Though Jian Qingtian's sword momentum now reached two-tenths of its full power, it still only matched Gao Han's evenly, for Gao Han wielded elemental sword momentum.
Jian Qingtian's sword energy was repeatedly frozen and torn apart by Gao Han's frigid aura, forcing him steadily onto the back foot. Yet two-tenths momentum was overwhelmingly powerful, allowing Gao Han only a slight upper hand, not an overwhelming advantage.
CLANG!
The two warriors surged toward each other in a burst of speed, raising their swords to slash at one another.
Cyan-blue and silvery sword radiance intertwined ceaselessly. Both wielded formidable sword momentum, turning even an ordinary strike into a technique rivaling the ultimate moves of third-layer True Essence experts, if not surpassing them.
They lashed out with their swords again and again, their sharp momentum carving crisscrossing gashes across the arena until the steel platform looked as though it had been pieced together from shattered fragments.
The piercing edge of their momentum tore through the air, emitting shrill, ear-splitting screeches.
The entire arena was enveloped in sword momentum, each bearing a distinct nature. One carried sheer cutting power, threatening to slice the stage into countless shards.
The other was Gao Han's frigid sword momentum, which wove bone-chilling frost into its sharpness, seeking not only to cut but to freeze all creation solid.
Abruptly, the fierce duel halted. The two stood apart, watching one another warily, ready to fend off any incoming strike.
Their soaring sword momentum still blazed from their bodies; it was as if two peerless divine swords stood upon the arena, radiating unyielding pride.
"Gao Han! I will admit you are truly formidable, but you shall have no more chances. Ten Thousand Forms Return to One!" Jian Qingtian cried, thrusting his sword straight at Gao Han.
This strike differed subtly from his earlier use of the same technique—this time, he infused it with sword momentum.
The unassuming blade bore a sharpness capable of rending all things, leaving a faint trail in the air, so piercing that it carved marks even into empty space.
"Drawing Sword Strike!"
Gao Han activated his Soul Vision, and he spotted nearly a hundred strands of invisible sword qi swirling around Jian Qingtian's blade. Only with Soul Vision could he perceive them.
Frost swirled within Gao Han's pupils, turning them a pale, icy white.
The sword qi weaved through the air, and a single misstep would leave him riddled with wounds.
It was thanks to Soul Vision that he spotted the flaw in the technique. The surrounding sword qi formed one weakness, but at Gao Han's current speed, weaving through them was nothing more than a fool's dream.
Beyond that, the seemingly plain blade was wrapped in dense, sharp sword qi, making it no easy feat to break. Yet one spot on the sword's spine bore noticeably thinner layers of energy.
Having pinpointed the weakness, Gao Han unleashed the Drawing Sword Strike without hesitation.
A breathtaking flash of sword light sliced across the arena, carving a gash that split the entire stage in two. The frigid sword qi hurtled straight toward Jian Qingtian.
Jian Qingtian knew his own technique's flaw all too well. When he saw the sword qi aimed directly at it, he attempted to redirect his strike.
But at that moment, disaster struck. The sword qi was close enough that a slight dodge would have sufficed—yet he could not move fast enough.
The bitter cold seeped into his bones, slowing his movements drastically, leaving him unable to evade in time.
CLANG!
The sword qi struck the flaw, shattering the sword qi encasing Jian Qingtian's blade in an instant. His strike was thrown off balance, and the storm of invisible sword qi dissolved into thin air.
"What? You broke my technique that easily?" Jian Qingtian stared in shock. He had not even used this move against Duan Qianchou, for sword momentum infused into this strike made it nigh-unstoppable.
Though he did not know the full power of Duan Qianchou's secret art, he had believed this strike could overcome it. Yet Gao Han had shattered it with apparent ease.
"Mountain-Rending Strike!"
Without giving Jian Qingtian time to react, Gao Han struck out with two palms in unison, unleashing a earth-splitting, mountain-crushing force that bore down upon his foe.
The entire arena shuddered as if on the verge of collapse. Gao Han poured ninety-nine percent of his power into this strike, wielding nearly two-tenths Ice Momentum. At full two-tenths, Mountain-Rending Strike would unleash his absolute full strength.
"Formless Sword!"
Jian Qingtian felt as though his body would be torn apart. If that palm struck him, he would be ripped to shreds.
He unleashed one of his trump cards without hesitation: Grand Formless Sword. A technique of the same origin as the Formless Sword Sutra, its principles were nearly identical, yet its focus differed sharply.
The Formless Sword Sutra emphasized sustained, flowing power for prolonged battles. Grand Formless Sword, by contrast, focused on explosive instantaneous power, surpassing even the Formless Sword Sutra in sheer might—though its stamina cost was equally staggering, making it ideal for quick, decisive battles.
In the stands, Li Changtian exclaimed in shock, "Grand Formless Sword! Jian Wuxiang, do you command this art?"
Jian Wuxiang shook his head gently. "I do not. Qingtian learned it from my younger brother, Jian Wuxing. He is the second sword prodigy after Jingtianchi, so my brother could not resist taking him as a disciple."
Xiang Wentian's killing intent erupted toward the heavens. "You speak of Jian Wuxing? That old fiend still lives?"
Jian Wuxiang turned a cold gaze upon him. "What is the meaning of this? Do you seek a fight?"
"I fear you not! Come, then! I shall repay the debt of that sword he owed me!" Xiang Wentian roared, his killing intent surging so violently that it dyed the pitch-black sky blood-red.
Jian Wuxiang paid him no mind. He had no need to stand in for his brother. Five years prior, Jian Wuxing and Xiang Wentian had both been ninth-layer True Essence experts.
Young and hotheaded, they had challenged one another to a duel. Though evenly matched, Jian Wuxing's Grand Formless Sword granted him explosive final-strike power, and he had defeated Xiang Wentian by a single sword cut.
It was not that Jian Wuxiang lacked brotherly loyalty—Jian Wuxing simply had countless enemies, and he could not defend him from them all. Besides, Jian Wuxing's power far outstripped his own; he needed no protection.
Jian Qingtian's sword whirled so rapidly that it blurred into invisibility, his arm no longer discernible to the naked eye.
Crackling explosions echoed through the air, as if countless streaks of silver lightning flashed across the sky, hiding the sword's true path from view.
"Incredible speed! I cannot track it. To think Jian Qingtian held such a trump card in reserve—his power is truly astounding," spectators cried out in awe.
Lin Xiaoya smiled bitterly from the stands. Jian Qingtian had never unleashed this technique during their fight. Was the gap between them truly this vast?
Jian Qingtian shot toward Gao Han like a shooting star, arriving in the blink of an eye. The sword wind sliced painfully at Gao Han's face, leaving tiny fissures in his skin.
Yet what others could not see, Gao Han could. He tracked the sword's every movement with perfect clarity.
BOOM-BOOM-BOOM-BOOM!
The earth-shaking force of Gao Han's palm was instantly shattered by Jian Qingtian's sword, breaking into countless fragments that dissolved into the air.
Jian Qingtian pressed forward, his sword still aimed straight at Gao Han.
Gao Han's expression turned grave. This strike's power exceeded anything he had faced. His strongest technique could not even hold it back.
"It seems I must use that move," Gao Han thought grimly. "Sword-Shattering Strike!"
His Luoyu Sword trailed a long cyan-blue arc as he stabbed it toward Jian Qingtian's technique.
The strike erupted with shocking suddenness, as if cutting through layers of space, slithering like a serpent through the storm of sword shadows to pierce straight toward Jian Qingtian.
Evading the surrounding sword shadows, it struck the hilt of Jian Qingtian's sword, halting his advance in an instant.
All motion ceased, leaving only Gao Han and Jian Qingtian standing frozen upon the arena.
Sword-Shattering Strike was not Gao Han's most powerful technique, but it was his sharpest.
Gao Han intended to give Jian Qingtian no further chances. His opponent's strength had surpassed all expectations; without the Seven-Sword Art, he would surely have lost.
"Hidden Sword Strike! Sword-Shattering Strike!"
Gao Han unleashed two sword techniques in quick succession, leaping into the air as his blade vanished from sight. He thrust both palms toward Jian Qingtian.
The fierce palm wind ruffled Jian Qingtian's hair. He frowned in confusion. "Palms? Does he hold yet another trump card?"
"Mountain-Soaring Grandeur!"
Mid-air, Gao Han twisted his left hand and unleashed the technique, infused with full two-tenths Ice Momentum—his absolute, unbridled power.
The cold was so bitter that ice spread across the arena floor, layer upon layer, freezing Jian Qingtian in place, rendering him unable to move an inch.
Jian Qingtian felt frigid cold seeping into his body from all directions, stiffening his limbs and crippling his movement.
A colossal ice hand over forty feet wide materialized in the air, its fingers curling inward to clamp down on Jian Qingtian where he stood.
He circulated true essence at breakneck speed and shuddered violently, shattering the ice encasing his feet into glittering shards.
"This technique is powerful indeed. But you believe it alone can defeat me?" Jian Qingtian gripped his sword tightly, channeling the overwhelming momentum of heaven into the blade as he slashed at the giant ice hand.
This strike contained Jian Qingtian's full sword momentum, its power so overwhelming that it split the still-closing ice hand in two in an instant. The two halves hurtled past him and slammed into the ground behind.
BOOM-BOOM!
Two massive hand-shaped craters sank two feet deep into the steel arena, crushed flat by the sheer force—far more difficult than merely cutting through metal.
If cutting a foot into steel required one unit of power, crushing a foot deep demanded ten times that strength.
Yet Gao Han continued hurtling toward Jian Qingtian, striking out with his right palm.
"Ridiculous! Have you exhausted all your tricks? You dare face my sword with your bare hand?" Jian Qingtian truly believed Gao Han had run out of moves, lowering his guard as he casually slashed upward with his sword.
But halfway through his strike, Gao Han's wrist flicked, and the Luoyu Sword slid into his grasp from behind, stabbing toward Jian Qingtian with unstoppable piercing force.
"What? Where did that sword come from?" Jian Qingtian recoiled in terror, quickly reshaping his strike into Grand Formless Sword.
The aura of his sword shifted completely, vanishing from sight—this was the signature of Grand Formless Sword.
Though unleashed in haste, its power did not wane; in fact, it grew stronger. For Jian Qingtian's sword momentum had surged to an astonishing three-tenths.
CLANG!
Two streaks of blood flew through the air as the warriors were thrown backward.
Gao Han's white robe was torn to shreds by sword momentum, leaving him ragged and stripped of his poise.
Worse still, his body was covered in sword wounds, blood spurting forth and streaming down his arms.
Jian Qingtian was injured as well. Though his sword was powerful, he had been forced to react in haste, and injury was inevitable.
A long, deep gash stretched from his palm all the way to his armpit, left by the Sword-Shattering Strike. Though not deep enough to cripple his arm, it bled profusely.
Gao Han and Jian Qingtian stood apart, blood dripping steadily from their bodies and pooling beneath their feet.
"Gao Han! I admit I underestimated you. But if this is the full extent of your power, I urge you to surrender. This is my true strength—three-tenths sword momentum!" Jian Qingtian's sword momentum erupted toward the heavens, carving deep, chaotic gashes into the ground beneath his feet, as if scrawled by a wild brush.
Gao Han stared at him solemnly. "Come. I will continue to fight. I shall either erupt in silence, or perish in it."
He intended to push himself. His cultivation now stood at the peak of the first layer of True Essence, teetering on the edge of the second layer. One step forward, and he would break through.
"So you refuse to surrender. Stubborn," Jian Qingtian muttered. He whirled his sword, carving several arcs through the air.
Pushing off the ground, he shot toward Gao Han like a bolt of lightning, unleashing three-tenths sword momentum in full.
"Grand Formless Sword! Ten Thousand Forms Return to One! Formless Sky Escape!"
Three-tenths sword momentum was overwhelmingly powerful. Gao Han could barely block each successive strike; every two blows left a deep, bone-cutting wound on his body, making him shudder as blood gushed forth.
Though Gao Han circulated ice energy throughout his body to bolster his defense, it could only hold so much. Each strike pushed him to his limit.
Every time he blocked Jian Qingtian's sword, he was forced backward by the force, each step carving a deep footprint into the steel.
Still, he waited. He pushed his body to absorb more celestial spiritual energy, forcing himself to break through to the second layer of True Essence.