The leader, the red-robed old man, took out a scroll from his sleeve and unfolded it. He glanced over it and read out two names:
"The first game, Dragon Prosperity Prefecture Qin Yuan, versus, Desert North Prefecture Tie Xiong."
In the crowd, the figure of Qin Yuan Dark Gold walked out in response.
He walked calmly, and every step fell with a calm rhythm like a mountain, as if what he was stepping on was not Combat Platform, but the path in his own backyard.
Opposite him, a burly figure strode onto the stage.
He was an extremely strong man with dark skin and bulging muscles, carrying a huge knife like a door panel on his shoulder.
Every time he took a step, the table made a dull tremor.
The old man in red robe glanced at the two of them, then retreated to the edge of the high platform, speaking in a calm voice:
"Start."
The moment the words fell - Tie Xiong was the first to move.
He took one step forward, and the platform beneath his feet shook violently. The giant knife, with a scream that tore through the air, struck Qin Yuan's head with the force of tearing mountains and rocks.
Saber Aura hasn't fallen yet, the sharp wind of the knife has already scraped a shallow white mark on the ground.
This is a stone that even a grandmaster cannot damage. The fact that it can leave white marks on it is enough to show how terrifying its strength is.
Qin Yuan didn't dodge or even draw his sword.
He just raised his right hand, put his index and middle fingers together, and flicked the side of the huge door-panel-like blade.
"Ding--"
A sound as clear and crisp as jade chimes striking each other echoed throughout the venue.
The sound was not loud, but it penetrated the roar of Saber Aura and reached everyone's ears clearly.
Tie Xiong felt an extremely concentrated force coming from the blade, causing his entire right arm to tingle instantly.
The giant knife flew out of his hand, rolled several times in the air, and hit the table three feet away with a clang, and the blade hummed and trembled.
Tie Xiong lowered his head and looked at his empty right hand, then looked up at Qin Yuan, his dark face full of disbelief.
Qin Yuan has stopped his hands and stood with his hands behind his back, his expression calm, as if he just brushed away a fallen leaf that fell on his shoulder.
"Dragon Prosperity Prefecture Qin Yuan, win."
The voice of the red-robed old man sounded calmly, breaking the dead silence in the audience.
Loud discussions also erupted in the audience.
Qin Yuan turned around, walked down Combat Platform unhurriedly, and returned to the edge of the crowd to stand still.
Looking forward calmly, the battle just now didn't even warm him up.
Fang Han's eyes stayed on Qin Yuan for a moment, and his heart was slightly shuddering.
Defeating an opponent with one finger, and it was obviously a very random blow, this strength is simply unfathomable.
The next few battles were each quite fierce.
Those who can reach this point, the weakest, have combat power comparable to Mid First Grade warriors, and can easily defeat ordinary First Grade warriors.
Subsequently, Lin Qingyin and Chu Jinghong were called to the stage one after another, and the strength they displayed was exactly the same as Qin Yuan.
No matter how hard the opponents try, they are like children facing adults, not even qualified to take serious action.
Lin Qingyin was fighting against a woman who wielded two guns. The woman's shooting skills were fierce and ruthless. Every shot had the potential to penetrate gold and crack stones, leaving white marks on the table.
However, Lin Qingyin just slapped it with a palm, and the woman was knocked dozens of feet away with her gun.
When he landed on the ground, he staggered several steps before barely regaining his balance, his face turned pale.
Chu Jinghong's opponent was a strong man wielding a stick. The strong man's stick skills were wide open and closed. With one sweep of the stick, the wind roared, and it seemed like a level 10 typhoon appeared on the stage.
Chu Jinghong drew his sword, and with just one strike, the iron rod in the strong man's hand was broken into two pieces.
The tiger's mouth cracked, and blood dripped down the broken stick body.
In the audience, the faces of the contestants with Second Grade cultivation became quite solemn.
Although they had long known that the three of them were powerful, seeing such a crushing posture with their own eyes still made them feel powerless.
"Next game, Qingyang Prefecture Fang Han, fight, White Cloud Prefecture Liu Ru."
The voice of the red-robed old man sounded.
Fang Han thought slightly and walked towards the stage. His expression was as calm as water, and there was no trace of nervousness at all.
On the opposite side, a graceful figure also appeared on the stage.
It was a woman who looked to be about twenty-seven or eighty-years-old. She was of middle-to-upper-grade appearance, wearing a dark blue outfit, with a slender soft sword hanging from her waist.
Her face was not stunning, but her eyes were as sharp as an eagle, showing an unabashed edge.
"Please."
Liu Ru slightly arched his hands, his voice was cold.
"Please."
Fang Han also returned the favor.
The old man in red robe glanced at the two of them, then retreated to the edge of the high platform, speaking in a calm voice:
"Start."
The moment the words fell, Liu Ru was the first to move.
She took one step forward, and her dark green outfit made a sharp sound in the wind, and Second Grade Late Stage's cultivation exploded without reservation.
The soft sword suddenly straightened in her hand and turned into a straight cyan sword. The tip of the sword was condensed with a solid sword light, and with a scream that ripped Void Sundering's breath, it pierced Fang Han's throat.
The sword's speed was astonishing. Wherever the sword's edge passed, the air was torn apart, leaving a clearly visible white mark that lingered in the morning light for a long time.
The fine dust on the table was picked up by Sword Qi, dragging a turbid track behind the sword light.
Fang Han's eyes moved slightly.
The power of this sword is comparable to that of ordinary First Grade Late Stage warriors.
With Second Grade Late Stage's cultivation level, he can unleash combat power comparable to that of First Grade Late Stage - this talent is top notch even among Central Thirty-Six Prefectures.
He didn't hold it up, Cloudsplitter Sword was unsheathed.
"Keng--"
The sound of swords that sounded like a dragon's roar exploded in the venue.
Dark Cyan's sword body is flowing with restrained brilliance, and it uses <Void-Sundering Sword Manual> to activate a warrior-level combat power comparable to First Barrier Breakthrough.
A sword greeted him.
The sword light and the green horse collided violently in mid-air.
"Dang--!!!"
The deafening symphony of gold and iron exploded in the venue, and a circle of air waves visible to the naked eye centered on the collision point and spread violently in all directions.
The air wave picked up the dust on the table and formed a turbid ripple in mid-air. Even the contestants standing under the stage could not help but narrow their eyes slightly.
Liu Ru I felt an overwhelming force coming from the sword body. The power was as condensed as substance, with a sharpness that could tear everything apart, pouring into the body along the arm.
She groaned and involuntarily slid back a few feet, her feet plowing two clear marks on the white jade table.
She was surprised by Fang Han's fighting power, but she did not panic. Before she could stabilize her figure, the soft sword was shaken out again.
The blade of the sword snakes around in the air, turning into dozens of cyan arcs of light that are hard to distinguish from reality, covering the vital parts of Fang Han's body from various tricky angles.
She has pushed herself Sword Technique to the extreme.
Each arc of light is condensed and realistic, with a sharp sword energy that can penetrate an ordinary first-grade warrior, leaving behind a series of fine white trails in the air.
Fang Han is not backing off.
He took a step forward and Cloudsplitter Sword slashed out.
This sword was not very fast, but wherever the sword edge passed, the air cracked with fine lines silently.
The lines are condensed and not scattered, like a dark gap.
"Tsk-"
There was a soft sound like the tearing of cloth.
The dozens of cyan arcs of light that were hard to distinguish between reality and reality were torn apart like paper the moment they touched the black gap, and were all annihilated and dissipated.
Liu Ru's pupils suddenly contracted.
She tried her best to hold the soft sword in front of her, trying to block the power of the sword.
But Fang Han's sword was too fast and too fierce, and her hastily deployed defense was like a mantis trying to catch a chariot.
The sword light struck the sword body, making a dull clang of gold and iron.
"Dang--!"
Liu Ru felt his entire right arm go numb instantly, and the soft sword flew out of his hand.
It rolled in the air and drew a parabola, landing on the table a few feet away, the sword itself buzzing and trembling.
She lowered her head, looked at her empty right hand, and then looked up at Fang Han.
In those sharp eyes, the initial sharpness has been replaced by a complex emotion - unwillingness, horror, and a hint of sincere admiration.
"Qingyang Prefecture Fang Han, win."
The voice of the white-haired old man sounded calmly.
Liu Ru took a deep breath, bent down to pick up the soft sword on the ground, returned the sword to its sheath, and raised his hand towards Fang Han:
"Thank you for your mercy."
Without saying much, she turned around and walked down Combat Platform.
His back was straight, but his steps were a bit heavier than when he took the stage.
Fang Han sheathed his sword, turned around, and walked off the stage slowly.
The hem of his white robe fluttered slightly with his steps, and his expression was calm as usual, as if the battle just now was just an ordinary drill.
In the audience, dozens of eyes fell on Fang Han.
Qin Yuan's deep eyes stayed on Fang Han for a moment, and then they looked away. His expression remained calm, with no emotion visible.
Lin Qingyin stood on the other side of the crowd, his elegant eyes passing over Fang Han, and a very faint fluctuation flashed through his eyes.
She gently twirled the broken hair hanging by her ears and said nothing, but she had already written down the name in her heart.
With Second Grade Late Stage's cultivation level, he can unleash a combat power that is comparable to that of an ordinary First Barrier Breakthrough warrior. This ability to fight across levels is already top-notch.
Chu Jinghong's eyes also fell on Fang Han. In those cold eyes, there was a slight ripple, and then fell silent again.
His fingers on the sword hilt tightened slightly, but he didn't say anything more.
Zhen Feixuan's eyes moved and stayed on Fang Han for a moment.
She had already guessed that Fang Han was not simple, but she never expected that it could be so strong.
'Some strength, but no threat to us!'
The other four First Grade warriors also glanced at Fang Han, and they each had their own concerns.
This person does have some strength, but it is not enough to threaten contestants like them who have already entered First Grade.
However, the faces of those contestants with Second Grade cultivation levels were far from so relaxed.
A young man in navy blue clothing stood behind the crowd, staring at the back of Fang Han, his brows tightly knitted together.
He lowered his voice and said to the people he knew next to him:
"With Second Grade Late Stage's cultivation level, he can unleash combat power comparable to that of First Barrier Breakthrough. This Fang Han's... combat power spans four small realms compared to his cultivation level, two of which are small realms between big realms."
When the acquaintance heard this, his face was also solemn, and there was a bit of uncontrollable fear in his voice:
"Although fighting across levels is as easy as drinking water for us talented geniuses, but he has crossed so many small realms... and can win so easily, this person's strength can be regarded as the strongest among the eight First Grade warriors."
Another person answered, with a bit of worry in his voice.
"If we meet him in the next battle, the chances of winning may be slim."