Lin Xuan walked down from the arena with a calm expression, turning a blind eye to the astonishment of the surrounding crowd as he returned to the Post House on his own.
"Did you see that? That kid from the Heavenly Azure Tribe is so strong."
"Yeah. He turned defeat into victory in an instant, and I didn't expect him to be proficient in both fire and poison divine abilities too."
"The main thing is that the Witcher from the Dust Wind Tribe was useless. He had the Ghost Snake Whip in hand and still lost in such a muddled mess."
All sorts of discussions entered his ears. Master Withered Leaf was naturally overjoyed, while Xiao Kun's face was full of venomous resentment, but none of that mattered anymore. The Ink Moon Tribe had iron laws: Witchers were forbidden from private duels. Besides, even if he truly wanted revenge, how could he possibly be Lin Xuan's match?
Although this contest left people savoring it endlessly, it was soon thrown to the back of everyone's mind. The spectators surged toward the other arenas again. The Witchcraft Assembly had entered its third day; all the weak hands had been eliminated, and every match was a clash between the strong, with brilliance coming one after another.
After returning to the Post House, Lin Xuan once again shut himself in and did not go out. Speaking of it, this time had truly been somewhat dangerous. He had not expected that winning too quickly would likewise draw everyone's attention.
Fortunately, this matter had come to an end. After winning three matches in a row, according to the rules, his tribe could already receive a share of the spirit medicine. Though it was not much, four pills were already enough for him to use.