The referee arrived shortly afterward.
It was still that white-haired old man. He walked to the Combat Platform, his gaze slowly sweeping over the crowd, and he spoke:
"In the third round, the Combat Platform has been reduced from twenty to ten. The rules for today's competition are the same as the previous two days: the winners advance, and the losers are eliminated."
He took a scroll from his sleeve, unfolded it, and read out two names:
"The first match is between Bai Yan from Heavenly Origin Prefecture and Meng Han from Golden Scale Prefecture."
From the crowd, a figure in moon-white robes stepped forward in response; it was Bai Yan.
He walked calmly and unhurriedly onto the Combat Platform.
Opposite them, a young man dressed in Dark Gold outfit strode onto the stage.
The man was burly and rugged-looking, wielding a heavy black iron sword whose blade gleamed with a cold, eerie light in the morning sun.
The white-haired old man stepped back to the edge of the Combat Platform, his voice calm. "Begin."
As soon as he finished speaking, Meng Han made the first move.
The heavy iron sword, accompanied by a whistling Break the Wind, slashed straight at Bai Yan. The force of the sword was immense, and the wind from the sword scattered the dust on the platform.
Bai Yan did not dodge, nor did he even draw his sword.
He simply raised his right hand, his index and middle fingers together, and just as the greatsword was about to strike, he lightly flicked the side of its broad blade.
"Bite--"
A clear, melodious sound, like that of a jade chime, echoed through the hall.
Meng Han felt an extremely concentrated force emanating from the sword, which instantly made his entire right arm feel numb and tingly.
The heavy iron sword flew out of his hand and crashed with a loud thud onto a platform three zhang away.
He looked down at his empty right hand, then looked up at Bai Yan with an expression of disbelief on his face.
Bai Yan had stopped, standing with his hands behind his back, his expression calm, as if he had just done something insignificant.
" Bai Yan of the Heavenly Origin Sect wins."
The white-haired old man's calm voice rang out.
A murmur of surprise rippled through the audience.
" Second Grade... Second Grade Late Stage!"
Someone spoke in a hoarse voice, filled with barely suppressed horror.
"He flicked Meng Han's heavy sword away with a single finger; that's some skill..."
" Heavenly Origin Sect truly lives up to its reputation as Overlord-Level Faction; the disciples it cultivates are indeed formidable."
All eyes fell on Bai Yan, and those gazes that were originally scrutinizing him were now filled with deep apprehension.
Bai Yan stepped down from the Combat Platform, returned to the edge of the crowd, and stood with his hands behind his back, as if the surrounding discussions had nothing to do with him.
"He didn't even use his signature Sword Technique!"
Fang Han's gaze fell on Bai Yan, and his heart skipped a beat.
The fact that Bai Yan defeated his opponent without even using his most proficient Sword Technique demonstrates just how profound his martial arts skills are.
In addition, his cultivation level was comparable to his, at the Second Grade Late Stage.
Bai Yan is definitely a formidable opponent.
"Next match: Fang Han from Qingyang Prefecture versus Zhao Zheng from Desert North Prefecture."
The voice of the white-haired old man rang out, pulling Fang Han's thoughts back to reality.
He withdrew his gaze and strode towards the Combat Platform.
Opposite them, a young man dressed in a gray outfit and with a lean and wiry build also came up on stage.
The man held a long, narrow, curved knife with a blade that gleamed with a cold, eerie light.
The white-haired old man retreated to the edge:
"Start."
Zhao Zheng struck first, his curved blade transforming into a silver streak, whistling as it slashed towards Fang Han's neck.
The blade flashed fiercely, revealing the wearer's seasoned skill.
The contestants watching from around the arena held their breath, feeling that the slash was as fast as lightning; they probably wouldn't even have time to react if it were them.
Fang Han's expression remained unchanged. He slightly turned his body and thrust out the Cloudsplitter Sword diagonally.
"Bite--"
A crisp metallic clang rang out on the stage as the sword tip precisely struck the side of the blade, gently deflecting the attack.
Zhao Zheng felt a slight numbness in his arm and was secretly alarmed.
With a flick of his wrist, the curved blade changed its attack, sweeping horizontally towards Fang Han's waist and abdomen.
A continuous burst of sword intent erupted.
He was clearly a master swordsman who had grasped the Artistic Conception of swordsmanship.
Instead of retreating, Fang Han advanced, shifting his feet and slipping into the gap in Zhao Zheng's sword intent like a fish.
The Cloudsplitter Sword moved with his body, its light flowing like mercury onto the ground, tracing upwards along the back of the curved blade, its tip aimed directly at Zhao Zheng's wrist as he gripped the sword.
This sword strike appeared casual, but in reality, the timing and angle were perfectly timed, striking precisely at the moment when Zhao Zheng's old strength was exhausted and his new strength had not yet arisen.
Zhao Zheng's pupils contracted, and he had no choice but to forcibly sheathe his sword and take half a step back, barely avoiding the sharpness of the sword.
Some sharp-eyed contestants in the audience were already whispering among themselves:
"Even Zhao Zheng, who has mastered the essence of the sword, was forced to retreat? Fang Han is indeed terrifying!"
Zhao Zheng steadied himself, his expression turning serious.
He took a deep breath and pushed his internal Internal Qi to its limit, causing a faint blue light to emanate from his scimitar.
He roared and brought his curved blade down with tremendous force.
Before the blade even arrived, the sharp wind from it had already left a faint white mark on the arena.
This strike embodied all his cultivation; it was his most powerful strike to date.
Fang Han showed no intention of backing down.
He simply raised his hand and drew his sword.
The Cloudsplitter Sword emitted a clear, resonant cry like a dragon's roar, and its sword light flashed, so fast that it almost exceeded the limits of what the naked eye could perceive.
No one saw how the sword was thrust out; they only saw a dazzling cyan-gold light flash across the void.
Immediately afterwards, with a loud "clang," the curved blade in Zhao Zheng's hand flew out, tumbled several times in the air, and landed on the Combat Platform with a clatter, vibrating.
Zhao Zheng himself was struck as if by a heavy blow, staggering back several steps before barely managing to regain his footing.
The tip of Fang Han Cloudsplitter Sword was already hovering steadily an inch in front of his brow, and the chill flowing from the blade made a fine layer of cold sweat seep from his forehead.
The entire arena fell silent.
Zhao Zheng stood frozen in place, his Adam's apple bobbing up and down, before finally letting his hands fall limply to his sides.
He knew that if the other party had intended to harm him, this sword would have already pierced his head.
In just three moves, he lost his weapon and his defeat was inevitable.
The gap in strength was so vast that he couldn't even muster a trace of resentment.
Fang Han sheathed his sword, the clear, resonant sword cry still echoed in the wind the moment the Cloudsplitter Sword returned to its place.
He glanced at Zhao Zheng and said calmly:
"Thank you for your concession."
"Thank you for showing mercy."
Zhao Zheng picked up the knife that had fallen to the ground and bowed.
"Now it's the third round, and Fang Han has once again defeated his opponent in just a few moves!"
" Fang Han's strength is indeed terrifying!"
A low murmur arose from the audience.
The few people present all had solemn expressions in their eyes.
After stepping down from the Combat Platform, Fang Han and Luo Yuntian met up. Without lingering, they headed towards the Combat Platform where Liu Bai and Mad Blade were fighting.
On Combat Platform number sixteen, the battle has ended.
Liu Bai robe was stained with a few drops of blood, and the seven-colored gemstone longsword in his hand hung low, its tip pointing to the ground.
Opposite him, a young man dressed in purple presented a cupped-fist salute and said, "You flatter me."
Liu Bai remained silent for a moment, then sheathed his sword, cupped his hands, and said, "I have lost."
He turned and walked down, his expression calm and unreadable.
But Fang Han could sense a trace of resentment from his slightly tightened fingers.
"Brother Liu, how are your injuries?"
Fang Han stepped forward to greet him.
Liu Bai shook his head and said in a steady voice:
"It's a minor injury, nothing to worry about."
The three who had reunited did not stop, and headed towards the Combat Platform where Mad Blade was.
On the Combat Platform, Mad Blade is fighting against a man dressed in black.
The giant sword danced in his hands, each strike carrying the force to Mountain-Splitting Stone-Cracking, causing the table to tremble slightly.
But the Body Movement in black moved with extreme unpredictability, weaving through the flashing blades like a ghost, dodging the attacks of the Mad Blade at the last second.
"Clang--"
With a dull clang of metal against metal, the black-clad man cleaved Mad Blade's massive blade in two with a single sword strike, leaving it wide open.
Taking advantage of the opportunity, the man in black thrust his longsword forward and pressed it against the Mad Blade's chest.
Mad Blade lowered his head, looking at the sword tip pressed against his chest, and said.
"I lost."
He grinned, a smile that carried a hint of nonchalance.
Turning around and walking off the stage, he saw Fang Han and Liu Bai, and grinned:
"As expected, I failed to pass the third round."
He seemed completely unconcerned.
When Fang Han and the others walked out of the venue, the sun was shining brightly.
Fang Han glanced back at the magnificent circular building, then looked away and gazed into the distance.
Of the ten people on the Qingyang Prefecture Prodigy Ranking, only he remained after three rounds.
Although it is unpleasant to admit, it must be acknowledged that Qingyang Prefecture is indeed quite different from the Central Thirty-Six Prefectures.
On the morning of the fourth day, the first rays of dawn broke through the darkness.
Fang Han and Luo Yuntian walked into the Martial Arts Tournament venue together.
There are far fewer participants today than yesterday.
The ten Combat Platform have been reduced to five, and those who can stand here are all the elite of the elite.
The participants around Combat Platform number ten had indeed changed again, with many unfamiliar participants appearing, indicating that Combat Platform number ten had been merged with the other Combat Platform once more.
Fang Han's gaze swept across the crowd, then suddenly paused slightly.
In the crowd, a figure dressed in black stood with his hands behind his back.
With a cold and stern face and a faint, sneer at the corner of his mouth, it was Jiang Ying, who had defeated Luo Yuntian and insulted him the day before.
Jiang Ying had clearly noticed Fang Han and Luo Yuntian Luo Yuntian well. Her cold eyes fell on Fang Han, and then an undisguised provocation surfaced in them.
He strode towards Fang Han, stopping a few steps away, his voice tinged with a hint of mockery:
"Wow, not bad luck, they actually made it to the fourth round."
Fang Han did not answer, but simply looked calmly at Jiang Ying.
Jiang Ying seemed unfazed by his coldness and continued, "Don't run into me, or your good luck will end here."
"I will show you just how vast the gap truly is between the geniuses from ordinary counties and those from the Central Thirty-Six Prefectures."
As soon as he finished speaking, a slight smile appeared on his lips, and he turned and walked towards the crowd.
Fang Han stood still, his expression calm, revealing neither joy nor anger.
Many contestants witnessed this scene and wore strange expressions.
Someone lowered their voice and said to their companion:
"Since the first day, someone has dared to provoke Fang Han again."
The companion also lowered his voice, sounding somewhat puzzled:
"Is this person truly skilled, or is he unaware of Fang Han's abilities?"
Who knows?
The man shook his head.
"Either they're stupid, or... they're really capable?"