Chapter 608 - 604: The Strongest Below First Grade?
Chapter 608: Chapter 604: The Strongest Below First Grade?
Similar hushed discussions rose and fell throughout the crowd.
When the contestants with Second Grade Cultivation glanced at Fang Han, their eyes couldn’t help but carry a hint of nervousness and apprehension.
Fang Han seemed oblivious to these gazes. He simply returned to his previous spot and stood with his hands clasped behind his back.
He could feel the weight of their stares, but his composure remained undisturbed.
Just then, a gaze shot from the other side of the crowd. It carried an undisguised sharpness, like a drawn sword, landing directly on him.
Fang Han looked up and met a pair of calm yet sharp eyes.
Bai Yan.
He stood at the edge of the crowd, hands clasped behind his back, his moon-white robes fluttering gently in the wind.
His eyes on Fang Han held no hostility or apprehension—only a pure battle intent, the kind that flares when sword edges meet.
Fang Han met his gaze. The two of them locked eyes for a silent moment across the crowd.
The corner of Bai Yan’s mouth curved into an extremely faint smile before he retracted his gaze and looked back toward the huge Battle Platform.
His fingers, gripping his sword hilt, tightened slightly.
Having witnessed Fang Han’s strength, not only did he not shrink back, but his desire to face Fang Han grew even stronger.
In the stands, the discussions were just as lively.
A middle-aged man in brocade robes with a wealthy-looking face leaned back in his chair, his eyes fixed on Fang Han as he clucked his tongue in amazement.
"To unleash combat power comparable to a First-Breakthrough Martial Artist with only a Late-Stage Second Grade Cultivation... His combat power leaps a full four Minor Realms above his Cultivation. This Fang Han is truly incredible."
"This young man’s strength is probably the greatest among all those below the eight First Grade Martial Artists."
Beside him, a white-haired, white-bearded old man stroked his beard and nodded, his voice tinged with admiration.
"’The strongest below First Grade, you say...’"
On the other side, a woman’s eyes glinted as she asked with curiosity.
"Compared to Bai Yan, who is also from the Celestial Essence Sect, who would come out on top?"
"Bai Yan?"
The old man frowned slightly, his gaze searching the crowd.
"That disciple from the Celestial Essence Sect? I heard he also won his previous rounds with ease. His strength is unfathomable, but since we haven’t seen him go all out, it’s hard to say."
Just then, the red-robed elder’s voice rang out again:
"Next match: Bai Yan of Celestial Essence County versus Liu Zhen of Jinhe County."
From the crowd, Bai Yan stepped forward in response.
His steps were unhurried, each one landing with a steady rhythm.
Across from him, a burly figure also strode onto the platform.
It was a man approaching thirty with a rugged face, holding a heavy Familiar Copper Rod.
The rod was as thick as a child’s arm and had a dull sheen, clearly a hefty weapon.
The red-robed elder glanced at the two of them, retreated to the edge of the high platform, and said flatly:
"Begin."
The moment his voice fell, Liu Zhen moved first.
He took a step, the platform shaking violently beneath his feet. The Familiar Copper Rod whistled through the air as it smashed straight for Bai Yan’s head.
The blow was heavy and fierce, the wind from the rod forcing a low whimper from the air.
The fine dust on the platform was swept up, leaving a murky trail behind the rod.
Bai Yan drew his sword. Imbued with Wood Sword Intent, he unleashed a swift slash.
TING—
A sound as crisp as the striking of a Jade Chime echoed through the arena.
The sound wasn’t loud, but it pierced through the whistle of the rod and reached everyone’s ears with perfect clarity.
Liu Zhen felt an incredibly condensed Power travel up the rod, instantly numbing his entire right arm with the shock.
The Familiar Copper Rod flew from his grasp. It tumbled through the air several times before crashing onto the platform thirty feet away with a CLANG, its shaft still humming and vibrating.
Liu Zhen looked down at his empty right hand, then up at Bai Yan, his dark face filled with disbelief.
He opened his mouth as if to say something, but then gave up dejectedly.
Bai Yan had already re-sheathed his sword and was standing with his hands behind his back, his expression calm, as if he had just brushed a fallen leaf from his shoulder.
"Bai Yan of Celestial Essence County wins."
The red-robed elder’s voice rang out, flat and emotionless.
In the stands, the chatter suddenly erupted.
"He disarmed his opponent with a single strike! This Bai Yan’s strength is truly extraordinary!"
Someone exclaimed in shock.
"He definitely has combat power comparable to a First-Breakthrough Martial Artist!"
Another person chimed in, their voice filled with awe.
The white-haired, white-bearded old man stroked his beard and nodded. His gaze lingered on Bai Yan for a moment before turning toward Fang Han’s direction. He spoke slowly,
"It seems that in this Martial Arts Assembly, beneath the eight First Grade Martial Artists, these two are the strongest. I wonder if they’ll meet in a future match. If they do, it will be quite a show."
Hearing this, a young Martial Artist’s eyes lit up with anticipation.
"If they do meet, I’m really looking forward to it. Who is stronger, Fang Han or Bai Yan?"
Below the platform, the expressions of the contestants with Second Grade Cultivation grew even more solemn.
The combat power Fang Han had just displayed already made them feel he was a tough opponent. Now there was Bai Yan, another fighter who could unleash the power of a First-Breakthrough Martial Artist despite having only a Late-Stage Second Grade Cultivation.
"One wasn’t enough, now there’s another..."
The young man in the dark blue martial attire from before shook his head bitterly, a note of helplessness in his voice.
"The upcoming matches will depend on luck. We just have to hope we don’t run into either of them."
The person next to him, an acquaintance, sighed as well.
Bai Yan walked off the Battle Platform and came to a stop at the edge of the crowd.
His gaze traveled over the crowd and landed on Fang Han. In his calm eyes, his battle intent was like a sword hidden in its sheath, quietly honing its edge.
’To him, the strength of the eight First Grade Martial Artists was merely due to a few more years of Cultivation, giving them a higher Cultivation than his.’
’If they fought in the same Realm, he was confident he wouldn’t be weaker than any of those eight.’
’Compared to those eight First Grade Martial Artists, he was more eager to fight Fang Han, whose Cultivation was comparable to his own and who excelled in Swordsmanship.’
...
「Early on the morning of the sixth day.」
When Fang Han stepped into the arena, he noticed the atmosphere was completely different from the day before.
The spectator stands were a sea of heads, filling almost all of the nearly one hundred thousand seats. The din of the crowd echoed through the arena like a tidal wave.
The number of contestants had been sharply reduced from yesterday’s sixty-four to thirty-two.
Fang Han walked to the left edge of the Battle Platform and stopped, his gaze sweeping over the crowd.
Many of the contestants with Second Grade Cultivation from yesterday were now gone. Those who remained all possessed even more powerful auras.
The auras of the eight First Grade Martial Artists were still as profound as the abyss. They stood in various spots among the crowd like eight insurmountable mountains.
Bai Yan stood on the other side of the crowd, his moon-white robes fluttering gently in the morning breeze. With a longsword at his waist, he stood with his hands clasped behind his back.
He seemed to sense Fang Han’s gaze and turned his head to look over. In his calm eyes, his battle intent was like a hidden sword in its sheath, quietly being sharpened.
The two locked eyes for a silent moment across the crowd before looking away.
"Which one is Fang Han?"
"The one in white, standing on the left!"
"Fang Han is the only contestant among the top thirty-two who isn’t from an Overlord-level Influence. I wonder how far he’ll go!"
...
From the stands, one could occasionally hear Fang Han’s name being mentioned. In fact, he was brought up even more often than the contestants with First Grade Cultivation.
This was because, among the top thirty-two, Fang Han was the only one not from an Overlord-level Influence.
Like a splash of color on a monochrome canvas, he naturally drew attention.
Before long, the elder in the crimson robes from yesterday walked slowly to the center of the high platform.
His gaze swept over the thirty-two figures below the platform. His voice wasn’t loud, but it reached every person’s ears clearly:
"The sixth round, the battle for the top sixteen. The rules are the same as before: winners advance, losers are eliminated."
He took a scroll from his sleeve, slowly unfurled it, and began to read out the names of the combatants.
And so, with that flat declaration, the battles began, one after another.
None who had made it this far were weak.
Flashes of blades and swords crisscrossed the platform. The booming sounds of colliding Qi Force rose and fell, echoing endlessly through the arena.
The roar from the stands swelled and subsided with the outcome of each battle.
Fang Han stood at the edge of the crowd with his hands behind his back, calmly watching the platform. In his mind, however, he was silently noting the strengths and characteristics of each winner.
’Each of these victors could potentially be my next opponent.’
After a few matches, the red-robed elder’s voice rang out again:
"Next match: Fang Han of Qingyang County versus Bai Yan of Celestial Essence County."
The moment his voice fell, a thunderous uproar of discussion erupted from the stands, so loud it nearly drowned out all other noise in the arena.
"Fang Han and Bai Yan are actually facing each other!"
It was impossible to tell if it was a matter of luck, or if the Royal Family, knowing the audience was eager to see them fight, had intentionally arranged the matchup.
But regardless, the two were now facing each other, just as the audience had hoped.
"I can’t believe they’re really matched up! This is going to be an interesting fight!"
"One is the dark horse from Qingyang County who has won every round with ease. The other is a True Inheritor from the Overlord-level Influence, the Celestial Essence Sect, who has also coasted through his matches. Who’s stronger?"
"Bai Yan is from the Celestial Essence Sect. The Martial Arts he cultivates are definitely top-level among his peers. I think Bai Yan should be stronger."
"Now that you mention it, Bai Yan’s chances of winning do seem higher."
The discussions surged through the stands like a tidal wave. Countless gazes converged from all directions, landing on the two figures who were now walking toward the Battle Platform at the same time.
Fang Han’s pace was unhurried. The hem of his white robes swayed slightly with his steps, and the Cloud Splitting Sword at his waist shifted gently. His expression was as calm as still water, showing no sign of turmoil.
Bai Yan was equally composed, his moon-white robes rustling in the wind. The simple, ancient longsword at his waist swayed gently with his stride.
His eyes were fixed on Fang Han. In those calm depths, his battle intent was a lit flame, now burning fiercely.
The two came to a stop on the platform, facing each other from a distance of over a hundred feet.
"I didn’t think we’d actually meet."
Bai Yan spoke, his voice low but filled with an irrepressible fervor.
"I’ve always regretted not having the chance to fight you during the trip to the Ancient Ruins."
Fang Han looked at Bai Yan without saying much. He simply raised his right hand slowly and placed it on the hilt of the Cloud Splitting Sword at his waist.
The red-robed elder glanced at the two of them, retreated to the edge of the high platform, and said flatly:
"Begin."
The moment the word was spoken, both figures moved at the same time!
Bai Yan’s draw was astonishingly fast. A streak of green light flashed in the morning sun, and the simple, ancient longsword was already unsheathed. Its blade was pale green, shimmering with a gentle luster.
He thrust his sword forward. There was no probing, no building up Momentum. He attacked with his full power from the very start, unleashing his combat strength, comparable to that of a First-Breakthrough Martial Artist, without reservation.
The light from his sword was like a rainbow, carrying a vigorous and unceasingly vibrant quality—it was his Wood Sword Intent.
Where the sword’s edge passed, faint, verdant phantoms seemed to appear in the air.
It was like plants in spring breaking through the soil—full of life, yet also possessing a tenacious vitality that could push through water, pierce through stone, and shatter all restraints.
This strike was so fast it surpassed the visual tracking limits of most Second Grade Martial Artists.
The fine dust on the platform was swept up by the Sword Qi, leaving a white scar several dozen feet long behind the flash of the blade.
The sharp sword wind made even the contestants watching from below the platform narrow their eyes.
In the stands, gasps of astonishment rose one after another.
"What powerful Sword Intent! He must have cultivated a Low Grade Mental Swordsmanship to an extremely high level!"
"An ordinary Late-stage First Grade Martial Artist probably couldn’t even take a single blow!"
Grasping a Mental Realm is incredibly difficult for an ordinary Cultivator.
But for the geniuses among geniuses present here, it wasn’t considered that hard. A good number of the contestants had already comprehended a Mental Realm.
However, those who could cultivate a Low Grade Mental Swordsmanship to such a degree were few and far between.