The collision at first contact had happened in one smooth burst. Everyone thought something had gone wrong with the treasured sword—that it had exploded. Even the group of swordmasters failed to see the truth. After all, in their eyes, Xing'er was merely a frail, isolated girl who had aged prematurely, and her swordsmanship was mediocre. It was impossible for her to have become a swordmaster overnight.
"Teacher! Every disciple from the Lesser Sword Arena has to win five matches alone before they can go to the Greater Sword Arena for the next promotion round. I'm still short by three points. Can you let me take the next match!?" Haizi Yu volunteered eagerly.
The Wang-surnamed swordmaster had essentially already chosen her, so of course she did not object. "Very well. You're Xing'er's classmate, so let the two of you spar. But remember to stop once the outcome is clear. Even at your level, controlling your strength is difficult."
"I understand, Teacher!" Haizi Yu watched as the terrified Yang Pingping was carried off the arena, then proudly raised her sword and stepped onto the platform. The sword in her hand was also a real sword, and she did not feel the slightest bit ashamed. "Junior Sister Xing'er, I'm not Ping'er. You should know how sharp the sword in my hand is. Blades have no eyes, so you'd better be careful. I'd advise you to switch to a real sword as well."
"No need. Senior Sister, draw your sword." Xing'er had gained experience from the first match and was now even more confident in her swordsmanship. For immortals, swordsmanship was also a long road of cultivation. Sword momentum, Sword Qi, and sword intent were all indispensable. Once all three had been refined to the utmost, so what if Sword Qi faced a real