Finals Day, the Whole Academy Watches

At dusk, the setting sun stained the sky a golden red.

But the Jiangnan Martial Arts Academy's fighting arena was even noisier now than it had been during the day.

News of the final had sprouted wings. In just half an hour, it had spread throughout the entire academy. Nearly every student from the Regular Class had come out, and even the usually aloof students from the Genius Class had turned up in droves.

The spectator seats around the arena were already full. Students who arrived later had to stand in the aisles, lean over the railings, or even climb onto nearby treetops and rooftops. The crowd roared, and the spectacle was far grander than yesterday's top hundred matches or today's semifinals.

"How many people are here?" a new student asked, clicking his tongue.

"At least three thousand!" an older student beside him said excitedly. "Almost the whole Regular Class is here, and a third of the Genius Class too! Look over there. Those people in white are from the Genius Class!"

On the east side of the arena, in the seats with the best view, six extraordinary young people sat together.

They all wore the academy uniform, white with gold trim—the exclusive attire of the Genius Class. A circle of space had opened up around them. Students from the Regular Class didn't dare approach and could only gaze at them from afar with awe.

Two of the six drew the most attention.

One was a silver-haired, blue-eyed girl, her exquisite features as if carved from ice and snow, her bearing cool and aloof. She sat quietly, her calm gaze fixed on the arena, as though all the commotion around her had nothing to do with her.

The Genius Class's number two, Lin Xue'er.

The other was a chubby boy with a carefree smile perpetually on his face, munching happily on a bag of snacks. As he ate, he chatted with the people beside him, his voice loud enough for everyone around to hear.

"Hey, who do you think will win? I'll bet a hundred Academic Credits on Wang Hao!" the chubby boy shouted.

"Zhao Ritian, can't you keep your voice down?" asked a refined-looking boy with glasses, frowning.

"What's there to be afraid of? Everyone thinks the same thing anyway." Zhao Ritian didn't care. "That Wang Hao guy may be obnoxious, but his family's loaded. You know that Golden Scale Armor of his, right? Mortal Tier Top Grade! What's Lin Fan gonna use to break through it? Headbutt it?"

"Not necessarily," a cool voice cut in.

The speaker was a boy with sharp brows and bright eyes. He held a sword in his arms, his expression indifferent. He was the Genius Class's number one, Wang Chao.

"Brother Wang Chao, you think Lin Fan can win?" Zhao Ritian asked with interest.

"I saw the sword he used against Zhang Kuanghu just now," Wang Chao said calmly. "It was fast. Very fast. If Wang Hao lets his guard down, he might lose."

"What good is speed if he can't break through the armor?" Zhao Ritian shook his head.

"Then we'll see if he can find a weakness in the armor." Wang Chao said no more and closed his eyes to rest.

Lin Xue'er hadn't said a word the entire time. Her gaze merely swept across the crowd as if she were searching for someone.

Aside from the Genius Class students, several important figures had taken seats in the front row.

Academy Vice Principal Liu Batian sat in the center, his square face giving away nothing. Beside him sat several instructors from the Regular Class, including Lin Fan's homeroom teacher, Teacher Zhang.

Teacher Zhang looked solemn, his hands unconsciously clenching. He was proud that Lin Fan had made it to the final, yet worried about the match ahead.

Wang Hao's armor was a real problem.

And an even bigger problem sat on Liu Batian's other side: a middle-aged man dressed in brocade robes.

The man was in his forties, his features bearing a strong resemblance to Wang Hao's, but his presence was far more imposing, his eyes sharp as an eagle's. Two black-clad guards with deep, powerful auras stood behind him. They were clearly experts.

Wang Zhenshan, head of the Wang Family of Jiangnan City.

Wang Hao's father had come to watch the match in person.

"It's rare to see the Wang Family Head at the academy. Have you come to watch your son's match?" Liu Batian asked calmly.

"My unworthy son is an embarrassment before you, Principal Liu." Wang Zhenshan smiled faintly, but his tone brimmed with unshakable confidence. "Still, Hao'er shouldn't disappoint me in this final."

"Oh? You're that confident?"

"In a martial artist's duel, cultivation, martial techniques, equipment, and state of mind are all essential." Wang Zhenshan spoke slowly. "Hao'er is at the peak of Second Grade, his swordsmanship was taught by a renowned master, and he has the Golden Scale Armor to protect him. As for his state of mind... he's been waiting a long time for this fight."

"That student called Lin Fan is no ordinary boy," Liu Batian reminded him.

"I know." A cold glint flickered in Wang Zhenshan's eyes. "A commoner who went from early First Grade to the First Grade Perfection in a month. His swordsmanship is strange. He's a genius. But that's exactly why he needs to be put in his place. Otherwise, geniuses can easily go astray."

His words were polite, but the meaning was clear: he intended to use Wang Hao to suppress Lin Fan.

Teacher Zhang's heart tightened. He was about to speak, but Liu Batian spoke first. "Within the academy, the match is fair. We'll know who wins once they fight."

"Of course." Wang Zhenshan's smile did not change.

As they spoke, the crowd suddenly grew restless.

"He's here! Wang Hao's here!"

Surrounded by a group of hangers-on, Wang Hao entered the arena from the east entrance. He had changed into a brand-new white martial artist's uniform, and the scabbard at his waist was trimmed with gold. His chest armor gleamed faintly, and he looked full of confidence.

He saw his father in the spectator seats, nodded, then strode onto the arena platform. He closed his eyes to rest as he waited for his opponent.

"What a spectacle," someone said sourly.

"He's got the means to pull it off. You can't help being jealous."

"Where's Lin Fan? Why isn't he here yet?"

"Did he get scared?"

As the crowd speculated, two figures slowly approached from the west entrance.

Lin Fan was in front. He still wore his faded gray cloth clothes and carried a Wooden Sword, his steps steady. Chen Dahu followed behind him, his arm wrapped in bandages.

Compared to Wang Hao's glamorous entrance, Lin Fan's side seemed pitifully shabby.

And yet, for some reason, when he stepped onto the platform, the entire arena fell silent for a moment.

His calm, his composure, stood in stark contrast to the noisy surroundings, bringing with it an inexplicable sense of pressure.

Lin Fan's gaze swept over the spectator seats. He saw Teacher Zhang's worried expression, Liu Batian's scrutinizing gaze, Wang Zhenshan's cold stare, and the few students in white from the Genius Class.

At last, his gaze settled on the arena platform.

Wang Hao had already opened his eyes and was watching him coldly.

Their gazes met, sparks seeming to fly in the air between them.

"I thought you wouldn't dare show up," Wang Hao said.

"I'll do what I promised," Lin Fan replied calmly.

"Promised? What did you promise?"

"I promised to take the championship." Lin Fan paused. "And I promised to get justice for Dahu."

Below the platform, Chen Dahu's eyes grew hot.

Wang Hao laughed, his face full of mockery. "You? With that busted Wooden Sword?"

"With this Wooden Sword." Lin Fan raised the weapon in his hand.

The Wooden Sword was rough, with several cracks in its blade. Compared with the gold-inlaid longsword at Wang Hao's waist, it was laughably shabby.

Yet it was this very Wooden Sword that had pierced through every opponent's defenses on the way here.

Including Zhang Kuanghu's shoulder.

"You know what I hate most about you?" Wang Hao suddenly asked.

"No."

"I hate that fake calm of yours!" Wang Hao's voice suddenly rose. "You're a filthy commoner from the Slum District. What gives you the right to put on airs in front of me? You think winning a few matches can change where you came from? Dream on!"

His words were vicious enough to make many of the commoner students below change expressions.

But Lin Fan's expression didn't change. "Finished?"

"You—"

"If you're finished, we can begin." Lin Fan turned to the referee. "Can we start?"

The referee was a middle-aged man. He glanced at Liu Batian below the platform, saw his nod, then called out, "The final: Lin Fan versus Wang Hao! The usual rules apply: no deliberately crippling or killing your opponent. The match ends when one side admits defeat or is no longer able to fight! Both sides, get ready!"

Wang Hao took a deep breath and drew his longsword.

The blade gleamed, its edge catching the chill of the setting sun—the Cold Iron Sword, a Mortal Tier High Grade weapon.

Combined with the Golden Scale Armor on his chest, his equipment was worth over five thousand Academic Credits, enough for an ordinary student to work for several years.

Lin Fan, meanwhile, had only a Wooden Sword and a set of cloth clothes.

The disparity in equipment was so vast it was despairing.

"Begin!"

As soon as the referee's words rang out, Wang Hao moved.

He didn't probe as he usually did. He went straight for a killing blow!

The Cold Iron Sword turned into a streak of light, stabbing straight at Lin Fan's throat!

The strike was fast, precise, and ruthless, carrying a bone-chilling killing intent. He clearly meant to end the fight quickly!

Gasps rose from the crowd.

But Lin Fan reacted even faster.

He shifted half a step sideways and angled his Wooden Sword upward, striking the spine of the Cold Iron Sword with pinpoint accuracy.

Clang!

The ring of metal on metal rang out.

Lin Fan's arm shuddered, and a deep gash appeared on the Wooden Sword. Against a Mortal Tier High Grade weapon, an ordinary wooden blade was utterly outclassed.

But he'd successfully knocked Wang Hao's sword off course.

Wang Hao's expression shifted. He changed the angle of his sword and swept it horizontally toward Lin Fan's waist.

Lin Fan retreated, lowered his Wooden Sword, and blocked once more.

Clang!

Another gash appeared in the Wooden Sword.

"You can't keep blocking me!" Wang Hao sneered. His sword stance changed again, turning into a rain of sword shadows that enveloped Lin Fan.

Flowing Light Sword Technique—the Wang Family's hereditary sword technique, renowned for its speed. Its swordlight fluttered like fireflies, dazzling the eye.

The audience below watched, unable to keep up.

"What a fast sword!"

"Wang Hao's swordsmanship is even stronger than before! He was hiding his strength!"

"Lin Fan's in danger!"

Indeed, under the fierce downpour of swordlight, Lin Fan could only keep blocking and dodging. Every time the Wooden Sword clashed with the Cold Iron Sword, another gash appeared, sending splinters flying.

At this rate, the Wooden Sword would break completely within twenty moves at most.

And once he lost his weapon, Lin Fan would be up against a fully armed Wang Hao with nothing but his bare hands. He'd have no chance of winning.

"Brother Fan..." Chen Dahu clenched his fists anxiously.

Teacher Zhang's palms were sweating in the spectator seats.

A smile tugged at Wang Zhenshan's lips.

In the Genius Class seats, Zhao Ritian shook his head. "It's over. Lin Fan's bound to lose. The gap between their weapons is too big. How's he supposed to fight?"

Wang Chao said nothing, merely watching the platform intently.

Lin Xue'er's gaze rested on Lin Fan's hand.

The hand gripping the sword was steady.

Even as the Wooden Sword was damaged, even as he was completely suppressed, that hand remained as steady as a rock.

And his footwork...

A flicker of surprise passed through Lin Xue'er's eyes.

On the platform, Wang Hao grew more excited with every exchange.

He could feel Lin Fan's resistance weakening. The Wooden Sword was riddled with cracks and could shatter at any moment.

Victory was within reach!

"It's over!" Wang Hao suddenly roared. His swordlight drew in, becoming a straight, white line—Flowing Light Sword Technique's ultimate move, Single Line Flowing Light!

This strike concentrated all of Wang Hao's strength and speed, its tip aimed straight at Lin Fan's heart!

He meant to decide the match with one strike!

Below the platform, countless people held their breath.

Chen Dahu shut his eyes, unable to watch any longer.

But at that very moment, Lin Fan moved.

He didn't block or dodge. He stepped forward into the swordlight!

At the same time, he thrust the Wooden Sword in his hand.

It was still Basic Sword Technique: Gale Stab.

But this thrust was unlike any before it.

It was fast beyond the limit!

So fast that as the Wooden Sword shot out, the air shrieked around it!

So fast that before Wang Hao's sword could hit Lin Fan, Lin Fan's Wooden Sword had already struck his chest!

More precisely, it struck the very center of the Golden Scale Armor, the thickest golden scale!

Thud!

The sound was muffled.

The Wooden Sword didn't pierce the armor—that was impossible to begin with.

But the enormous impact sent Wang Hao flying backward, crashing heavily onto the edge of the platform!

Meanwhile, his strike, Single Line Flowing Light, lost its balance and scraped past Lin Fan's shoulder, tearing only through his cloth clothes.

The entire arena fell silent.

Everyone stared blankly at the platform.

What had just happened?

Had Lin Fan used a Wooden Sword that was about to snap to... knock a fully armed Wang Hao flying?

"Th-this is impossible!" Zhao Ritian's snacks tumbled to the ground.

Wang Chao opened his eyes, a sharp gleam flashing within them.

Lin Xue'er straightened slightly in her seat.

On the platform, Wang Hao struggled to his feet, his face livid.

He looked down at his chest. The Golden Scale Armor was unharmed—not even a scratch.

But the impact of that strike had left his chest tight and his blood churning.

Without the armor, that strike would have pierced his heart.

"You..." Wang Hao stared at Lin Fan, doubt appearing in his eyes for the first time.

Lin Fan flicked the Wooden Sword in his hand.

The Wooden Sword was riddled with cracks, its tip badly worn. It looked ready to fall apart at any moment.

But the hand gripping it remained steady.

"Your armor is excellent," Lin Fan said calmly. "But no matter how good it is, it can't protect every part of you."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean," Lin Fan slowly raised the Wooden Sword, "that strike just now was only to test how sturdy your armor was."

"Now I've tested it."

"Next, I'll attack the places your armor can't protect."

Wang Hao's pupils contracted.

Below the stage, Wang Zhenshan sprang to his feet!