“This guy is still so detestable… Yan Zhen Zhen, should I go teach him a lesson?”
“No need. I’ll handle it myself.”
Their attention shifted to the arena.
Both combatants were the same type of mystic cultivator—wind Mystic power specialists focused on speed. One wielded a single sword, the other dual blades. They were remarkably similar, but Huangfu Wenqing possessed only the cultivation of a Six-Star Mystic Master, while White Fang’s second-in-command was a Two-Star Mystic General. The gap in their power was noticeable.
Anyone else would have lost long ago, but Huangfu Wenqing relied on her exquisite swordsmanship and nimble footwork to hold her own, dragging the fight out until now.
No—that shouldn’t be right. A mere Two-Star Mystic General should be no match for her strength. She ought to win.
Yan Zhen suddenly realized that Huangfu Wenqing’s mystic power felt unstable, as if she were struggling to keep up. She repeatedly failed to overpower her opponent during their clashes and was gradually falling into a disadvantage. If this continued, defeat was inevitable.
What was going on?
“You little wench, you were so cocky earlier. Now that you’re on the stage, all you do is dodge? Dare to take one of my strikes head-on?”
“Despicable!”
“Once you’re on the arena, it’s every man for himself. Who cares about ‘despicable’? The academy only forbids killing. There’s no rule against coating your weapons with non-lethal poison.”
…
Huangfu Wenqing clenched her teeth, fury boiling in her heart.
A small cut marred the back of her hand—just a graze from the blade. It was a trivial wound that her natural healing should mend by nightfall at the latest. She never imagined the bastard had smeared the edge with a toxin that disrupted the flow of mystic power.
The academy had no explicit ban on poisons or hidden weapons, but most students disdained such underhanded tactics and rarely resorted to them.
Some people, however, had no such scruples. Or rather, no shame.
Like the man before her now.
Huangfu Wenqing knew she couldn’t drag this out any longer, and her opponent clearly wanted a quick finish as well. Their blades clashed once more before the pair separated to either side. Then, they each began to gather their power, unleashing their ultimate Mystic techniques.
General Mystic Technique: Sword Fang Devour!
King Xuan Skill: Wind Piercing Thrust!
Boom! Qi erupted in all directions as shockwaves swept outward. Both fighters were hurled backward, crashing onto the arena floor. Huangfu Wenqing’s longsword flew from her grip, and she spat out a mouthful of blood. Her aura rapidly withered—she had clearly sustained internal injuries.
No referee’s call was needed. Everyone knew Huangfu Wenqing had lost.
“You’ve got some skill. Unfortunately, a loss is a loss.” The man clutched his chest as he rose to his feet, looking down at her imperiously. “Your academy card and healing pills are mine now. Hand them over—or should I take them myself? Hm? Hahaha!”
Huangfu Wenqing was deeply unwilling to accept this. She still had a trump card up her sleeve, but it was a killing move unfit for arena combat. For now, she had no choice but to concede.
She had been too careless, underestimating these “little punks.”
Just as she reached into her storage ring to retrieve the academy card and healing pills she had just obtained, a tall, upright figure landed in front of her and helped her to her feet.
“Yan Zhen? Why are you here?”
Yan Zhen produced a healing pill and stuffed it dominantly into his fiancée’s mouth, leaving her cheeks flushing red.
“Leave it to me. I’ll win it all back for you.”
With that, he turned around and said, “Fight me.”
The man wasn’t stupid. He let out a mocking chuckle. “Sorry, I just finished a match. Not in the mood right now. Hand over the bet.”
Yan Zhen directly pulled out the Level 6 Courtyard Card that Elder Yu Yan had given him and waved it flauntingly. “If you can withstand one move from me, this Level 6 Courtyard Card—and the ten thousand points inside it—are yours.”
Every gaze in the arena locked onto the card in Yan Zhen’s hand. Breaths grew rapid and ragged.
A Level 6 Courtyard Card with ten thousand points—that was wealth only the top ten experts on the General Star List could boast!
Even Bai Ao felt tempted. He was still using a mere Level 5 card, with only four or five thousand points on it at any time. He’d long coveted a Level 6 card but had no way to obtain one.
White Fang’s second-in-command froze for a moment before ecstatic joy surged in his heart. This was wealth falling from the heavens!
“Fine! We’ll do it your way!”
Yan Zhen pocketed the card and said coolly, “I wasn’t finished. If you can’t withstand it, then hand over every point and pill you’ve just won.”
“No problem! Let’s start right now!”
He looked positively afraid that Yan Zhen might back out.
Even knowing about Yan Zhen’s terrifying greatsword of flames, he was confident he could at least survive one strike.
After all, he was a Two-Star Mystic General, while Yan Zhen was merely a Four-Star Mystic Master!
With that thought, he unleashed his full mystic power, summoning a massive tornado that enveloped him. He leaped into its heart, merging with it completely.
The enormous vortex began racing across the arena, tracing a lightning-fast path as it bore down on Yan Zhen.
King Xuan Skill: Great Wind Dragon Dance!
Yan Zhen calmly raised his hand. Gold-and-silver flames erupted in a torrent, swirling and compressing like a vortex until they formed a massive sword embryo resembling a red-hot branding iron.
The moment the greatsword appeared, the temperature around the arena skyrocketed. In an instant, it felt like midsummer, forcing the spectators below to sweat profusely. They hurriedly circulated their energy to ward off the scorching heat.
Yan Zhen gripped the sword with both hands and hoisted it high. Vast quantities of fire mystic power converged on the blade, radiating terrifying fluctuations.
“Flame Extinction… Ashless Slash!”
Sword qi poured forth like a raging river, slamming into the mystic power tornado. There was no standoff—the blade sheared straight through it, igniting a colossal explosion of wind and fire.
Boom!
Shockwaves surged outward, making it impossible for bystanders to keep their eyes open. White Fang’s second-in-command was blasted from the vortex, his body charred black as he tumbled off the stage in a dead faint.
The entire arena fell into stunned silence!
One sword had shattered a Mystic General’s King Xuan Skill. What kind of freak was this Yan Zhen?
Bai Ao’s expression darkened. Before he could speak, Yan Zhen pointed his sword at him.
“Get up here, you white mutt!”
Bai Ao exploded with rage in an instant. He flashed onto the arena and launched himself straight at Yan Zhen.
“You’re the one begging for death!”
He wore massive gauntlets on his fists, each as large as a cooking pot. His punch whistled through the air with ferocious momentum.
It was a Fifth-Tier Mystic Artifact!
Yet Yan Zhen showed no fear. He slashed diagonally with his sword, smashing it squarely into Bai Ao’s fist.
The immense force sent numbness shooting up Yan Zhen’s arms and hurled Bai Ao flying backward. He stumbled upon landing, and gold-and-silver flames now burned along his Fifth-Tier gauntlet, slowly corroding the metal.
Bai Ao’s heart jolted. He hurriedly circulated his silvery-white thunder mystic power to extinguish the clinging gold-silver flames.
“An extreme flame… No wonder this kid’s mystic power isn’t that of an ordinary Mystic Master.”
But it was still far inferior to his own!
With that in mind, Bai Ao erupted with his overwhelming thunder mystic power and charged again, lunging like a ferocious mastiff on the hunt.
Yan Zhen met him head-on, swinging the gold-silver fire sword embryo to parry the onslaught of fists.
Their movements were blindingly fast, blurring into afterimages that dazzled the eye.
