At the summit of Moonwatch Mountain, in the inner spectator area.
The instant Yang Jing rose, a chorus of encouragement erupted from the Profound Truth Sect's spectator area beside him.
His fellow disciples watched with burning eyes and solemn expressions, all their hopes gathered in their gazes as they quietly urged him on.
Having fought his way through round after round of eliminations, overcome numerous Heavenly Prodigies, and reached the lofty stage of the semifinals, Yang Jing had long since become the Profound Truth Sect's greatest pride.
Everyone knew that the coming battle might be the sect's final fight in this tournament. Victory meant advancing to the final to contend for first place; defeat meant stopping here, bringing their journey to a regretful close.
No one let their attention slacken. They all silently hoped Yang Jing could work another miracle.
Among the crowd, Sun Ningxiang stood quietly. The smile had faded from her lovely face, her lips pressed tightly together, anxiety and concern hidden in her eyes.
She raised her gaze toward Yang Jing as he stood, her clear eyes meeting his steadily from afar.
The moment their eyes met, a thousand words became silent support.
There were no cheers, no words, only a gentle nod-simple yet weighty, carrying complete trust and unspoken support. It was the only strength she could give him now.
Yang Jing saw it, and warmth quietly flowed through his heart. His calm, restrained state of mind blazed once more with fighting spirit.
He nodded slightly to Sun Ningxiang, a faint smile curling his lips. The dormant fighting spirit around him instantly boiled and surged, climbing ever higher.
Since entering the Jintai Grand Tournament, he had advanced steadily, easily winning match after match. Yet he had long yearned for a true confrontation, a grueling battle that