The next morning, as the first rays of sunlight pierced through the thin mist, a light veil of fog enveloped the scene.
After having breakfast, Fang Han left the Royal Annex with Luo Yuntian, Liu Bai, and others.
Today is the second round of the Martial Arts Tournament. There are half as many participants as yesterday, but the tense atmosphere in the air is even stronger.
"Junior Brother Luo, are you confident today?"
Fang Han asked Luo Yuntian.
Of the remaining seven people from Qingyang Prefecture, Luo Yuntian is the weakest and has the highest chance of losing.
"Do your best. Even if you lose, it's alright. Getting two Low-Grade Heavenly Treasure as a reward is already worth the trip."
Luo Yuntian smiled and said with a very open mind.
The group walked along the wide streets of the Imperial Capital towards the Martial Arts Tournament Martial Arts Tournament venue. After passing through identity verification, they entered the venue.
Fang Han stopped and addressed the group.
"I wish you all success in the second round."
"The same to you."
Liu Bai cupped his hands in greeting and turned to walk towards the number sixteen Combat Platform.
Mad Blade, carrying his giant sword, swaggered towards Combat Platform number fourteen.
Wuxiang clasped his hands together and walked towards his Combat Platform.
Fang Han watched the group disperse before turning around and walking towards the number ten Combat Platform.
Near the number ten Combat Platform, more than ten people had gathered, all of whom were contestants who had advanced yesterday.
When Fang Han's figure appeared at the end of the passage, more than a dozen pairs of eyes immediately fell on him.
That look was different from yesterday's.
Yesterday's assessment was scrutiny, a close examination, and even a somewhat dismissive evaluation.
Today, however, there was a greater sense of solemnity and apprehension.
Those gazes lingered on Fang Han for a moment, then quickly looked away as if burned, but couldn't help but steal a glance back, their eyes full of apprehension.
Fang Han remained expressionless, found a relatively inconspicuous spot to stand, and put his hands behind his back.
His gaze swept calmly across the crowd, yet he keenly noticed that several people subconsciously took a half-step back, avoiding him.
"Please, please don't let me run into him..."
A young man with a slightly immature face, standing at the edge of the crowd, lowered his voice and spoke to someone he knew beside him.
Upon hearing this, his companion gave a wry smile and whispered in return:
"Who doesn't think so? Everyone saw that sword strike yesterday. Ling Yue of Golden Mausoleum Prefecture lost without even drawing his sword."
"Defeated with a single sword strike!"
Someone nearby chimed in, their voice tinged with a hint of wistfulness.
" Golden Mausoleum Prefecture, as Central Thirty-Six Prefectures, is generally stronger than ordinary prefectures. Ling Yue's cultivation is already close to the Second Grade, which is definitely not weak among us, yet..."
He didn't finish his sentence, but the meaning was already clear.
Fang Han overheard their hushed conversation, but remained outwardly calm.
However, not everyone was afraid of him.
A few others, their gazes sweeping over Fang Han, carried a fighting spirit that seemed eager to test their skills against him and prove that they were no less formidable.
These individuals were all perceived to possess Second Grade cultivation.
A moment later, a slight commotion was heard at the entrance of the venue.
Fang Han looked up and saw a white figure walking calmly towards him.
Zhen Feixuan was still dressed in a white outfit, with the cuffs tightly bound, and her long black hair was tied back with a plain silver ring, with a few strands of hair fluttering in the wind.
She walked slowly, but her steps carried a steady rhythm, as if each step was on some invisible beat.
When she stepped into the area of Combat Platform number ten, almost everyone's eyes fell on her.
The apprehension in his eyes was even stronger than when he looked at Fang Han.
" Zhen Feixuan is here..."
Someone spoke in a low voice, their tone filled with barely suppressed tension.
"In yesterday's battle, the person opposite me also couldn't even withstand a single move, and I heard that she is already First Grade martial artist."
" First Grade warrior..."
The other person swallowed, his voice slightly hoarse.
"Really? She's already First Grade martial artist?"
"Please, please don't run into her, please don't run into her..."
Someone muttered softly, their tone carrying a hint of pleading.
Zhen Feixuan was already used to such gazes, her expression remained unchanged, and she calmly walked to a relatively open space and stood still.
Her gaze swept over everyone present, and then she made no further moves.
Fang Han withdrew his gaze, his heart unmoved, for he had long known that Zhen Feixuan was First Grade martial artist.
'This person...?'
As the contestants gradually arrived, Fang Han's gaze suddenly paused slightly.
Among the crowd was a face he hadn't seen yesterday.
He was a young man dressed in a gray, close-fitting outfit. He had a cold and stern face, a tall and slender figure, arms crossed, and eyes as sharp as an eagle's.
He stood at the back of the crowd, scrutinizing everyone present with a look of scrutiny in his eyes.
"Not one of the participants from yesterday's battle on Combat Platform number ten."
Fang Han stirred slightly.
A total of 25 players advanced to the second round yesterday at Combat Platform number 10, an odd number.
The number of players advancing is odd, meaning they cannot compete in pairs. This person must have been transferred from another Combat Platform to make up an even number.
Not long after, the white-haired old man from yesterday strode over, followed by the same four middle-aged men and women.
The murmurs in the hall subsided at that moment, and all eyes fell on the white-haired old man.
The white-haired old man walked to the Combat Platform, his gaze slowly sweeping over the crowd present, and spoke:
"The rules for the second round are the same as the first round: the winner advances, and the loser is eliminated."
He paused, his voice calm yet carrying an undeniable authority.
"Intentional killing, the use of poison, and the use of concealed weapons are strictly prohibited; violators will be severely punished."
He took out a scroll from his sleeve, unfolded it, scanned it with his eyes, and then read aloud:
"The first match is between Fang Han from Qingyang Prefecture and Shen Qiu from Heavenly Water Prefecture."
Among the crowd, a young man in a dark blue robe suddenly looked rather grim.
His lips moved as if he wanted to say something, but in the end he didn't speak. He just took a deep breath and gripped the hilt of the long sword at his waist.
"Brother Shen, hold on."
A person next to him lowered their voice and patted his shoulder, but there was a hint of schadenfreude in that comforting tone.
Shen Qiu gave a wry smile, said nothing, and strode towards the Combat Platform.
Fang Han also stepped out, his steps composed.
He leaped onto the Combat Platform, stood there, and looked at Shen Qiu.
Shen Qiu also went up onto the stage and stood facing Fang Han, who was ten feet away.
He looked at Fang Han with apprehension in his eyes, but showed no sign of backing down.
The white-haired old man glanced at the two, stepped back to the edge of the Combat Platform, and said calmly, "Begin."
Fang Han slowly drew the Cloudsplitter Sword from his waist.
Shen Qiu also drew his sword; the blade gleamed coldly in the morning light, clearly a fine weapon.
"Whoosh--!"
Unlike yesterday, when the battle was decided in a single sword strike, Fang Han first tentatively extended his sword.
The sword light was not sharp; it was just a simple, unhurried thrust.
"Clang--"
Shen Qiu parried with his sword, and the two swords clashed, producing a crisp metallic clang.
"Whoosh--!"
Fang Han swiftly unleashed his second sword strike.
Although this sword strike was still not executed at full power, its Sword Intent was even faster than before.
Shen Qiu blocked the second sword, but he was already struggling, and his hand holding the sword trembled slightly.
The third sword strike.
The fourth sword strike.
The fifth sword strike.
Fang Han's sword strikes were each more powerful than the last, ensuring that Shen Qiu wouldn't suffer a humiliating defeat, nor that the battle dragged on for too long.
By the sixth sword strike, his sword technique had become quite powerful; with a flash of light, the sword was already three inches in front of Shen Qiu's throat.
Shen Qiu's movements suddenly stopped, and he froze on the spot.
He glanced down at the sword tip pressed against his throat, then looked up at Fang Han, a complex emotion flashing in his eyes.
He sheathed his sword and bowed, saying:
"Thank you for your mercy, Brother Fang."
Fang Han clearly held back; otherwise, his fate would likely have been the same as Ling Yue's yesterday—defeated with a single sword strike and " Fang Han.
Fang Han sheathed his sword and nodded slightly.
"Thank you for the concession."
He turned and walked off the Combat Platform.
"Would you like to stay and watch?"
After stepping off the stage, Fang Han glanced in the direction where Zhen Feixuan was.
He wanted to go to other Combat Platform to watch the matches of other players from Qingyang Prefecture, but he also wanted to see Zhen Feixuan's match.
"You can't tell anything from just the second round."
Fang Han weighed the options in his mind.
With Zhen Feixuan's cultivation level First Grade martial artist, the second round of battle was far from enough to force out Zhen Feixuan true strength, and it was impossible to discern anything from her.
Instead of staying here to watch Zhen Feixuan win easily, we should go and check on the battle situation of the others in Qingyang Prefecture.
Having made up his mind, Fang Han turned around and walked towards the number twelve Combat Platform.
A large number of participants had gathered around Combat Platform number twelve.
Fang Han's gaze swept across the stage, but he did not see Luo Yuntian.
"It's not Junior Brother Luo's turn yet?"
Fang Han's eyes searched through the crowd and spotted Luo Yuntian.
After a slight hesitation, he decided to check out the other Combat Platform first.
He went to platform number fourteen first, where the battle with Mad Blade had not yet begun.
Without lingering, he turned towards station number sixteen.
On Combat Platform number sixteen, Liu Bai is fighting against an opponent.
Liu Bai's Sword Technique is graceful and agile, each strike like flowing moonlight, carrying a calm and unhurried elegance.
In a short while, his opponent was struck on the shoulder by a sword, a small red mark appeared on his shoulder, and he staggered back, bowing in surrender.
Liu Bai sheathed his sword and stepped down from the Combat Platform. Upon seeing Fang Han, he cupped his hands in greeting and said:
"Brother Fang, are you done on your end?"
"Well, it's over, so I came to see your match."
Fang Han nodded and asked.
"Shall we go see the other people?"
"Good."
Liu Bai had the same idea, so the two walked side by side toward the other Combat Platform.
When we arrived near Battlefield No. 12, we could see the scene on the platform from afar.
Luo Yuntian was standing on the stage, opposite a young man dressed in black.
The man had a cold and stern face, a sneer at the corner of his mouth, and held a long sword in his hand. His gaze was fixed on Luo Yuntian, filled with undisguised contempt.
Fang Han and Liu Bai exchanged a glance, quickened their pace, and squeezed into the crowd.
Just then, the middle-aged woman acting as referee spoke:
"Start."
Luo Yuntian drew his sword and launched the first attack.
The sword light flashed like a rainbow, carrying a fierce momentum as it thrust straight at the opponent.
The man in black merely swayed slightly, shifting his body to easily dodge the sword strike.
The long sword in his hand shot out like a snake's tongue, aiming straight for Luo Yuntian's ribs.
Luo Yuntian parried with his sword, and the two swords clashed, producing a deafening metallic clang.
An extremely powerful shockwave erupted from the center of the collision.
Luo Yuntian's hand gripping the sword went numb, and his feet involuntarily slid back several steps.
In contrast, the man in black stood still and did not move an inch.
" Second Grade!"
Someone in the audience gasped in surprise.
Fang Han's gaze also fell on the man in black, and his brows furrowed slightly.
The opponent did not conceal their strength; their aura was indeed that of Second Grade, and most likely, Second Grade Mid-Stage.
Luo Yuntian was only at the Third Grade Middle Stage, and there was a huge gap between him and his opponent.