Dark Horse Stance, Crushing All the Way

The first rays of dawn pierced through the window lattice, falling onto Lin Fan's face.

He slowly opened his eyes, a sharp glint flashing and disappearing within them. Not only had his stamina fully recovered after a night of meditation, but his internal Origin Energy had also become even more abundant. What surprised him further was that his understanding of the Gale Sword Technique had deepened by another layer, as if he had been practicing swordsmanship in his dreams all night.

[Gale Sword Technique: Proficient (2987/5000)]

He was only a little over two thousand points away from Minor Accomplishment.

"I should be able to break through today," Lin Fan said, getting up and stretching his limbs, his bones emitting faint cracking sounds.

"Brother Fan, you're awake?" Chen Dahu sat up from the opposite bed, rubbing his eyes. "I think I heard you muttering about some sword moves last night..."

"Practicing swordsmanship even in my dreams," Lin Fan chuckled. "Let's go, grab something to eat. It's time to head to the arena."

The two briefly washed up and went to the cafeteria for breakfast. The cafeteria was unusually lively today, with almost everyone discussing the upcoming mini-competition.

"Did you hear? Zhang Kuanghu boasted yesterday that he'd finish all his opponents within ten moves!"

"Zhao Gang isn't bad either. His family's Gale Blade Technique is said to have reached Major Accomplishment."

"Li Long and Sun Hu seem to have also broken through to the peak of 2nd grade. The top four in this mini-competition will probably be those four."

"What about Lin Fan? Isn't he the top student in the Regular Class?"

"Lin Fan? Heh, he's from a commoner background. How strong can he really be? I doubt he'll even pass the preliminary rounds."

Amidst the chatter, Lin Fan calmly ate his steamed bun, as if the words had nothing to do with him.

Chen Dahu, however, was somewhat indignant. "These people have no idea about your strength, Brother Fan..."

"It doesn't matter," Lin Fan said, taking the last sip of his porridge. "Strength isn't something you talk about; it's something you prove through fighting."

As the hour of Chen approached, the two left the cafeteria and walked towards the martial arts arena in the center of the academy.

The arena occupied a vast area, capable of holding tens of thousands of people. Currently, fifty platforms had been set up, arranged in a circular pattern. Each platform was three feet high and ten zhang wide, constructed from hard black granite, sturdy enough to withstand battles below the Martial Master level.

The area around the platforms was already crowded with students. Some were nervously preparing for their matches, some were excitedly watching, and others were setting up betting pools. It was a scene of bustling activity.

Lin Fan found platform number seven and sat down in the competitor's resting area. Chen Dahu's platform, number three, was on the other side. Before they parted, Chen Dahu patted Lin Fan's shoulder forcefully. "Brother Fan, good luck!"

"You too," Lin Fan nodded.

Precisely at the hour of Chen, the bell rang.

A referee in a black robe ascended the central high platform, his voice amplified by a sound array that spread throughout the venue. "The Jiangnan Martial Arts Academy Regular Class Monthly Mini-Competition officially begins! The preliminary rounds will be a round-robin format. Each group will have five participants, and each participant must fight four matches. One win earns three points, a draw earns one point, and a loss earns zero points. The top two participants from each group will advance to the top one hundred!"

The rules were simple and clear.

"Now, please have the referees for each platform take their positions. The first round of matches begins!"

As the words fell, fifty platforms simultaneously came to life with combat.

The referee for platform seven was a middle-aged woman with a stern expression. She unfurled the roster in her hand and announced loudly, "First round for Group Seven: Number one versus number two, number three versus number four. Please have the contestants come to the stage!"

Lin Fan stood up, tidied his collar, and steadily walked onto the platform.

Opposite him, a burly youth with a face full of coarse flesh also walked up. He held a thick-bladed saber, its surface gleaming coldly. It was Liu Mang.

"Lin Fan?" Liu Mang grinned, revealing yellow teeth. "Heard your swordsmanship is pretty good? Too bad you ran into me today. You're out of luck."

Lin Fan didn't reply, merely drawing his wooden training sword slowly.

The referee glanced at the two. "Match rules: no intentional maiming, no use of prohibited substances, no attacking downed opponents. A participant loses if they concede, fall off the platform, or lose their combat ability. Understood?"

"Understood," both nodded simultaneously.

"Begin!"

Before the referee's voice had even finished, Liu Mang exploded into action!

He stomped his foot, shaking the platform, and charged at Lin Fan like a wild bull. He raised his saber high, initiating the signature move of the Mountain Breaking Saber – Cleaving Mountain, Shattering Stone!

The saber wind howled, the momentum astonishing!

The audience below gasped, "What powerful momentum! This saber strike carries at least three thousand jin of force!"

"Lin Fan is finished. He's still using a wooden sword, how can he block that?"

"Quick, dodge!"

However, Lin Fan didn't dodge.

His feet remained planted, and he thrust his wooden sword diagonally, seemingly slow but incredibly precise, aiming for Liu Mang's wrist.

Gale Stab!

No fancy moves, no charging up, just the simplest, most direct thrust.

But the timing of this thrust was impeccable – precisely when Liu Mang's old strength was exhausted and his new strength had yet to arise, precisely when his saber was raised high and his chest was left wide open.

Liu Mang's expression changed, and he hurriedly altered his stance, bringing his saber down to block.

But Lin Fan's sword had already retracted, followed by another thrust, this time aimed at his throat.

Liu Mang blocked again.

The third thrust targeted his lower abdomen.

The fourth thrust aimed for his knee.

The fifth thrust, aimed at the shoulder.

Five consecutive thrusts, each forcing Liu Mang to defend and interrupting his offensive rhythm. He had attacked first, his strength was greater, yet Lin Fan, using the simplest sword techniques, had thrown him into a fluster.

"What's going on?" someone in the audience couldn't understand. "Why is Liu Mang only defending?"

"Look at Lin Fan's sword!" an observant spectator exclaimed. "Every single one of his strikes lands in the most uncomfortable spot for Liu Mang, forcing him to defend. This sword technique... it's too precise!"

Liu Mang grew more and more frustrated as he fought.

His Mountain Breaking Saber relied on brute force, emphasizing relentless offense to overcome skill. But Lin Fan gave him no chance to build momentum. Just as he was about to exert his strength, a sword would thrust at him, forcing him to break his rhythm.

If this continued, he would be worn down to death!

"Damn it, I'm going all out!" A fierce glint flashed in Liu Mang's eyes. He suddenly ignored the sword thrusting towards his chest and swung his saber with all his might, intending to trade injuries!

The crowd gasped, "Liu Mang has gone mad!"

The referee also clenched his fists, ready to intervene at any moment.

However, Lin Fan's expression remained unchanged. He suddenly retracted his thrusting sword, his footwork shifted, and his body moved half a step to the side like a phantom, precisely dodging the saber's edge.

At the same time, his wooden sword followed suit, a sweeping upward slash.

Gale Sweep!

This sweep landed precisely on the inside of Liu Mang's wrist.

"Ah!" Liu Mang cried out in pain, his saber flying from his grasp and clattering onto the stage below.

He clutched his wrist, cold sweat pouring down his face from the pain. Although Lin Fan had used a wooden sword, the force was incredibly precise, striking an acupuncture point on his wrist and numbing his entire arm.

"Do you still want to fight?" Lin Fan's sword tip stopped three inches from his throat.

Liu Mang's expression flickered, and he finally gritted his teeth, "I... surrender."

"Group A, Match 7, First Round, Contestant Number Three, Lin Fan wins!" the referee announced loudly.

The crowd was silent for a moment, then erupted into discussion.

"He won? Lin Fan just won like that?"

"That was too fast! How many moves was that?"

"Liu Mang is an early 2nd-grade fighter, and he lost just like that?"

"Did you guys see Lin Fan's sword technique clearly? It looked like... it looked like the most basic Gale Sword Technique?"

"That's right, it's the basic sword technique! But he used it so skillfully, every strike was perfectly placed!"

Lin Fan sheathed his sword and stepped off the stage, his expression calm, as if he had just done something insignificant.

[Gale Sword Technique Proficiency +50]

[Combat Experience +20]

System notifications flashed by.

One battle was equivalent to half a day of his usual hard training.

"As expected, real combat is the fastest way to grow," Lin Fan thought to himself.

He returned to the resting area and sat down, closing his eyes to regulate his breathing and digest the insights from the recent battle.

Not far away, a few students watching the match were whispering.

"This Lin Fan isn't simple."

"Liu Mang's loss was a bit unfair; he was suppressed before he could even show his full strength."

"It's not unfair, it's just that Lin Fan's sword technique completely countered him. Speed against slowness, skill against brute force – it was a complete tactical victory."

"It looks like he really has the strength to contend for the top two spots in the group."

The first round of matches concluded one after another.

Half an hour later, the second round began.

"Group A, Match 7, Second Round, Contestant Number Three, Lin Fan versus Contestant Number Five, please come to the stage!"

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Lin Fan stepped onto the stage again.

His opponent this time was a tall, thin young man wielding a pair of short spears. He had clearly watched Lin Fan's previous match and immediately adopted a hit-and-run tactic, his twin spears darting out like a venomous snake's tongue, targeting Lin Fan's lower body, attempting to counter speed with speed.

Lin Fan still used the Gale Sword Technique, but this time, he changed his strategy.

He no longer aimed for a single decisive blow but used his sword technique in conjunction with his footwork, moving around the stage, searching for openings in his opponent's attacks.

After ten moves, the tall, thin youth began to grow anxious. His dual spear attacks became more ferocious, but also revealed more openings.

On the twentieth move, Lin Fan seized an opening. His wooden sword shot out like a viper from its den, striking the opponent's right shoulder.

The tall, thin youth grunted, and his short spears fell from his grasp.

"I surrender," he said, quite frankly.

"Round two, Lin Fan wins!"

The crowd below erupted in an uproar once more.

"He won again?"

"It took him twenty moves this time, but he still seemed to be holding back."

"Did you guys notice? Lin Fan's sword technique seems to be improving? It was a bit rough in the first match, but much smoother this time."

"What a monster..."

In the third round, Lin Fan's opponent was a burly man wielding a hammer. This man possessed immense Strength, and each swing of his hammer made the very stage tremble.

Lin Fan still met him with the Gale Sword Technique, but this time, he incorporated more evasive maneuvers. He would sometimes rush in to attack and other times weave around at a distance, completely toying with his opponent.

After thirty moves, the burly man's stamina gave out. Lin Fan struck his chest with his sword, forcing him to concede defeat.

"Round three, Lin Fan wins!"

With three victories, he accumulated nine points and secured his spot in the next stage of the competition ahead of schedule.

Meanwhile, the first round on other stages had only just concluded their second matches.

A crowd had already gathered around Stage Seven. Everyone was discussing this dark horse who had suddenly emerged.

"Three wins, and all with a basic sword technique!"

"His opponents weren't weak either. Liu Mang was at the early stage of 2nd grade, and the next two were at the peak of 1st grade."

"The scariest part is, he doesn't seem to have used his full strength..."

"Look at his cultivation, he still seems to be 1st grade? How did he do it?"

Amidst the murmurs of the crowd, Lin Fan stepped off the stage, preparing for his fourth round.

However, as soon as he sat down, he heard a furious roar from the adjacent stage: "I concede!"

It was Chen Dahu's voice.

Lin Fan frowned and quickly walked towards Stage Three.

On the stage, Chen Dahu was kneeling on one knee, blood trickling from the corner of his mouth. His right arm was bent at an unnatural angle, clearly broken. Facing him, a young man in black stood with his hands behind his back, his expression indifferent.

"Zhang Kuanghu!" someone exclaimed.

It was Zhang Kuanghu, one of the four strongest fighters in the Regular Class.

The referee announced, "Fourth round of Group A, Stage Three: Zhang Kuanghu wins! With this, Zhang Kuanghu has won all four matches and secured first place in the group!"

Zhang Kuanghu didn't even glance at Chen Dahu as he turned and stepped off the stage. As he passed Lin Fan, he paused briefly, shot him a sideways glance, and a cold smirk touched his lips. "Next up, it's you."

With that, he strode away.

Lin Fan ignored him and quickly went to help Chen Dahu up. "How are you?"

"I'm fine..." Chen Dahu gritted his teeth in pain. "Just a broken arm, it'll heal in a few days. Brother Fan, that Zhang Kuanghu is too strong. His Fierce Tiger Fist has reached Major Accomplishment, and the force of a single punch exceeds five thousand jin. I couldn't block it at all..."

"Go get treatment first," Lin Fan said, supporting him towards the medical team.

On the way, Chen Dahu lowered his voice. "Brother Fan, Zhang Kuanghu did that on purpose. He could have easily defeated me, but he deliberately dragged out the fight for over twenty moves. Each time, he used his fist wind to shake my internal organs, and only then did he punch my arm and break it... He was showing off, to you."

"I know," Lin Fan's eyes turned cold.

After handing Chen Dahu over to the medical team, Lin Fan returned to Stage Seven.

The fourth round was about to begin.

"Group A, Stage Seven, Fourth Round! Competitor number three, Lin Fan, versus competitor number one! Please step onto the stage!"

Lin Fan's final opponent was a young man in white who also wielded a sword. This person had a stern demeanor and his swordsmanship was not weak. He, too, had won all three of his previous matches, placing him in a tie for first place with Lin Fan in the group.

This match would determine who would take the top spot.

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

The young man in white cupped his fists. "Zhao Qing, please guide me."

"Lin Fan."

The referee announced the start.

Zhao Qing attacked first, his long sword like a rainbow, thrusting directly at Lin Fan's face. His swordsmanship was clearly more refined than his previous opponents, with dense sword light and a balanced offense and defense.

Lin Fan continued to use the Gale Sword Technique to counter.

But this time, he felt the pressure.

Zhao Qing's swordsmanship had reached the Proficient level, and his foundation was solid, leaving almost no openings. After more than thirty exchanges, neither could gain the upper hand.

The spectators below watched intently.

"This Zhao Qing isn't weak either; his sword technique is very steady."

"Lin Fan has finally met his match."

"Look, Lin Fan's sword technique seems to be changing again..."

Indeed, Lin Fan's sword technique was changing.

For the first thirty moves, he was still suppressed by Zhao Qing. But starting from the thirty-first move, his sword suddenly became a bit faster, a bit more accurate, and a bit more exquisite.

[Gale Sword Technique Proficiency +30]

[Gale Sword Technique Proficiency +30]

[Gale Sword Technique Proficiency +30]

System notifications popped up wildly.

During the battle, Lin Fan's understanding of swordsmanship improved rapidly. Every sword strike from Zhao Qing was like a mirror, reflecting the shortcomings in his own swordsmanship. While defending, he was also learning, absorbing, and progressing.

On the fortieth move, Lin Fan's sword suddenly thrust at a strange angle, piercing through Zhao Qing's sword net and stopping before his throat.

Zhao Qing froze, then gave a wry smile, "I lost."

He sheathed his sword and cupped his fists, "Brother Lin's swordsmanship is superb, I am impressed. Especially in the last ten moves, your swordsmanship advanced by leaps and bounds, it's simply unbelievable."

"Brother Zhao is too kind," Lin Fan sheathed his sword and returned the salute.

"Group A, Match 7, Round 4, Lin Fan wins! With this, Lin Fan has won all four matches and advanced as group leader!"

Enthusiastic applause erupted from below the stage.

Four wins out of four, and he had defeated all opponents, including a 2nd Grade Martial Artist, with a basic sword technique.

Such a record was enough to make everyone look at him with newfound respect.

As Lin Fan descended the stage, countless eyes fell upon him. There was surprise, admiration, jealousy, and even hostility.

He walked through the crowd expressionlessly and returned to the resting area.

In his mind, the system panel appeared clearly:

[Gale Sword Technique: Proficient (4123/5000)]

Only a little over eight hundred points away from Minor Accomplishment.

And the top 100 competition would be held tomorrow.

"Wang Hao, Zhang Kuanghu..." Lin Fan murmured softly, "Then come at me."

He got up and left the arena, heading towards the back mountain.

The setting sun cast his shadow long.

Behind him, countless gazes followed his retreating figure, discussing animatedly.

"Is that Lin Fan? The guy who won all four matches with a basic sword technique?"

"I heard he offended Wang Hao, so there's going to be a good show."

"Wang Hao is the young master of the Wang Family, with abundant resources. Lin Fan will probably stop at the top 100."

"Not necessarily, I think Lin Fan still has trump cards up his sleeve."

"Regardless, tomorrow's competition will definitely be exciting..."

Night deepened.

And in the small forest behind the mountain, Lin Fan had already begun a new round of training.

The sound of the wooden sword breaking through the air was exceptionally clear in the silent night.