Xuan Hai accepted the order and left, returning shortly afterward with an armored soldier.
The soldier wore heavy black iron armor, a ring-pommel saber at his waist, and a bronze faceguard over his face, exposing only a pair of calm eyes. It was Zhou Hu. "Brother Lie, Zhou Hu has arrived."
Xuan Hai stepped aside. Zhou Hu cupped his fists to Xuan Fenglie in salute, and when his gaze shifted to Wang Yue, it carried a few traces of scrutiny.
"Come with me."
Xuan Fenglie rose and walked out of the tent, with Wang Yue and Zhou Hu close behind. A crowd of Dragon Transformation Guards quickly followed to watch the excitement. A Core Disciple competing against an armored soldier who had condensed a strength network was a rare sight indeed, and even quite a few newcomers who had just entered the camp craned their necks to squeeze closer.
In the center of the empty drill ground stood neatly arranged weapon racks, stocked with everything from long spears and short sabers to axes, halberds, hooks, and forks.
Wang Yue had arrived in a hurry and had not brought his Breaking Force Spear. He stepped forward and took a pitch-black iron spear from the rack. Its shaft was heavy in his hand, weighing more than thirty pounds, while its tip gleamed with chilling light.
Zhou Hu did not take a weapon. He stood barehanded on the other side of the field, as steady as a mountain, exuding the fierce aura of one long tempered by battle.
"This sparring match ends at the proper point. No lives are to be harmed."
Xuan Fenglie sat on a stone bench at the edge of the field, his voice ringing like a bell. "Begin!"
The instant his words fell, Wang Yue's palms began to burn.