"Gao Han…" Situ Yan sobbed uncontrollably from the stands, while Gao Jianfeng and the others watched him with grave concern.
"Gao Han is doomed this time. Even for all his strength, he is still at the first layer of True Essence; there is a limit to how far he can go."
"True. But his stubborn persistence is practically courting death. Still, this unyielding spirit moves me."
"Spirit? It is sheer foolishness—hopelessly so."
Yet one man disagreed: Lin Xiaoya, who had once fought Jian Qingtian himself.
Though his power was no match for Gao Han or Jian Qingtian, his discerning eye was unmatched. As a scion of a great realm power, he possessed breadth of vision few could rival.
Lin Xiaoya's gaze lowered as he murmured, "For all Gao Han's disadvantage, watch closely—he is fighting a steady, defensive battle. Jian Qingtian holds the upper hand, yet even with everything he has, he cannot finish Gao Han. That means a counterattack is still possible."
The others stared at Lin Xiaoya as if he were mad. Gao Han hung by a thread; one misstep and he would fall. To turn the tide was utterly unthinkable.
On the arena, Gao Han's body was covered in wounds—crisscrossing gashes that seeped blood ceaselessly.
The entire stage was stained crimson. Weak from blood loss, his head swam, and he had to muster every last ounce of strength to block each of Jian Qingtian's strikes.
Jian Qingtian, too, grew increasingly frustrated. He was already fighting at full tilt, every strike unleashing his complete power, and sweat streamed down his face. Yet Gao Han simply refused to yield, leaving him with no choice but to keep attacking with all his might.
CLANG! SHHH!
Jian Qingtian's sword flicked aside Gao Han's guard, and another blade sliced into his chest, leaving a gash deep enough to see bone. Blood spurted forth; Gao Han now bore at least ten such wounds.
Gao Han dropped to one knee, propping himself up with his sword. The frost-attuned true essence in his meridians circulated furiously, freezing out any of Jian Qingtian's invading energy.
"Gao Han! I urge you to surrender. You are no match for me," Jian Qingtian panted heavily, wiping the sweat from his brow in exasperation.
Blood glinted eerily in the torchlight. Both warriors were nearly drained. Jian Qingtian retained roughly forty percent of his true essence; Gao Han held less than twenty.
"If you will not yield, I shall unleash my final trump card. Beware—this technique is one I fused myself, and I cannot yet control it perfectly. It may kill you." Jian Qingtian's expression turned solemn as he gripped his sword, silvery radiance flickering around the blade, signaling his imminent strike.
"Unleash whatever you have. I will meet it," Gao Han said haltingly, forcing himself upright, standing straight and unyielding.
"So be it. I shall not hold back. Formless and Unseen."
Jian Qingtian whirled his sword until it vanished from sight, much like Gao Han's Hidden Sword Strike. With seemingly nothing in his hand, he thrust straight toward Gao Han.
"Soul Vision!"
Gao Han's vision blurred, yet he still channeled soul power into his eyes. Two orbs glinting with bitter frost locked onto Jian Qingtian.
All he could make out was a hazy swirl of sword shadows lunging toward him.
Beyond that, nothing was clear—simply speed so great it defied the eye, fundamentally different from his own Hidden Sword Strike.
Even if one could see it, dodging was another matter entirely. Gao Han's speed simply could not match Jian Qingtian's at this moment.
PFFT-PFFT-PFFT-PFFT-PFFT!
Jian Qingtian closed in, and fresh holes tore through Gao Han's tattered robes. Blood streamed down his body, dyeing the once-white garment deep crimson.
Gao Han failed to block a single strike. Every thrust of Jian Qingtian's sword opened a new bleeding wound, and he began to suffer from severe blood deprivation.
BOOM!
A final jab struck Gao Han's chest, sending his body hurtling off the arena.
CLANG!
Gao Han stabbed his sword downward into the stage edge, halting his fall. One foot already hung off the platform; only his toes touched the metal, his sword buried a foot deep in the steel. He clung tightly to the hilt, refusing to drop.
By some mercy, he had circulated frost energy throughout his body, which deflected the blade's full force away from his vitals. Otherwise, that strike would have killed him outright.
Yet even so, he was gravely injured. A bitter taste rose in his throat, and he bit down hard to keep from spitting blood, which trickled from the corners of his mouth.
"Fall!"
Jian Qingtian shot toward him like a speeding arrow, closing in fast.
Gao Han was utterly exhausted, on the verge of collapsing from sheer weakness. He would have fallen even without Jian Qingtian's attack.
At that decisive moment, as his strength ebbed to its limit, his body began absorbing spiritual energy from the air at a frantic pace. In an instant, it drained every wisp of energy from the entire arena.
A black funnel swirled around him, spiritual energy surging toward his body in a violent gale.
Crackling sounds erupted within him as the energy rushed into his dantian, transforming into frost-attuned true essence that circulated in a great cycle through his meridians.
All of this unfolded in a split second—far faster than Jian Qingtian could reach him.
Everyone witnessed the spectacle, Jian Qingtian most clearly of all. He not only saw it but felt the violent ripples of spiritual energy.
The protective barrier around the arena had long since been lifted by You Canghai. While the barrier contained destructive force, it also blocked external spiritual energy.
With the energy inside the barrier devoured instantly, You Canghai had acted without hesitation to open it up, allowing fresh energy to flood in—lest Gao Han lose his chance to break through.
Jian Qingtian closed in, fingers pressed together into a fist, and slammed it toward Gao Han's chest. The blow drew nearer by the instant, mere inches away.
If Gao Han did not complete his breakthrough at once, he would lose.
Just as Jian Qingtian's fist hovered a foot from his chest, a thunderous roar erupted within Gao Han's body. True essence surged from his dantian into his meridians like a bursting river, circulating at blinding speed.
The second layer of True Essence—achieved!
A mighty wave of power radiated from him. The breakthrough restored half his depleted strength, though his wounds could not heal so quickly.
Gao Han pushed off the stage with his palm, launching himself into the air as he pulled his sword free. He whirled the blade twice and unleashed the Sword-Shattering Strike, thrusting toward Jian Qingtian.
Sensing the surging aura around Gao Han, Jian Qingtian knew he had broken through—and that a single punch would no longer suffice.
"Formless and Unseen!"
His sword vanished once more, stabbing straight toward Gao Han mid-air.
"Soul Vision! Hidden Sword Strike!"
Gao Han's blade also disappeared, leaving the scene uncannily surreal—as if the two warriors charged one another with empty hands.
"Gao Han actually broke through mid-battle? What a prodigy!"
"Not just a prodigy—a prodigy among prodigies. Geniuses are countless across the Cangnan Continent, but few can break through in the heat of combat."
"Now the outcome is anyone's guess!"
Jian Qingtian's every strike targeted Gao Han's chest, but Gao Han's Soul Vision tracked every blade's path with perfect clarity.
CLANG-CLANG-CLANG-CLANG!
Gao Han's sword seemed to cut through layers of space, materializing in his hand in an instant. It weaved nimbly, narrowly slipping through the invisible sword shadows.
He was struck several times along the way, yet the piercing power of the Sword-Shattering Strike carried it forward, aimed straight at Jian Qingtian's hilt.
CLANG!
The two swords clashed violently, sending a powerful shockwave rippling outward. Gao Han was thrown higher into the air, while Jian Qingtian was forced back a full ten feet.
Though Gao Han's breakthrough had greatly strengthened his true essence, his sword momentum, ice momentum, and techniques did not rise simply with his cultivation base—they demanded comprehension and enlightenment.
At this point, Jian Qingtian and Gao Han stood as near-equals. The battle now came down to willpower—whoever held the stronger resolve would claim final victory.
Gao Han channeled his ice-aligned sword momentum into his blade and slashed downward. Jian Qingtian activated his movement art to dodge in an instant, then spun and struck back with three-tenths sword momentum, its edge sharp enough to split the void.
Gao Han likewise used Phantom Stride to evade. Two streams of sword qi slammed into opposite corners of the arena; one corner sheared off completely, felled by Jian Qingtian's strike.
Gao Han's sword qi had also sliced off a section, yet the frost clinging to it froze the fragment back into place.
Sword qi crisscrossed the arena, and frosty palm force rained down, cracking the steel stage and leaving crisp palm prints with every strike.
The two exchanged over a hundred blows, each strike more ferocious than the last. Gao Han wielded both sword and palm in tandem, turning the arena into a whirlwind of chaos.
One man was on the verge of tears: Lu Shuang. Tears streamed down his face as he wailed inwardly. He had built this arena hoping it would last for years, saving the realm silver. Yet these young masters were so powerful that they were tearing apart the steel stage as if it were kindling.
The entire arena had been funded by the royal family. Past arenas, mostly stone, had been damaged too—but this steel one, forged in haste at great cost, had been meant to endure for tournaments to come. Now it lay in ruins after just one battle between Gao Han and Jian Qingtian.
The labor alone had cost millions of taels of silver, to say nothing of the steel itself.
"A hundred strikes! After such a brutal fight, they have clashed a hundred more times!"
"Each strike grows more powerful. I could not block a single one of their swords, let alone a hundred. These two are monstrous!"
"If I could reach their level in three years, the heavens would have blessed me indeed," a young first-layer True Essence warrior murmured.
Another glanced at him with disdain. "Their battle has already reached the level of fifth-layer True Essence experts. You, a mere first-layer cultivator, think you can reach that in three years? You are dreaming."
The young man refused to back down. "Do you look down on first-layer cultivators? Gao Han was at the first layer too, and he fights Jian Qingtian as an equal!"
The crowd fell silent for a moment, then exclaimed in realization. "Right! He defeated the Blazing Palm Wensiren with ease. It is only fitting that he and the other top fighters earn titles."
After much discussion, they bestowed epithets upon the strongest combatants: Ice Hero Gao Han, Sword Hero Jian Qingtian, Leg Hero Duan Qianchou, Iron Hero Hao Han, Lotus Maiden Yue Ling, Blazing Palm Wensiren, Wanderer Hero Nian Hua, and Sword-Struggler Lin Xiaoya.
They planned to name the remaining top ten once the rankings were final.
At first, they had argued over whether Gao Han or Jian Qingtian deserved the title Sword Hero. But it soon became clear that Gao Han's palm arts matched his sword skill, and his movement art was peerless.
Jian Qingtian relied primarily on swordsmanship and agility. And so Jian Qingtian became the Sword Hero. Since every one of Gao Han's attacks carried frost that could even harm the soul, they coined a title never before used: Ice Hero.
As the crowd finished their debate, the battle reached its climax.
Silvery sword qi and cyan-blue sword radiance tangled together and soared toward the sky. Wave after wave of explosive force rippled outward, shattering the ice-frozen fragments of the arena until the whole stage collapsed completely.
Both warriors, drained of all strength by their final strikes, plummeted toward the ground.
Everyone's eyes widened. Whoever landed first would lose—it all came down to luck.
Gao Han's body hung slightly lower. The crowd sighed in disappointment. It was not a lack of strength, but ill fortune. Luck was part of power, and though they pitied him, there was nothing to be said.
But just as all thought Gao Han's defeat certain, his soul power erupted. Layers upon layers of ice formed beneath his feet, suspending him mid-air.
THUD.
Jian Qingtian's body crashed to the ground.
Gao Han had prevailed. He was the champion.