The ninth match.
By now, Qin Jue's opponent had changed to a seasoned fighter at the peak of the Hundred Refinements Fifth Layer: a sinister old man wielding a pair of hooks.
The old man was battle-hardened, every move lethal. His twin hooks were like a venomous snake's fangs, aimed specifically at the lower body. His footwork was exceptionally slippery, putting a little pressure on the movement technique Qin Jue had always prided himself on—for the first time.
Qin Jue furrowed his brow.
His previous opponents had been riddled with openings under the scrutiny of his Mind Mirror. But the old man kept his aura contained, and his movements had virtually no wasted effort. Clearly, his instincts had been honed through countless life-or-death battles.
"Now this is getting interesting."
Qin Jue wasn't nervous at all. Instead, a spark of excitement rose within him. He took a deep breath and drove Floating Light, the first form of Startling Swan Flash, to its limit. His figure drifted unpredictably as he tangled with the old man.
"Clang, clang, clang!"
Sparks flew across the arena, and the crisp clash of metal rang out without pause.
The old man's twin hooks were strange and viciously tricky; several times, they barely grazed the hem of Qin Jue's clothes. Qin Jue's swordsmanship, meanwhile, stood firm as a mountain. His Tidal Stance held an impregnable defense, deflecting every sinister attack.
The spectators below held their breath. The intensity of this fight far surpassed any of the previous matches!
"That old geezer is Ghost Hand Liu Qi! His Soul Chasing Hooks have crippled who knows how many people. How is this kid managing to hold his own against him?"
"And there's more! Look, the kid's been circling him this whole time. He's looking for an opening! Waiting for Liu Qi to slip up!"
After nearly a hundred exchanges, the old man's relentless attacks still hadn't broken through. His breathing began to grow ragged, and at last, a slight pause crept into one of his strikes.
Now!
Qin Jue's eyes shifted as he seized the fleeting opportunity.
Cicada Wing Thousand Layers — Thousand Threads!
The sword gave a sharp hum, and layer upon layer of nearly invisible Sword Qi appeared along its edge.
The old man's expression changed dramatically. The instant his twin hooks crossed blades with Qin Jue's sword, countless fine cracks spread across the hooks—the marks left by a thousand strands of Sword Qi slicing through them at once!
That strange cutting force traveled through the hooks, numbing both his arms. Startled, the old man sprang back several paces, putting distance between himself and Qin Jue.
He lowered his eyes to the twin hooks in his hands, his pupils suddenly contracting.
The hooks were covered in countless tiny cracks, interwoven across their surfaces. The pair of forged-iron hooks that had been with him for more than twenty years had been reduced to this after a single exchange!
"W-what kind of sword art is this?" the old man murmured. He lightly touched one of the hooks with his finger. With a crisp crack, a small piece of iron fell away.
He looked up at Qin Jue, whose expression remained calm, and gave a wry smile as he shook his head. "I concede. If these hooks take another one of your strikes, they'll probably shatter into scrap on the spot."
With that, he put away the hooks, clasped his hands in salute, and left the arena.
"Thank you for the match." Qin Jue sheathed his sword, his breathing slightly uneven.
This was the longest fight he had fought since stepping onto the arena, and the one that had taken the most out of him.
Though he had tried to end each of these nine matches at the lowest possible cost, using Myriad Forms Style together with Startling Swan Flash had still consumed more blood and energy than expected. A faint ache had even begun to throb between his brows.
Even so, his eyes shone brighter and brighter.
The nonstop fighting had left his body in a state of exhilaration, and even his blood and energy had grown a little more refined.
Actual combat really was the best cultivation.
"Ghost Face! Ghost Face! Ghost Face!"
The crowd's mood had turned from shock to frenzy.
In a world where the strong ruled, nothing set people's blood ablaze more than watching a dark horse rise. Those who had mocked Qin Jue before were now shouting louder than anyone.
"A newcomer! A new fighter at the Hundred Refinements Fourth Layer! He's come in and won nine straight!"
"Too strong... His swordsmanship is incredible! Every strike goes straight for a vital point, without a wasted motion."
"I'm betting everything on Ghost Face! I'm putting up my coffin money!"
In a corner of the crowd, Tang Xiaoman watched Qin Jue on the arena, grinning from ear to ear.
"Tsk, tsk. Brother Qin's swordsmanship is even better than it was at Silver Moon Bay." Tang Xiaoman was secretly delighted. "Especially that move that makes the sword vibrate. It's downright underhanded... I mean, exquisite!"
The crowd had gone completely wild. Some were even shouting for a tenth match.
"Manager! Where's the manager? Hurry up and find out who this Ghost Face is!"
In the back room, several managers responsible for the training ground's betting operation crowded around a thick ledger, their expressions grave. Ghost Face's odds had already dropped from five to one to 0.1 to one, and they were still falling.
"We can't let him keep winning!" one goateed manager said gravely. "If he wins again, we'll be bankrupted today! We need someone who can control the arena and put an end to his winning streak!"
Another manager pointed to a different name in the ledger, his gaze vicious. "Send him out! I refuse to believe a kid at the Hundred Refinements Fourth Layer can turn the whole place upside down!"
On the arena, the referee took a deep breath and shouted:
"Nine straight wins! Ghost Face has now racked up nine consecutive victories!"
"Next comes the challenge that will decide whether he can work a miracle—the ten-win challenge!"
The crowd's feverish excitement reached its peak.
The referee swept his gaze across the spectators, then fixed it on a figure slowly emerging from the crowd and roared out the name:
"Ghost Face's opponent is the fighter who went undefeated in fifteen matches at the Hundred Battles Martial Training Ground—Mad Wolf, Wei Jun!"
At those words, the boisterous training ground fell silent for a moment, then erupted in a roar even more thunderous than before.
"Holy crap! Mad Wolf?! The house can't take losing, huh!"
"A Hundred Refinements Sixth Layer against a Fourth Layer? That's a two-level gap! How's he supposed to fight that?"
"It's over, it's over. Ghost Face is done for this time. Wei Jun's notorious for being a nightmare to deal with."
"The house wants to make an example of him! What a shame—such a talented swordsman."
The crowd buzzed with discussion. Quite a few people who had been about to bet on Qin Jue again quietly took their Gold Notes back. Qin Jue had certainly been impressive, but against an overwhelming gap in cultivation, no one believed he stood a chance.
The Hundred Refinements Sixth Layer was the realm of Muscle and Bone Unity. Strength and speed both underwent a qualitative leap, making it incomparable to the ragtag fighters he'd faced earlier.
Standing outside the crowd, Tang Xiaoman watched Qin Jue on the arena, his heart torn between worry and anticipation.
He knew Qin Jue was strong, but Wei Jun was no pushover either.
Tang Xiaoman had experienced the power of that punch firsthand.
Hearing the name, Qin Jue raised an eyebrow slightly and turned to look toward the other side of the arena.
Wei Jun was walking up slowly. He didn't look at the spectators or the referee. His emotionless eyes were fixed directly on Qin Jue, like a lone wolf that had spotted its prey.
"We meet again."
Wei Jun stopped three zhang in front of Qin Jue, his voice even. "That kid who used his legs earlier was your friend? His legwork was decent, but he was too green. As for you..."
Wei Jun looked Qin Jue up and down, his gaze settling on the Cold Iron Sword in Qin Jue's hand.
"Your swordsmanship is good, but you've already fought nine matches. Don't you need a rest?"
Qin Jue shook his head and replied coolly, "No."
Wei Jun nodded, a trace of admiration appearing on his face.
"Good. Then forgive me for what's coming."
Before you continue