Following Gao Han's injury at Duan Muhua's hands, You Canghai conferred with the other elders to postpone the match, allowing Gao Han two hours to recuperate at the sidelines before the battle resumed.
The decision required the consent of the relevant party—Jian Qingtian.
Filled with unshakable confidence in his own prowess, Jian Qingtian believed he could defeat Gao Han even at the latter's peak. To triumph over Gao Han in his full strength would be the only way to earn genuine respect. Without hesitation, he agreed.
Duan Muhua harbored private objections, yet he held his tongue once the contestant himself had raised no protest. Strangely, the Duan clan did not depart.
With Duan Qianchou confirmed as third place, they ought to have had no reason to remain. Were they here to claim the third-place reward? Such a prize would scarcely matter to a faction of the Duan clan's stature, leaving all onlookers deeply perplexed.
By the time two hours had passed, dusk had fallen. Ordinarily, the tournament would have been suspended until the following day. But at the joint insistence of Jian Qingtian and Gao Han, who demanded a victor be decided that very night, the duel proceeded.
Torches blazed along the arena's perimeter, casting brilliant light that turned the grounds as bright as midday. Gao Han and Jian Qingtian stepped onto the stage and faced one another.
"Gao Han, I sensed long ago that you were no ordinary talent, yet I never imagined you would prove this formidable—to defeat Duan Qianchou is no small feat," Jian Qingtian remarked, advancing toward Gao Han step by step.
"You defeated him as well. I have longed for this battle since the very first round of the tournament," Gao Han replied, moving toward Jian Qingtian in turn.
"Duan Qianchou? For all his strength, he is nothing but an arrogant, overbearing fool who regards no one as his equal. He is no true rival. I suspect you think the same."
Jian Qingtian halted abruptly, his gaze piercing as he fixed it on Gao Han. "Among all the contestants here, you alone have piqued my interest."
Gao Han tilted his head slightly. "Interesting? I had not expected such an assessment from you. Let us settle who shall prevail with our blades and palms."
"I agree. Let us dispense with idle testing. Unleash your full strength at once, or you shall not stand against me for long," Jian Qingtian said with a faint smile.
The spectators below were stunned by their exchange. The two youths had referred to the immensely powerful Duan Qianchou as a fool—hardly a fitting label, for even ordinary fourth-layer True Essence cultivators could scarce stand against him.
The crowd reached but one conclusion: Duan Qianchou was not weak; these two were simply monstrously talented, Gao Han most of all. To reach this stage at the first layer of True Essence was nothing short of legendary.
Duan Muhua was driven into a fury. "You insolent brats! You dare insult my grandson!" To hear two youths, one a mere ant he had never deemed worthy of notice, dismiss his grandson as worthless filled him with unbridled rage.
Torchlight painted the faces of the two combatants in a deep crimson glow.
They circled one another clockwise around the center of the arena, each radiating an aura of overwhelming power.
Jian Qingtian's sword intent soared to the heavens, its sharp, piercing momentum surging toward Gao Han. In response, Gao Han unleashed a boundless frost aura that warded off Jian Qingtian's sharp energy with impenetrable defense.
Their auras clashed violently time and again, neither gaining the upper hand. Jian Qingtian's aura was keen enough to slice the entire arena in two, while Gao Han's chilling frost threatened to freeze the very air solid.
Gao Han struck first, shaping his fingers into a palm. True essence surged through his hand, turning it a translucent white that glowed like polished jade in the torchlight.
"Mountain-Soaring Grandeur!"
A colossal ice palm nearly forty feet across materialized and crashed toward Jian Qingtian. Gao Han did not weave Ice Momentum into this strike, so the giant hand lacked the ability to move freely.
Though they had agreed to forgo testing, Gao Han had never fought Jian Qingtian and knew not the full extent of his power; a probing strike was only prudent.
The frost-wreathed giant hand descended upon Jian Qingtian with crushing force.
"Fight me seriously!" Jian Qingtian roared at the incoming palm, his longsword already in his hand.
Shing!
He reached for the hilt, grasped the blade, drew the sword, and slashed—all in one fluid motion. A thirty-foot-long sword qi sliced through the air, hurtling straight toward the giant palm.
CLANG!
The giant hand held for barely a second before being split clean in two by the sword qi, which continued soaring into the sky and vanishing into the night.
"Gao Han, hold nothing back. My next strike will show no mercy," Jian Qingtian declared, standing rigid as an unsheathed sword.
Gao Han's heart stirred with astonishment. Within Jian Qingtian's sword qi, he had sensed Sword Momentum—a formidable one-and-a-half-tenth unaligned Sword Momentum. Though unaligned, its power was not to be underestimated.
He had yet to gauge the full extent of Jian Qingtian's sword qi, but he smiled calmly at the warning. "Spare me no mercy. I shall meet your full strength head-on."
"Arrogance! Flash Step!" Jian Qingtian's eyes narrowed, and his figure vanished in an instant.
What? Gao Han's eyes widened in shock. The man possessed a movement art—and a formidable one at that.
Not daring to falter, Gao Han leaped high into the air, scanning the ground below intently to locate Jian Qingtian's position.
Murmurs rippled through the stands.
"Jian Qingtian wields such a powerful movement art? Why did he not use it in earlier matches?"
"Surely his prior opponents were not worthy of it."
"Evidently, Jian Qingtian now regards Gao Han as a true threat."
"It would seem so. Gao Han's movement art is equally impressive. Who can say which of them is swifter?"
Gao Han too wondered how his movement art compared to Jian Qingtian's. Previous combatants had wielded remarkable skills—Lu Zhengteng's Swallow Return, Nian Hua's Scroll of Heavenly Flight—but none had impressed him deeply.
This time was different. Jian Qingtian's speed was so great that Gao Han could not track him with his naked eyes. Without locating his foe, how could he fight?
Of course, Gao Han had yet to channel soul power into his eyes to activate the Soul Vision, which would have eliminated this blind spot. But he chose not to, wishing to test his movement art against Jian Qingtian's.
Suddenly, he spotted a flicker of movement below. Jian Qingtian had halted upon realizing Gao Han was no longer on the ground, raising his sword to aim upward.
In that split second, Gao Han seized the opportunity, activating Phantom Stride. He vanished from the sky and reappeared behind Jian Qingtian, striking out with a palm.
CLANG!
Sensing the palm wind at his back, Jian Qingtian spun around and blocked the strike with his sword.
Both combatants staggered backward several steps, each footprint carving deeply into the steel arena. They then activated their movement arts once more, darting toward one another in a blur.
Their movement techniques were pushed to their absolute limits, creating an uncanny sight on the stage. No clear figures could be seen—only two blurry streaks flashing across the arena, vanishing as quickly as they appeared. Each flicker left crisp footprints, while residual sword qi and frost-frozen air lingered in their wake.
"Their movement arts are peerless. I would be defeated before I even laid eyes on my opponent," one spectator muttered.
"Only fifth-layer True Essence cultivators could keep up with such speed," a young first-layer True Essence warrior said in awe. "As fellow first-layer cultivators, the gap between Gao Han and me is immeasurable. He could defeat me with a single palm without even trying."
CLANG!
The two figures reappeared at the center of the arena, palm clashing violently with sword. A powerful shockwave erupted from the point of contact, rippling outward and billowing their robes and hair backward.
They leaped apart, standing twenty feet apart and regarding one another with solemn resolve.
"Gao Han, you are a worthy foe. I shall now fight with my full strength. Be on your guard."
"That is precisely what I intended to say. Our movement arts are evenly matched; let us not waste energy on them."
"Agreed."
"Formless Sword Peak!"
Jian Qingtian gripped his longsword tightly and stabbed toward Gao Han, the blade's radiance subdued—a stark contrast to the blazing glow of his earlier strikes.
Gao Han dared not underestimate this deceptively plain technique. He wove a thick layer of ice around his palm, a foot deep, crystalline and unyielding.
"Surging Tides!"
He channeled one-tenth Ice Momentum into his palm, unleashing a towering wave of frost that crashed toward Jian Qingtian.
SHING!
The unassuming sword strike sliced straight through the ice wave infused with Ice Momentum, splitting it clean in two. No longer restrained, the sword's power erupted forth, its silvery radiance so blinding that Gao Han was forced to squint.
Gao Han shuddered inwardly. He had been right not to dismiss the technique—it had concentrated all its power within, making its seemingly modest form hide incomparable strength.
Yet after shattering the ice wave, the sword's power had diminished, and it could no longer remain contained.
Gao Han's ice-encased palm blocked the sword qi and clamped down on the blade, but the sharp energy sliced through the ice into countless shards.
Gao Han vanished two zhang away, yet two thin gashes marked his palm—cut by Jian Qingtian's sword qi.
"Now I shall have to use my true ability."
A sharp, piercing momentum erupted from Gao Han, slicing the air above in two and freezing the separated halves solid.
Jian Qingtian stared in astonishment. "That is Sword Momentum—and elemental Sword Momentum at that. You continue to astound me."
He wielded unaligned Sword Momentum. Elemental Sword Momentum was widely known to be far more powerful, roughly one to two times stronger than its unaligned counterpart.
SHING!
A fearsome Sword Momentum burst forth from Jian Qingtian, splitting the already divided air into four segments. Its power matched Gao Han's evenly.
The two streams of Sword Momentum tangled and clashed in the air, rending the void into fragments. Gao Han's ice-aligned Sword Momentum froze chunks of air, which the sharp energies then shattered into nothingness, leaving patches of vacuum in their wake.
Standing ten feet apart, they pressed their momentum against one another. Gao Han's surprise grew—Jian Qingtian's Sword Momentum now reached two-tenths of its full power, and it showed no sign of stopping there.