On the lonely Martial Practice Platform, the two Prodigies stood facing each other.
Zhongshan Weisun was refined and scholarly in bearing, while Yan Shaofei stood tall and confident.
One stood at ease with his hands behind his back; the other rested a hand on his sword, poised and assured.
Truth be told, even amid the gathered Prodigies at River Viewing Terrace, neither was mediocre.
It was just that Dou Zhao's Seven Styles of Battle shone too brightly, and Chongxuan Zun's flowing white robes were too dashing.
They had overshadowed all the other Prodigies, making the rest seem dim by comparison.
But now that they had come to this grand gathering of the nations' Prodigies, who would willingly play second fiddle?
They had already made it to the final four. Who wouldn't want to claim the crown?
From the very beginning, they had come to River Viewing Terrace aiming to become the greatest under heaven!
No matter how dazzling Dou Zhao and Chongxuan Zun were, they couldn't make them lose confidence.
No matter how little the world expected of them, at least they would always believe in themselves.
Just think of the strict upbringing Zhongshan Weisun had received from childhood, the effort he had poured in along the way, and the resources that had been piled behind him.
And what about Yan Shaofei? To represent Wei State at the Yellow River Assembly as a wandering swordsman, then advance to the final four—had he worked any less than anyone else? Was his talent inferior to anyone's?
Every person who stood on the Martial Practice Platform had a reason they had to win.
That was why they had crossed mountains and rivers and hacked their way through brambles, so they could meet here, at this very moment.
Looking at his opponent for this