"Ha!"
With a thunderous shout, Nian Hua slashed his sword toward the shadowy figure before him. The blade struck true, yet not a single drop of blood was spilled.
This was the duel between Nian Hua and Hao Han. Nian Hua could only manage a bitter smile—Gao Han had been proven right. Hao Han was indeed a formidable rival.
As soon as the match began, Nian Hua soared into the sky like a hunting eagle, his sword pointed downward as he dove straight toward Hao Han.
"Ha! Come then!" Hao Han let out a hearty laugh. Pushing off the ground with his legs, he shot upward like a sharp arrow, meeting the descending sword with nothing but his bare fist.
CLANG!
A resounding clang erupted in midair, sending violent gusts of wind swirling outward in all directions.
Waves of true essence unfurled from Nian Hua, coiling around Hao Han like iron chains and dragging him plummeting toward the ground.
BOOM!
Hao Han landed in a crouch, leaving a shallow indentation upon the steel arena.
Veins bulged prominently across his arms. With a mighty roar, he shattered Nian Hua's restrictive essence to pieces.
Having broken free of the binds, Hao Han drew his iron flail and slammed it viciously toward Nian Hua, who still hovered in midair.
Nian Hua's figure twisted abruptly to the side, moving with uncanny agility as if he trod upon solid ground even in the sky.
"This is the Scroll of Heavenly Flight, a top-tier Mortal-Rank movement art! It is said that to master it, one must practice aerial maneuvers endlessly, falling to the ground countless times until one learns to shift direction freely and hold the upper hand in midair combat."
A knowledgeable onlooker exclaimed in astonishment. Nian Hua's mastery of the art allowed him to alter his position swiftly and silently in the air, a sign that he had perfected the technique.
"With this, Hao Han will struggle to land a single blow on him!"
"Truly, sect disciples are privileged with the finest arts!
"Nian Hua can circle around behind Hao Han without a sound and strike. Hao Han is likely to lose this bout!"
Gao Han thought otherwise. For all its wonder, the Scroll of Heavenly Flight relied on linear movements. Every directional shift forced Nian Hua to reveal his form, and he would have to materialize many times to circle behind Hao Han—a critical flaw.
To most, this was unnoticeable. But to a warrior as perceptive as Gao Han, every flicker of form was an opening.
Moreover, the crowd had overlooked the most crucial detail: Hao Han was a body-refining expert. Their greatest strength lay not in overwhelming offensive power, but in their monstrous, almost inhuman defense.
Sure enough, as Nian Hua evaded the strike, Hao Han shifted his iron flail in an instant, sweeping it horizontally through the air.
A streak of crimson light sliced across the sky toward Nian Hua.
WHOOSH-WHOOSH-WHOOSH!
Nian Hua vanished and reappeared across the sky, darting from one spot to the next. Seizing a moment when Hao Han was slow to react, he stabbed downward with a sword strike as ethereal and unpredictable as drifting clouds.
CLINK!
The sword pierced Hao Han's flesh, but instead of a spray of blood, there came only the cold ring of metal striking metal.
The crowd gaped in disbelief. Nian Hua's blade dug three centimeters into Hao Han's muscular chest, yet not a single drop of blood flowed.
"This is the Golden Body Art, the signature technique of Feng Buping, the Mighty Hero of the martial world!"
"Could Hao Han be Feng Buping's disciple?"
"No wonder he is so formidable. Legend has it that Feng Buping is a renowned Spirit Fusion expert of the older generation, more powerful than even the Four Young Masters of the Southern Cang Region."
Hao Han grinned savagely and clamped his left hand tightly around the sword blade. Nian Hua strained with all his might to pull it free, yet Hao Han's palm remained unmarked, and his grip was so powerful that the sword would not budge.
Hao Han whipped the chain of his iron flail in looping circles, binding Nian Hua tightly.
Nian Hua activated the Scroll of Heavenly Flight, darting through the air like lightning before finally landing upon the ground.
"I concede." Though he still had strength to fight, he knew the outcome was inevitable. This was no battle to the death, so there was no point in prolonging the inevitable.
Hao Han laughed heartily. "You are strong indeed. I respect you for surrendering honorably when you knew you could not win. I would call you friend." He extended his right hand. "Let me introduce myself properly: Hao Han, a wandering warrior of the martial realm."
"Haha, the honor is mine. I am Nian Hua, disciple of the Misty Peak of the Misty Sect." Nian Hua clasped his hand, then smiled sheepishly. "Perhaps I ought to take back my earlier words."
He feared he had offended Hao Han.
"It matters not. I am used to it." Hao Han waved it off with a laugh, then lowered his voice. "I have always dreamed of wandering freely across the Tianwu Continent. Five years ago, I met my master, Feng Buping."
Nian Hua stared in shock. "You truly are the disciple of the Mighty Hero Feng Buping! No wonder your strength and defense are peerless."
Though Nian Hua had been defeated, the two parted as fast friends.
Only one match remained: Gao Han versus Duan Lang.
As Gao Han stepped onto the arena, he passed Nian Hua, who halted him and spoke with grave sincerity. "I am sorry I could not secure victory. You must win. The honor of the Misty Sect rests upon you."
Gao Han smiled coldly. "I fight only for myself. If I battle to my heart's content, what does defeat matter?"
Nian Hua smiled bitterly, chiding himself for being foolish enough to place his hopes in a first-layer True Essence cultivator. For all his extraordinariness, how could Gao Han stand against prodigies like Jian Qingtian, who were far beyond ordinary third-layer experts?
Shaking his head, he retreated to the stands.
"Hahaha! How ridiculous! How did the Misty Sect ever become the second great power of the Spirit Kingdom if it cannot even reach the top six?" Xiang Wentian mocked Li Changtian without restraint from the high platform.
"The Misty Sect is in decline. You ought to surrender your title as the second power," Jian Wuxiang said, his eyes turning as sharp and piercing as a unsheathed sword.
Duan Muhua threw back his head and laughed. "Behold! A mere ant of the first True Essence layer is your last hope! I urge you to have him forfeit. Duan Lang shows no mercy in battle."
Li Changtian's face darkened with rage. He longed to tell Gao Han to withdraw, but he knew the youth would never obey—he would only scorn the suggestion.
He could only endure the taunts. Though the Misty Sect was an eight-star power on par with the others, its status as the second great power of the Spirit Kingdom had long bred resentment among its rivals.
Before Duan Lang stepped onto the arena, Duan Qianchou smiled and asked, "Lang, what are your chances of victory?"
Duan Lang's eyes glinted with murderous ferocity, his voice icy as frost. "I know not. But young master… I may well lose."
He rarely spoke more than a few words, making this his longest utterance yet. Duan Qianchou raised an eyebrow, then laughed loudly. "Lang, are you jesting? I say you will win without a scratch."