Mountain Collapse

"Lu Chuan, do you dare to fight me?"

At these words, many of the surrounding senior brothers wore expressions eager for a show.

Jiang Hao had been a standout since joining the Martial Arts Hall. Usually, it was other Second Qi and Blood senior brothers who fed him moves in practice; no one of the same realm had ever truly fought him.

Zhou Ming Chuan frowned, about to speak, but seeing Lu Chuan's calm profile, he swallowed his words.

Lu Chuan appeared composed on the surface.

But inwardly, he was cursing Chen Mo Bai a thousand times over.

That fat bastard, with one flippant remark about being in the same league, had landed him in this mess.

Fighting Jiang Hao meant no benefit if he won.

The guy was Old Zheng's prized disciple—any scratch or bump would be a problem.

Losing would be even uglier. With so many watching, how could he hold his head up in the Martial Arts Hall afterward?

It might even expose his trump cards.

His true Qi and Blood realm and his Major Success saber technique were things no one should know about.

But... concede on the spot?

That wasn't his style.

Just as Lu Chuan hesitated, Old Zheng spoke up.

"Jiang Hao, you have the advantage in realm. That's too unfair to him."

The realm Lu Chuan had just revealed was only First Qi and Blood Minor Success, while Jiang Hao had long reached Perfection.

Jiang Hao replied proudly, "Disciple can suppress my realm to just entering the Blood Pass. I won't rely on Qi and Blood advantage—only a contest of saber techniques."

"The moves he used to beat Wang Yun just now, I saw clearly. That was saber skill, not brute force."

At this, Old Zheng said nothing, merely looking at Lu Chuan.

Clearly, Old Zheng didn't stop it, meaning he too wanted to see exactly what level the two were at.

Then, everyone's gaze shifted over.

Lu Chuan looked at the proud Jiang Hao before him and grinned.

"Fine, I accept."

Since Jiang Hao was willing to give up his Qi and Blood advantage and duel him in saber techniques, Lu Chuan naturally wouldn't back down.

He might as well use this chance to reshape everyone's impression of his comprehension talent.

Hearing this, Jiang Hao's lips curled slightly.

He could see through Chen Mo Bai's little trick of shifting the blame.

He was proud, not stupid—he wouldn't be used as a pawn without knowing it.

But knowing was one thing; he was willing to step up.

First, he had a good relationship with Senior Brother Chen, who had always looked out for him. He owed him that face.

Second, he needed an opportunity.

Since entering the hall, everyone called him a genius, but that title couldn't just be spoken—it had to be earned.

Lu Chuan had just made a name for himself and was riding high. Stepping on him now was perfect timing.

Jiang Hao took a long saber handed over by a nearby disciple, then turned its tip toward Lu Chuan.

"You strike first."

Lu Chuan didn't stand on ceremony and drew his own long saber.

Murmurs rose again from the sidelines.

The few Outer Disciples in the front yard huddled together, their voices low but unable to suppress their excitement for the spectacle.

"How many moves do you think Lu Chuan can last?"

"How many? Senior Brother Jiang said he'd suppress his realm, but his saber technique is only one step from Major Success. That skill level is set in stone. What does Lu Chuan have to fight with?"

"True... but Lu Chuan's moves against Wang Yun just now seemed at Minor Success level too?"

"Minor Success? That depends on who you compare him to. Against Senior Brother Jiang? Not even close."

In the Backyard, several Formal Disciples were also talking quietly.

"Lu Chuan's saber technique is indeed good. I'd say he's been at Minor Success for a while—solid foundation."

"Reaching this level in four months counts as a genius."

"Too bad he's up against Junior Brother Jiang. I've heard Master Zheng say Jiang's Mountain Splitting Saber is just a thin layer away from Major Success."

"So today's match..."

"Let's watch. With his realm suppressed, Junior Brother Jiang won't have it easy, but winning shouldn't be a problem."

Lu Chuan naturally paid no heed to what others said. He gripped his blade and said calmly:

"Please."

A flash of steel.

The first strike.

Jiang Hao raised his blade to block. A sharp clang rang out as the two blades clashed and rebounded.

Jiang Hao's brow twitched slightly. The weight behind this strike was more cunning than he'd expected.

He said nothing, immediately returning a blow.

Lu Chuan sidestepped, the blade grazing past his robes. He flipped his wrist and swept upward, aiming straight for Jiang Hao's ribs.

Jiang Hao retreated a step, pressing his blade down to parry.

Second strike, third strike, fourth strike...

Blades wove and clashed, the ring of metal so dense it left no gap between sounds.

The sidelines gradually fell silent. Those who'd been debating "how many moves to win" now clamped their mouths shut.

No one had expected that this kid Lu Chuan could actually match Jiang Hao blow for blow.

Many senior brothers fumed inwardly:

"These two are practically monsters. Four months since Initiation and they've reached this level—how are we old disciples supposed to keep living..."

Ten moves, twenty moves, thirty moves...

Jiang Hao's expression began to shift.

He'd thought he had this well in hand.

Every time he sent a strike forward, he expected Lu Chuan across from him to be overwhelmed on defense, then expose an opening.

But this man opposite him...

Caught every single blow.

Not just caught—after every blow, he struck back.

And his counters grew heavier with each exchange.

Sweat beaded on Jiang Hao's temples. He stared fixedly at Lu Chuan's hand gripping the blade, tracking the trajectory of every descending edge.

He remembered these past four months—practicing blade work day and night, Senior Brother Chen sparring with him, Master Zheng personally instructing him, downing over a hundred Qi and Blood Pills, eating tonics like meals.

He'd thought he was in a league of his own among ordinary disciples.

But this Lu Chuan opposite him...

This poor wretch who trained martial arts every morning and went hunting up the mountain every afternoon.

He didn't have Senior Brother Chen feeding him moves hand by hand, let alone a hundred Qi and Blood Pills.

Yet his blade skill was no worse than Jiang Hao's!

Jiang Hao's breathing grew ragged.

Those seamless transitions that had flowed like clouds and water now stuttered with pauses.

And Lu Chuan across from him—his gaze remained utterly calm.

Seventy moves.

Eighty moves.

Ninety moves.

The sidelines were dead silent.

The Outer Disciples had long lost their voices.

They stared wide-eyed at the two intertwining figures in the arena, watching Lu Chuan's blade momentum gradually suppress Jiang Hao...

Even Su Tang noticed this obscure Outer Disciple for the first time.

After all, why would someone as proud as her voluntarily strike up a conversation with Jiang Hao?

Wasn't it because her family had ordered her to recruit talent?

But now, she hadn't expected Lu Chuan to actually fight Jiang Hao to this extent.

One hundred moves.

Jiang Hao's blade momentum was in complete disarray.

He gritted his molars so hard they ached, his tiger's mouth numbed from the shock, the fingers gripping his blade beginning to tremble uncontrollably.

Since he'd started martial training, he'd never been beaten down like this.

The gazes around him began to change.

The surprise gradually surfacing in those eyes was...

"Junior Brother Jiang seems... about to lose?"

Jiang Hao also noticed that look, and a surge of anger erupted in his eyes.

On the next strike, he no longer suppressed his cultivation level.

"You piece of trash, lose to me!"

The blood qi in his dantian roared as it poured into the blade. The saber split the air, carrying force far beyond what one fresh into Blood Pass should possess, and slashed viciously toward Lu Chuan!

A cold glint flashed in Lu Chuan's eyes.

He had originally thought he'd just maintain this edge of one move ahead, but this guy couldn't take it and now wanted to cheat?

Lu Chuan held nothing back either. The blood qi in his body burst forth like a river breaching its banks, madly surging into both arms before finally condensing at the blade's edge.

Mountain Collapse!

The next moment, a thunderous clang of metal striking metal rang out!

Jiang Hao's tiger's-mouth went numb, his entire arm feeling as if it had been smashed by an iron hammer.

His long saber flew from his grip, spinning off at an angle.

The arena fell into dead silence.

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