The fervor of the Young Generation Tournament had swept every corner of the imperial capital. All were eager to learn who would claim the title of the Spirit Kingdom's foremost young expert, and to witness the spectacle for themselves. Many had booked private chambers in taverns overlooking the arena, foregoing food and rest to watch the battles unfold.
Gao Han stood at the edge of the platform, watching as combatants clashed ceaselessly, figures tumbling from the stage like falling rain. He stretched his limbs, ready to test his skills, yet before he could strike, others had already set their sights on him.
A fist swelled larger as it hurtled toward his face. He had sought no trouble, yet trouble had come for him. It was plain to see why: he was only at the first layer of True Essence, and wore no sect uniform. To the others, he was a lone wanderer with no backing—an easy target.
Gao Han would not let the provocation stand. He shot out a hand, fingers splayed, and seized the incoming fist. "Who are you?"
The man snorted haughtily. "You dare ask for my name, commoner? Do you hope to curry favor with me? First, look to your own strength."
He tensed his body, unleashing the full might of a peak second-layer True Essence cultivator. Gao Han's grip, which had used only thirty percent of his power, was instantly broken.
"Very well. Strength shall decide all," Gao Han replied with a faint smile. He raised his right palm and struck forward, channeling fifty percent of his power—twenty percent more than before. True Essence erupted from his palm, forming a translucent hand wreathed in wispy frost.
The air along its path turned frigid, sending a bitter gust sweeping through the crowd. Nearby fighters shivered violently, their attention torn from their own duels to fix on this clash.
Gao Han had employed no formal technique, yet this single strike carried the full force of a second-layer True Essence expert. He merely wished to gauge the true power of a peak second-layer cultivator—this man's aura was steady and unforced, forged through genuine cultivation rather than medicinal shortcuts. He wanted to see how much strength he would need to defeat such an opponent.
The man's eyes widened at the sight of condensed palm-wreathed essence, its surface shimmering with cold mist. He poured all his power into his fist and launched a counterstrike, sending an essence-fist hurtling toward Gao Han's palm.
BOOM!
The two forces collided, each eating away at the other. But anyone observing closely would have noticed that Gao Han's frosty palm was steadily freezing the opponent's essence-fist, turning its energy into wisps of cold that dissipated into the air.
No one else saw this, but Gao Han did, and a spark of curiosity stirred within him. Back in the Qi Condensation realm, clashing palms had allowed him to freeze an opponent's internal essence and convert it into frost. Yet after breaking through to True Essence, his projected essence had lost this ability—until his soul had been tempered by ice. It seemed the evolution of his power now hinged on his soul as well.
In the blink of an eye, Gao Han's essence-palm shattered the incoming fist entirely and surged onward toward the man.
Stunned that his defense had failed, the man threw up both hands in a desperate block.
SHHHH!
He was sent flying fifteen meters, his feet carving two long furrows into the stone. Several bystanders were knocked off the platform by his momentum. Among them was a black-robed youth, who reacted swiftly by drawing his sheathed sword and thrusting it forward. A wide blue sword qi erupted, slicing through anyone in its path.
Among the crowd were other prodigies, who unleashed their strongest moves to intercept the devastating qi, yet to little avail—they too were sent tumbling from the stage.
The sword qi sent more than a dozen fighters flying before piercing the man's left arm, severing it cleanly. The force of the strike halted his backward momentum entirely.
"AAAAGH!"
The man stared at Gao Han and the black-robed youth with hatred in his eyes, screaming in agony.
Having sliced off his arm, the sword qi continued toward Gao Han. He had seen the carnage it had wrought—even peak second-layer experts had fallen before it. He dared not underestimate it.
"Earth-Shaking Might!"
Gao Han thrust out his right palm, unleashing a torrent of true essence. The palm force clashed repeatedly with the sword qi, each wearing the other down. Gao Han's vibrating essence sought to shatter the sharp qi, while his frost energy turned the sword's power into cold mist.
The collision spawned a howling hurricane, its winds razor-sharp and bitterly cold. Those caught in its path were lifted off their feet and thrown from the arena, curling into trembling balls on the ground.
The sword qi's strength lay in its unrivaled sharpness; Gao Han's palm force in its ceaseless vibration. In the end, the two forces annihilated each other completely.
The black-robed youth fixed Gao Han with a deep, piercing gaze, his eyes sharp as a blade. Having cultivated his soul, Gao Han was utterly unshaken by such a look.
A worthy foe, he thought, his fighting spirit flaring. He was about to engage the youth when the maimed man spoke up.
After screaming for several moments, he gasped out, "You will die! Do you know who I am?!"
Gao Han scoffed inwardly. When defeated, hide behind one's clan—was this the caliber of the so-called outstanding youth of the age? He smiled mockingly. "Did you not say strength, not clan, would decide this?"
The man's face turned crimson with rage, yet he could find no retort, only glaring at Gao Han with bitter hatred.
"Trash," the black-robed youth spat coldly, dismissing him entirely.
The injured man was beside himself with fury, his teeth grinding so loudly they could be heard. He roared at the youth's back, "I am a clansman of the Gu clan! You are dead men!"
"A Gu clansman?" Gao Han frowned in confusion. Why had the man not attacked him immediately if he knew who he was?
"Afraid now, are you?" The man held his bleeding arm aloft, sneering at Gao Han and the black-robed youth. "Whoever you are, you will regret this! I will see your clan's men slaughtered and your women enslaved for all eternity!"
"What. Did. You. Say?"
The black-robed youth spoke each word with deliberate slowness, a towering aura of sword intent erupting from his body, soaring ten meters into the air, slicing at the very atmosphere.
The Gu clansman trembled in terror, unable to speak. Before he could, a voice boomed from the spectator stands.
"Fool! You lost honorably, yet you dare threaten others! Brother You, put an end to this humiliation for my Gu clan at once." Gu Manxing cast a meaningful glance at the black-robed youth. "My clan has failed to teach this whelp properly. He is a distant branch member newly recalled to the capital, ignorant of etiquette. I beg the young hero's forgiveness."
The black-robed youth gave a shallow bow, his voice icy. "It is of no consequence."
You Canghai, the Iron-Armed Wanderer, then declared, "The first round is concluded!"
Only then did the crowd realize that the clashes between Gao Han and the black-robed youth had eliminated nearly fifty contestants. The required three hundred eliminations had been met—and then some.
Those remaining on the platform were mostly second-layer True Essence cultivators. Zheng Kong had been knocked off early by Hu Kai, yet Situ Jian had somehow clung on, thanks to a nimble sword art and sheer luck—the spectacle of Gao Han's battle had distracted most fighters.
Zheng Kong's cultivation was still unstable after his recent breakthrough, making him an easy target for Hu Kai, who himself was soon eliminated.
Surprisingly, Hua Meiniang had also survived, a feat that impressed Gao Han. Whatever tricks she had used, staying on the stage demanded real skill.
From below the arena, eliminated fighters shouted angrily at You Canghai. "This is unfair! We would not have fallen if not for those two!"
"Look—there's even a first-layer cultivator up there! I am peak second-layer! Let me fight him!" One man pointed furiously at Situ Jian.
Once all contestants had descended, You Canghai landed heavily upon the platform and roared, "Enough!"
The sound wave swept outward, sending many stumbling to the ground. He stared at the defeated crowd with a stony expression. "I stated the rules clearly at the start. This tournament tests not only strength but fortune—and strength itself is a form of fortune. Continue your clamor, and I will expel you from the arena entirely. I believe the honored elders above will concur."
The six witnesses nodded in unison. The complaining crowd fell silent at once. You Canghai ordered his ninth-layer True Essence guards to move the eliminated contestants far back, then summoned those who had qualified.
He addressed the two hundred and eighty-one survivors. "We now begin the second stage."
He produced one hundred tokens forged from an unknown material. "These tokens are infused with my essence, impervious to damage even by seventh-layer True Essence experts, and thus impossible to counterfeit. I will throw them into the air. Those who seize one may advance. Those who do not may steal tokens from others. After fifteen minutes, anyone without a token shall be eliminated."
"The rules remain: one-on-one duels only. No gang fights, no ganging up on the weak. Prepare… begin!"
With that, You Canghai hurled the tokens skyward. Gao Han had fixed his gaze on one from the start, and he launched himself toward it like a diving eagle, unleashing his full physical speed.
Several others moved just as swiftly: Duan Qianchou, the black-robed youth, and Nian Hua of the Misty Sect, a fourth-layer True Essence expert. In total, over a dozen prodigies surged ahead, their strength or movement arts placing them above the rest.
By fortune, no one else had targeted the token Gao Han had chosen. With a hundred tokens in play, even if others had picked the same, there were plenty to go around.
All the front-runners claimed a token and landed smoothly. Some contestants had not bothered to leap, instead waiting below with weapons drawn, ready to ambush those who descended.
Gao Han knew their ploy well. Though they recognized his strength, they dismissed him as a mere first-layer cultivator, assuming his earlier victory had been due to the Gu clansman's carelessness.
A few wiser fighters targeted slower contestants, not the leading prodigies.
The moment Gao Han touched the ground, several men charged him. He unleashed "Earth-Shaking Might" and sent them flying backward faster than they had come.
One man stood apart. Clad in purple robes with a yellow jade belt and a purple jade crown, he held a white longsword—no ordinary weapon, at the very least a low-grade spiritual sword, perhaps even peak low-grade.
"Friend, I am Lu Zhengteng, son of Prince Yingqi, the fifth royal prince of the imperial clan."
"An imperial prince. What do you want?" Gao Han's expression remained cold and unchanged.
"Your skill is extraordinary. Securing another token would pose no difficulty for you. Yield this one to the imperial clan, and you shall be richly rewarded. Otherwise…"
The threat was thinly veiled. Gao Han could tell this was a tactic the prince had used many times before. It might work on others, but not on him.
"I am afraid I cannot. This token is of use to me," Gao Han replied flatly.
"How dare you! As a royal prince, I command you to hand it over, kneel, and lick my boots. Defy me, and I will have your entire clan executed!"
Lu Zhengteng's face darkened with rage, his arrogance palpable.
Gao Han smiled coldly. "Three strikes. Withstand three of my palms without falling, and the token is yours. Otherwise, you will not get it."
Lu Zhengteng's expression shifted at once. He quickly calculated: Gao Han was only first-layer True Essence, while he was third-layer. True, Gao Han had neutralized that fearsome sword qi earlier, but it had been weakened by passing through so many fighters. In his eyes, Gao Han had merely gotten lucky.
The black-robed youth was third-layer, and so was he. Even if he was not the youth's equal, he was far above a first-layer cultivator like Gao Han.
He nodded decisively. "Very well. If you wish for guidance from a royal, I shall graciously oblige. The imperial family always aids its people—"
Gao Han, disgusted by Lu Zhengteng's grandstanding, had had enough. He found the imperial clan's hypocrisy repulsive—always elevating themselves while belittling others.
"Silence! First strike!"
He unleashed "Earth-Shaking Might" at eighty percent power. A massive essence-palm hurtled toward Lu Zhengteng.
SHING!
Lu Zhengteng drew his sword and roared, "Swallow Slash!"
three streaks of sword qi erupted from the blade, two behind one, shaped like a swallow in flight, speeding toward Gao Han.
"That's a top-tier Mortal-Rank art!"
"The Swallow Sword Art—isn't that the signature technique of the Goose Gate Sect, a nine-star power?"
"Yes! But wasn't Goose Gate wiped out by bandits ten years ago? No one survived!"
"There must be more to the story! Its leader, Yan Xing, was fifth-layer True Essence, with a movement art so swift even eighth-layer experts could not catch him. How could he have perished?"
The three sword qi twisted mid-flight, converging on Gao Han from three separate angles. Each strike carried the full force of a peak second-layer True Essence expert.
For all its power, Gao Han's palm strike was a single attack, unable to shatter three separate streams of qi at once. To do so would require three separate palms—a delay that would hand Lu Zhengteng the victory. He had not expected the prince to wield such a cunning technique.