A crisp breeze drifted across the arena, brushing gently against the crowd and lifting their spirits. Were it not for the deep, jagged gouges scored into the steel platform, one might easily have forgotten the ferocious battles that had raged there moments before.
Upon the arena stood two figures, facing each other from afar. One was clad in fiery crimson robes, as if he meant to burn the very sky to cinders; the other wore a crisp white ensemble, twin swords fastened at his waist, his hair bound high with a white silk ribbon, exuding an air of cold, unyielding resolve.
These two were Wensiren and Gao Han, about to clash in the next bout.
Before either moved, their auras collided violently in midair, each fierce impact stirring up small whirlwinds overhead.
It was a battle of fate. Frigid qi surged forth from Gao Han, claiming half the arena, while scorching fire qi billowed from Wensiren, dominating the other half and surging repeatedly against the cold in relentless assaults.
Yet no matter how fiercely Wensiren's flames charged, Gao Han's ice held fast, not a wisp of fire able to draw near him.
Having witnessed Gao Han's prior battles, Wensiren now understood the youth had earned his place through skill, not luck, and regarded him with grave respect.
The breathtaking sword strike Gao Han had unleashed against Duan Lang had filled Wensiren with terror; he doubted he could evade such a blow himself.
He had heard tales of Duan Lang's fearsome power from his fellow disciples, and seen the proof firsthand—the five deep, bone-piercing claw marks across a junior's chest, and three shattered ribs, a sight that sent chills down one's spine.
Yet this terrifying warrior had been crippled by Gao Han, his soul damaged to the point of mental ruin.
Gao Han's strength forced Wensiren to take him seriously, a man he had once dismissed as worthless. He recalled their first confrontation, the stance Gao Han had taken then identical to the preparatory motion before that fatal sword strike. A cold dread washed over him—had You Canghai not intervened that day, he would surely have suffered Duan Lang's fate.
For all Gao Han's power, however, Wensiren remained confident of victory. The reason was simple: the arena itself. Forged entirely of steel, it was the perfect battlefield for a fire-wielding warrior like him.
Opinion among the spectators was sharply divided.
"Think Gao Han can keep his streak going and take down Wensiren?"
"Impossible. Wensiren is a fourth-layer True Essence expert—Gao Han is two entire realms beneath him!"
"Besides, Wensiren is known as the Blazing Palm across the martial world. How could he lose to some unknown brat?"
"I disagree. In every fight so far, Gao Han has faced foes far stronger than himself and still emerged victorious!"
"The Blazing Palm is different! He's at the fourth layer!" one man snapped in frustration.
A supporter of Gao Han shot back, "Nian Hua, Gao Han's senior brother, is also fourth-layer True Essence—and he lost to Hao Han, a third-layer warrior!"
Nian Hua, listening from the stands, could only smile bitterly. He wished they would stop bringing him into the argument. Tuning out the chatter, he fixed his gaze on the two combatants, his heart heavy with worry yet tinged with anticipation.
Gao Han had yet to reveal his full strength, and Nian Hua burned to see the true extent of his power, to find where his limits lay.
On the arena, the two warriors ignored the trivial debates of the crowd, retracting their auras in unison.
"Gao Han, I am astonished you have come this far. But your winning streak ends here," Wensiren declared with unshakable confidence.
Gao Han smiled faintly. "We shall see."
Wensiren snorted coldly, his voice darkening. "Bold words. We shall see if you remain so defiant in defeat."
"Starfire Blazing the Plains!"
Wensiren slammed his palms toward Gao Han, sending sheets of raging fire streaming forth like swarms of crimson butterflies bursting from a cage, dancing through the air toward his opponent.
"Thousand Searches!"
Gao Han's figure weaved nimbly through the gaps in the flames, as if cutting through layers of space to emerge beyond the firestorm, standing directly before Wensiren.
"Heh! How naive!" Wensiren grinned instead of panicking. The flames behind Gao Han converged into a mountain-sized inferno, crashing down upon him at blistering speed.
The searing heat seemed to incinerate the very air, warping the space around the blaze with shimmering heat haze.
"Surging Tides!"
Sensing the danger at his back, Gao Han spun and struck upward with a palm, forming massive, rolling waves of ice that crashed repeatedly against the fire.
HISS-HISS-HISS!
The ice melted rapidly under the flames, the resulting water dousing the inferno with a shrill, screeching sound.
Though Gao Han blocked the attack, he had acted in haste, and his body was sent hurtling backward—straight toward Wensiren's position.
Gao Han twisted mid-air and slammed a palm toward Wensiren, unleashing Mountain Stream, a technique renowned for its unrelenting follow-through power.
Wensiren's smile froze on his face. He had not expected Gao Han to react so swiftly, let alone strike while airborne. He hurriedly raised his palm to meet the blow.
Ember Shatter Palm!
Wensiren's right hand blazed crimson, encased in a layer of roaring fire, its lines distinct as if forged from shattered flame itself.
CLANG!
Frigid cold radiated from Gao Han's palm, while scorching fire engulfed Wensiren's. The collision shattered the surrounding air, sending invisible shockwaves rippling outward.
Steam billowed wildly where their palms met. Gao Han's icy qi seeped into Wensiren's body, only to be swiftly surrounded and incinerated by his fire-attuned true essence—too weak in isolation to withstand the heat.
Yet the attack was not without effect. The invading frost stalled the flow of qi fueling Wensiren's Ember Shatter Palm at his wrist, leaving the technique starved of power. The flames on his palm flickered and shrank, on the verge of extinguishing.
Sensing trouble, Wensiren crouched low and threw a vicious left punch at Gao Han's abdomen.
Gao Han reacted instantly, lifting his left leg and blocking the punch with his knee.
CLANG!
Both warriors recoiled, each step carving deep indentations into the steel arena.
Blazing Fire Palm!
Wensiren's palms turned a deep, molten red, no flames visible on their surface, but radiating intense heat and wisping black smoke, as if forged from magma itself.
Pushing off the ground, he leaped high into the air, his palms whirling into a storm of magma-like fire hands that coalesced into a fire cloud fifty feet across, bearing down upon Gao Han.
"This is Wensiren's signature technique—the Blazing Fire Palm! Legend has it each strike burns at hundreds of degrees, capable of setting a man ablaze upon contact!"
"Indeed! This is how he earned the title Blazing Palm. Gao Han is doomed!"
Gao Han narrowed his eyes, a flicker of surprise crossing his face. He mused inwardly: A famed warrior lives up to his reputation. The Blazing Palm is truly formidable—his power must be at the peak of the fourth-layer True Essence. Even Nian Hua, with twice his current strength, would stand no chance against him.
Surprise aside, Gao Han was no man to wait passively for defeat. For all its apparent power, this technique did not intimidate him.
Raising a single palm, Gao Han channeled the overwhelming momentum of heaven and earth into his hand. The entire arena seemed to freeze over, the air trapped and immobilized by the immense pressure.
Tiny ice crystals formed across the steel platform, glinting with a sharp, cold light that stung the eyes of onlookers.
This was Gao Han's trump card—Ice Momentum. If his Sword Momentum stood at a mere tenth of its full power, his Ice Momentum had reached two-tenths.
One should not underestimate this seemingly small gap; its power was over four times that of his Sword Momentum.
In the blink of an eye, Wensiren's fire cloud loomed a mere two feet from Gao Han, the air before him blazing so hot that a piece of wood would turn to charcoal in an instant.
Yet the space around Gao Han was bitterly cold, plummeting to a staggering minus thirty degrees Celsius, and dropping still.
Since comprehending Ice Momentum, Gao Han had discovered his body's frost qi reached an incredible minus fifty degrees. He was now holding back, unleashing only one and two-tenths of his Ice Momentum. Unleashing it in full would freeze the entire arena to below minus fifty degrees without a doubt.
But Gao Han had no intention of revealing all his cards. His remaining trump cards included his full two-tenths Ice Momentum, Sword-Shattering Strike, Hidden Sword Technique, and his newly awakened Ice Sword Momentum.
He held plenty of secrets, yet he could not be sure whether Duan Qianchou and Jian Qingtian had revealed their full strength, nor what hidden techniques they possessed.
The more trump cards one kept concealed, the higher one's chances of victory. A well-known killing move was no killing move at all—one's secrets lost their power once exposed.
Mountain-Soaring Grandeur!
All the frost on the arena surged into Gao Han's palm, and he struck upward with all his might.
A colossal ice hand, forty feet wide, materialized above him, perfectly formed with lifelike lines and contours, identical to a human hand.
The icy giant hand spread its fingers and clamped down upon the fire cloud. Though smaller in size, its imposing aura dwarfed the flames.
BOOM!
The ice hand seized the fire cloud, and Gao Han curled his fingers inward. The giant hand mirrored the motion, crushing the fire in its grip. The flames twisted and writhed, struggling in vain, before being frozen solid and shattered into icy shards.
The entire crowd stared in stunned silence, scarcely daring to blink for fear of missing the extraordinary sight.
It was uncanny—the ice hand moved with uncanny life, toying with the fire as if it were a plaything. Such mastery of essence manifestation bordered on the divine.
What the spectators did not know was that Gao Han's soul power elevated his essence manipulation to the level of a Spirit Realm expert.
"Is that momentum? I have never seen anything like it!"
"Could it be palm momentum? It does not resemble any art I know!"
Only Gao Jianfeng and his companions in the stands recognized the power for what it was—Gao Han's Ice Momentum. They had not fathomed its sheer might, and the display left them astounded.
The ice hand continued its descent toward Wensiren, who fled in terror, scrambling across the arena floor.
Though he knew the tournament rules forbade killing, he dared not risk it. He had no desire to end up like his own fire cloud, crushed to pieces.
Scorching Heaven and Boiling Seas!
Having reached the edge of the arena, Wensiren refused to concede. He slammed his palm into the steel platform and laughed maniacally: "Hahaha! This is my ultimate technique, the third-most powerful of the Blazing Palm arts, which I mastered only months ago! I will make you regret this! Steel conducts heat faster than any other material—you cannot stay airborne forever without the Scroll of Heavenly Flight. I will roast you to a crisp!"
His true essence poured endlessly into the steel arena, turning the platform a blazing red from his position, the heat spreading rapidly to claim a third of the stage.
This was Wensiren's most confident ploy. Gao Han was no Spirit Realm expert, unable to hover indefinitely in the air; he would have to land eventually, sealing his defeat.
Gao Han shook his head inwardly. I had hoped not to reveal this trump card, but Wensiren lives up to his name—truly insufferable.
"Wensiren, since you will not yield, I will defeat you utterly and break your resolve," Gao Han declared, pressing his own right palm to the ground, just as Wensiren had done.
He channeled the momentum of heaven and earth into his hand, far more powerfully than before—soul power combined with one and a half-tenths of his Ice Momentum.
From where Gao Han stood, a layer of ice spread across the arena, sprouting three-foot-long ice spikes that extended outward in a relentless tide.
HISS-HISS-HISS-HISS!
The ice clashed with the searing steel, emitting a piercing screech. Gao Han's frost prevailed, pushing the heat back inch by inch.
"ARRGH!"
A scream of agony rang out as the ice reached Wensiren's hand, a spike piercing straight through his right palm.
With his goal achieved, Gao Han curled his fingers, and all the ice spikes disintegrated into fine powder, drifting through the air to form a beautiful, glistening mist in the sunlight.
CRACK-CRACK-CRACK!
Wensiren's suffering was far from over. The combined assault of Gao Han's soul power and Ice Momentum was not to be underestimated.
Icy qi invaded the meridians in Wensiren's arm, locked in a brutal battle with his native true essence. The violent collision of the two energies sent sharp, cracking sounds echoing through his limb.
Though Gao Han's frost qi was eventually vaporized, Wensiren's arm meridians were left in tatters. He would be unable to use his right hand for months, lest it be permanently crippled.