Real Combat Decides

On Arena No. 37, Sword Light flashed and Sword Qi crisscrossed.

Shen Hao and Zhao Qiang traded blows, locked in a fierce stalemate. Zhao Qiang's cultivation was at Mid Stage Qi Refining Third Layer, and his sword technique had considerable polish—the three forms of cleave, thrust, and slash roared with power.

Shen Hao's cultivation was at Perfected Qi Refining Third Layer, and his integration of footwork with sword technique was exquisitely refined. Relying on his masterful steps, he constantly evaded Zhao Qiang's attacks, then seized openings to counterstrike.

Their battle was intensely heated. The disciples below watched with rapt attention, bursts of exclamations rising now and then.

"Shen Hao is incredible! His footwork is downright ghostly!" "Zhao Qiang's no slouch either! His sword strikes are razor-sharp!" "This fight is too thrilling!"

Shen Hao and Zhao Qiang had already exchanged dozens of rounds. Both of their breaths were somewhat ragged.

Zhao Qiang knew that if this continued, he would surely lose. Gritting his teeth, he abruptly poured all the Spiritual Energy from his Sea of Qi into his Flying Sword.

"Shen Hao, take this!" Zhao Qiang bellowed, gripping his Flying Sword as he slashed fiercely toward Shen Hao.

This strike gathered all of Zhao Qiang's power, its might boundless. The spiritual light on the blade blazed dazzlingly.

Shen Hao's expression turned grave. He knew this blow could not be met head-on.

He shifted his footing, his body sliding several feet in an instant, dodging Zhao Qiang's attack. Then, seizing the flaw where Zhao Qiang's old force had spent and new force had yet to arise, he twisted his wrist. The Flying Sword shot out like a venomous snake emerging from its lair, stabbing straight for Zhao Qiang's chest.

Zhao Qiang's face changed drastically. He wanted to dodge, but it was too late.

Pfft!

The Flying Sword pierced Zhao Qiang's chest, and blood gushed out instantly.

Zhao Qiang's body swayed, then crumpled to the ground.

"Shen Hao wins!" the elder on Arena No. 37 announced.

From the disciples below, a thunderous round of applause erupted.

Shen Hao sheathed his sword and stood upright, bowing to Zhao Qiang. "You yielded," he said.

He stepped off the arena and looked toward Arena No. 15. There, Zhang Shan's opponent was a disciple named Sun Li, whose cultivation was at Mid Stage Qi Refining Second Layer.

Relying on the Basic Footwork Technique and his Early Qi Refining Second Layer cultivation, Zhang Shan fought Sun Li to a standstill. But Sun Li's experience surpassed Zhang Shan's. Seizing an opportunity, she gripped her Flying Sword and stabbed sharply at Zhang Shan's thigh.

Zhang Shan failed to dodge in time. The Flying Sword gashed his thigh, and blood streamed down.

Zhang Shan's face turned pale. Yet he did not concede. Clenching his teeth, he gripped his Flying Sword and charged at Sun Li once more.

Shen Hao watched Zhang Shan's figure, a glint of approval flashing in his eyes. He knew Zhang Shan's perseverance was formidable.

Finally, Zhang Shan seized an opening. Gripping his Flying Sword, he stabbed fiercely at Sun Li's arm. Sun Li couldn't dodge in time, and the blade cut her arm.

Sun Li sighed. "I concede," she said.

The elder on Arena No. 15 declared Zhang Shan the victor.

Zhang Shan walked off the arena and ran to Shen Hao's side, a pained smile on his face. "Senior Brother Shen, I won!"

Shen Hao looked at the wound on Zhang Shan's leg. "Quick, take out the Blood-Stopping Grass and apply it," he said.

Zhang Shan nodded, pulled a stalk of Blood-Stopping Grass from his bosom, and pressed it onto his leg. The herb's medicinal effect took hold swiftly, and the bleeding gradually stopped.

The second round of competition ended quickly. Shen Hao and Zhang Shan both advanced once more.

Next came the third round. This round was the final one. The victor would enter the top hundred and become an Inner Sect Disciple.

Shen Hao's opponent was Wang Hu.

Wang Hu's cultivation was at Early Qi Refining Third Layer. But his sword technique was extremely solid. He was a genius among the Outer Sect Disciples, formidable in strength.

The two stepped onto the arena and stood facing each other.

"Shen Hao, I didn't expect my final opponent to be you." Wang Hu's face showed a hint of gravity. "You're strong. But I won't give up easily."

Shen Hao smiled. "Please enlighten me," he said.

The moment the words fell, both of them gripped their Flying Swords and charged at each other.

Sword light flashed fiercely, sword qi crisscrossed. A battle that would decide the quota for inner sect disciple had officially begun.