as a Jade Chime being struck echoed throughout the entire venue.
The sound wasn’t loud, yet it pierced through the whistling of the Sword Gang as it broke the air, reaching every person’s ears with perfect clarity.
Tie Xiong only felt a Power, condensed to its absolute limit, travel up from the blade’s body, shocking his entire right arm into instant, aching numbness.
The giant blade flew from his grasp, tumbled several times in the air, and crashed onto the platform thirty feet away with a loud CLANG. The body of the blade continued to hum and tremble.
Tie Xiong looked down at his empty right hand, then looked up at Qin Yuan, his dark face filled with disbelief.
Qin Yuan had already withdrawn his hand and stood with them clasped behind his back. His expression was calm, as if he had just casually brushed away a leaf that had fallen on his shoulder.
"Qin Yuan of Longxing County is victorious."
The red-robed elder’s flat voice broke the dead silence below the stage.
An uproar of discussion also erupted from the audience.
Qin Yuan turned and walked off the Battle Platform at a leisurely pace, coming to a stop at the edge of the crowd.
He gazed ahead calmly. The previous battle hadn’t even been enough to warm him up.
Fang Han’s eyes lingered on Qin Yuan for a moment, and a chill ran through his heart.
’Defeating an opponent with a single finger, and with such a casual strike at that... His strength is simply unfathomable.’
The next few battles were all quite intense.
The weakest of those who had made it this far possessed combat strength comparable to a Middle Stage of First Grade Martial Artist and could easily defeat an ordinary First Grade Martial Artist.
Afterward, Lin Qingyin and Chu Jinghong were called to the stage one after another, and the strength they displayed was identical to Qin Yuan’s.
No matter how desperately their opponents fought, they were like children facing adults, not even worthy of forcing them to get serious.
Lin Qingyin’s opponent was a woman who used dual spears. The woman’s Spear Technique was sharp and ruthless, each thrust carrying a momentum that could pierce metal and shatter stone, leaving behind a trail of white marks on the platform.
However, Lin Qingyin merely struck out with a single palm, and the woman was sent flying, along with her spears, for several dozen yards.
When she landed, she staggered for several steps before barely managing to steady herself, her face deathly pale.
Chu Jinghong’s opponent was a large man wielding a staff. The man’s staff technique was wide and powerful. With one sweep of his staff, a gale howled, making it seem as if a Level 10 typhoon had appeared on the stage.
Chu Jinghong drew his sword. With just a single strike, the iron staff in the large man’s hands was severed into two pieces.
The web of his thumb split open, and fresh blood dripped down the broken staff.
Below the stage, the expressions of the contestants with Second Grade Cultivation all grew solemn.
Although they had long known that the three were immensely powerful, witnessing such a crushing display firsthand still made them feel a sense of powerlessness.
"Next match: Fang Han of Qingyang County versus Liu Ru of Baiyun County."
The red-robed elder’s voice rang out.
A thought flickered in Fang Han’s mind as he strode toward the stage. His expression was as placid as water, showing not the slightest hint of nervousness.
Opposite him, a slender figure ascended the stage at the same time.
It was a woman who appeared to be around twenty-seven or twenty-eight years old. She was of above-average looks, dressed in a dark cyan martial arts uniform, with a long, thin Soft Sword hanging at her waist.
Her face wasn’t stunning, but her eyes were as sharp as an eagle’s, revealing an undisguised edge.
"Please."
Liu Ru clasped her hands in a slight bow, her voice cool and detached.
"Please."
Fang Han returned the gesture.
The red-robed elder glanced at the two, retreated to the edge of the high platform, and said flatly:
"Begin."
The moment his voice fell, Liu Ru moved first.
She took a step forward, her dark cyan uniform snapping sharply in the wind as the power of her Late Stage of Second Grade Cultivation erupted without reservation.
The Soft Sword in her hand suddenly went taut, transforming into a straight bolt of cyan light. A nearly tangible sword glint condensed at its tip as it shrieked through the air, stabbing straight for Fang Han’s throat.
The sword strike was astonishingly fast. Where its edge passed, the air was torn open, leaving a clearly visible white scar that lingered in the morning light.
The fine dust on the platform was swept up by the Sword Qi, trailing a murky path behind the flash of the sword.
A flicker of emotion crossed Fang Han’s eyes.
’The power of this strike is already comparable to an ordinary Late-stage First Grade Martial Artist.’
’To unleash combat power comparable to the Late Stage of First Grade with only a Late Stage of Second Grade Cultivation—this level of Talent is top-level even in the Central Thirty-Six Counties.’
He didn’t get arrogant. The Cloud Splitting Sword left its sheath.
KENG—
The clear cry of the sword, like a dragon’s roar, exploded throughout the venue.
The dark cyan blade flowed with a restrained brilliance. He executed the Sky-Splitting Sword Technique, unleashing combat power comparable to that of a First-Breakthrough Martial Artist.
He met her strike with a sword thrust of his own.
The flash of his sword collided fiercely with the bolt of cyan light in mid-air.
DANG—!!!
A deafening clang of metal rang out, and a visible shockwave of air erupted from the point of impact, spreading rapidly in all directions.
The shockwave kicked up the fine dust on the platform, forming a murky ripple in mid-air that even made the contestants standing below the stage narrow their eyes.
Liu Ru felt an immense, irresistible force travel up from her sword. The power was so condensed it felt tangible, carrying a sharpness that seemed to tear through everything as it surged up her arm and into her body.
She grunted, her body sliding back uncontrollably for several yards. Her feet plowed two clear tracks into the White Jade surface of the platform.
Surprised by Fang Han’s combat strength, she didn’t panic. Before she had even regained her footing, she flicked her Soft Sword out again.
The blade snaked through the air like a serpent, transforming into dozens of cyan arcs of light, making it difficult to tell which were real and which were illusory. They enveloped Fang Han from all sorts of tricky angles, aiming for his vital points.
She had pushed her Swordsmanship to its absolute limit.
Each arc of light was condensed and real, carrying a sharp Sword Qi powerful enough to pierce an ordinary First Grade Martial Artist, leaving fine white trails in the air.
Fang Han did not retreat.
He stepped forward and swung the Cloud Splitting Sword in a horizontal slash.
The strike wasn’t fast, but where the edge of the blade passed, the air silently split open, forming a fine, thread-like crack.
The crack lingered, refusing to dissipate, like a fissure of pure blackness.
SHHIIING—
A soft sound, like silk being torn.
The moment the dozens of illusory and real cyan arcs touched the black fissure, they were torn apart as if made of paper, completely annihilated.
Liu Ru’s pupils contracted sharply.
She used all her strength to bring the Soft Sword horizontally in front of her, attempting to block the power of the strike.
But Fang Han’s strike was too fast, too fierce. Her hasty defense was like a praying mantis trying to stop a chariot.
The sword light struck her blade, producing a dull clang of metal.
DANG—!
Liu Ru felt her entire right arm go instantly numb, and the Soft Sword flew from her hand.
It tumbled through the air in a parabolic arc, landing several yards away on the platform, the blade still humming and vibrating.
She looked down at her empty right hand, then looked up at Fang Han.
In those sharp eyes, the initial edge had been replaced by a complex mix of emotions—unwillingness to concede, shock, and also a trace of sincere admiration.
"Fang Han of Qingyang County is victorious."
The white-haired elder’s flat voice rang out.
Liu Ru took a deep breath, bent down to pick up her Soft Sword from the ground, sheathed it, and gave Fang Han a clasped-hand bow.
"Thank you for showing mercy."
Without another word, she turned and walked off the Battle Platform.
Her back was ramrod straight, but her steps were a little heavier than when she had first come onto the stage.
Fang Han sheathed his sword, turned, and walked off the stage at a leisurely pace.
The hem of his white robe fluttered slightly with his steps. His expression was as calm as ever, as if the battle had been nothing more than a routine practice session.
Below the stage, dozens of gazes fell upon Fang Han.
Qin Yuan’s deep eyes rested on Fang Han for a moment before he looked away, his expression still calm and unreadable.
Lin Qingyin stood on the other side of the crowd. Her elegant eyes swept over Fang Han, and a faint ripple of emotion flickered in their depths.
She gently twirled a loose strand of hair by her ear. She didn’t speak, but she had already committed his name to memory.
’To have a Late Stage of Second Grade Cultivation but unleash combat strength comparable to an ordinary First-Breakthrough Martial Artist... this ability to fight above one’s level is truly top-level.’
Chu Jinghong’s gaze also landed on Fang Han. A minuscule ripple spread through his cold eyes before they returned to their usual stillness.
His fingers, resting on his sword hilt, tightened slightly, but he didn’t say anything.
Zhen Feixuan’s shimmering gaze lingered on Fang Han for a moment.
She had long suspected that Fang Han was no simple character, but she never expected him to be this strong.
’He has some strength, but he’s no threat to us!’
The other four First Grade Martial Artists also glanced at Fang Han, each making their own calculations.
’This person certainly has some strength, but it’s not enough to threaten contestants like us who have already stepped into the First Grade.’
However, the faces of the contestants with Second Grade Cultivation were far from relaxed.
A young man in a dark blue martial arts uniform stood at the back of the crowd, his eyes fixed on Fang Han’s back, his brow tightly furrowed.
He lowered his voice and said to an acquaintance beside him:
"With a Late Stage of Second Grade Cultivation, he unleashed the combat power of a First-Breakthrough Martial Artist. This Fang Han... his combat power has leaped four Minor Realms above his Cultivation, and two of those are Minor Realms that span between Great Realms."
Hearing this, the acquaintance’s face also grew solemn, his voice tinged with an irrepressible fear:
"Fighting above one’s level is as easy as drinking water for prodigies like us, but to jump so many Minor Realms... and still win so easily... This man’s strength is arguably the greatest below the eight First Grade Martial Artists."
Another person chimed in, their voice laced with a bit of worry.
"If we run into him in the next round of matches, our chances of winning will be slim to none."