"I'd say Yang Tianling probably didn't know how powerful Senior Brother Sun Jian was, which was why he recklessly accepted the challenge."
"Exactly. They say Senior Brother Sun Jian's swift sword is something even some Late Saint God Realm elders admit they can't match."
"That Yang Tianling will be impressive if he can last ten moves against Senior Brother Sun Jian."
"Hey, I heard someone has already opened a betting pool over at the sect's market."
"Oh? Betting on what?"
"Betting on how many moves Yang Tianling can last, and whether he'll be killed on the spot."
The sounds of discussion, speculation, and schadenfreude rang out without end.
The entire Xuanba Sword Sect was churning with hidden currents because of the coming confrontation.
On Holy Son Peak.
When Li Ao learned that Yang Lingtian had accepted the challenge, a cruel, smug smile spread across his face.
"Good. Very good. This reckless fool really did accept."
"Sun Jian, three days from now, I want to see him with my own eyes, sprawled on the arena like a dead dog."
He could almost see Yang Lingtian splattered with blood and dying a miserable death on the arena.
Meanwhile, on Yanxia Peak, Liu Ruyan had grown increasingly curious—and wary—of Yang Lingtian's composure and calm.
She always felt that a thick fog surrounded Yang Tianling, making him utterly impossible to see through.
"Yang Tianling, what exactly are you trying to do? Are you really confident you can defeat Sun Jian? Or do you have some other scheme?"
She began to look forward to the confrontation three days later.
She wanted to see what kind of surprise this man, who even she found somewhat troublesome, could bring her.
The three-day deadline arrived in the blink of an eye.
The central main arena of the Xuanba