Huo Yuhao: A Thousand Seconds!

He then flipped onto the Soul Fighting Platform, landing with a deliberate, heavy thud. He released his soul power, whipping up a gust of wind that rushed straight toward Huo Yuhao's face.

This was a show of force, his customary opening—to seize the initiative and crush his opponent's spirit from the very start.

Huo Yuhao remained motionless, not even blinking once.

The two stood facing each other, separated by a distance of ten meters.

Liu Ping narrowed his eyes slightly, a flicker of surprise crossing his mind.

This guy is steadier than I imagined.

"Give up! You can't beat me!"

Before the battle began, Liu Ping spoke with great confidence.

His voice was loud, intentionally projected so everyone off the stage could hear.

He wanted everyone to know that the outcome of this fight had been decided from the very beginning.

Huo Yuhao did not speak.

He stood there quietly, his gaze as calm as still water, resting on Liu Ping as if he were looking at a complete stranger.

Seeing that Huo Yuhao ignored him, Liu Ping did not get angry.

So what if he ignored him?

Once he struck Huo Yuhao down with a single blade and left him severely wounded, this guy would naturally open his mouth to beg for mercy.

At that time, he could hear "I surrender" as many times as he wanted.

The referee glanced at the two, confirmed they were ready, and raised his right hand high—

"Begin!"

The moment the words fell, Liu Ping moved.

He gripped his right hand in front of him, and a cold, gleaming single-handed long blade manifested out of thin air, which he grasped firmly.

The blade was about three feet long, its edge shimmering with a chilling white light, the spine thick and heavy, exuding a sharp, murderous aura.

At the same time, two soul rings rose slowly from beneath his feet—two bright yellow soul rings, shining brilliantly in the sunlight.

A level 23 Soul Grand Master, two soul rings, genuine combat power.

Exclamations erupted instantly from beneath the stage—

"Two soul rings! He really is a Soul Grand Master!"

"That Huo Yuhao is finished, completely finished."

"I told you, how could he possibly win? Zhou Yi isn't stupid."

The discussions in the crowd surged like a tide; no one believed Huo Yuhao had any chance left.

Huo Yuhao remained standing where he was, unmoving.

Deep within his eyes, a faint, pearlescent light quietly ignited—Spirit Eye Martial Soul, Possession.

But beneath his feet, no soul rings appeared.

Not a single one.

Sharp-eyed observers off the stage immediately noticed this—

"Wait, why are there no soul rings at his feet?"

"Martial Soul Possession without soul rings? What is going on?"

"Could it be... he hasn't even absorbed a soul ring?"

"That's impossible, right? How could he have broken through his level without a soul ring?"

Amidst the chatter, Liu Ping also noticed this.

He frowned slightly, but his brow quickly smoothed out—so what if there were no soul rings?

Even with soul rings, a level 13 soul power could not be his match.

He hesitated no longer, pushed off hard with his feet, and his figure shot toward Huo Yuhao like an arrow!

"First Soul Skill: Sharp!"

The first yellow soul ring at his feet suddenly lit up, and an invisible force surged into the long blade.

The blade vibrated slightly, and the light on its edge became increasingly fierce—this was an augmentation-type soul skill that could increase the sharpness and weight of his Martial Soul.

With a single strike, it could even cleave through an iron plate.

The ten-meter distance was covered in an instant.

Liu Ping closed in on Huo Yuhao, raised his long blade high with his right hand, and the second soul ring at his feet slowly lit up—

"Second Soul Skill: Black Iron Slash!"

The blade suddenly descended, as if carrying the weight of a Thousand Jun, and slashed fiercely toward Huo Yuhao's face!

This strike was fast and ruthless, carrying the full force of his level 23 soul power; the wind of the blade whistled, as if the very air were being cleaved in two!

The crowd below the stage held their breath—

If that blade landed, Huo Yuhao would either be dead or crippled!

However—

Huo Yuhao stood rooted to the spot, as motionless as a wooden statue throughout the entire ordeal.

He simply watched quietly as Liu Ping approached, watched the long blade being raised high, and watched the edge cleave toward his face, accompanied by a fierce, whistling wind.

No dodging, no defense, not even a change in expression.

"He's already this close, why isn't he moving?"

"I think he's been scared witless!"

"Boring. I told you, how could someone in the teens possibly beat someone in the twenties?"

Seeing this scene, the crowd below revealed expressions of "as expected."

Those who had bet on Huo Yuhao's certain defeat already wore the joy of impending victory on their faces.

In the front row of the crowd, Mu Jin's brows were tightly furrowed.

She looked at the motionless figure on the stage, a complex, indescribable emotion rising in her heart—could it be... that she had really misjudged him?

Was the heart-stopping certainty that this youth had displayed in the classroom just a bluff?

Not far away, a flicker of hesitation also crossed Ning Tian's eyes.

She subconsciously gripped her sleeves, her gaze locked tightly onto Huo Yuhao—no, that couldn't be right.

Just a moment ago, she had clearly sensed a calmness and mystery about this youth that did not match his age.

That kind of temperament could not be faked.

But why...

The blade was now less than three feet from Huo Yuhao's face.

Two feet.

One foot.

The wind of the blade rushed against his face, blowing the stray hair on Huo Yuhao's forehead.

Some people below had already begun to cheer—

At that very instant.

Huo Yuhao moved.

He raised his right hand.

The movement was not fast; one could even call it slow. He raised his hand in such an unremarkable way, as if he were merely waving it casually.

Then—

He pinched his two fingers together lightly.

"Snap."

A soft sound echoed.

Liu Ping's thunderous strike came to an abrupt halt.

The blade was caught between Huo Yuhao's two fingers, not moving a single millimeter, as if it were being crushed by a massive mountain.

The look of triumph on Liu Ping's face froze instantly.

He was stunned for a moment, then gritted his teeth, the veins on his arm bulging as he exerted all his strength to press downward—

It didn't budge.

He tried to pull the blade back—

Still, it didn't budge.

Huo Yuhao's two fingers held the blade so lightly, yet they acted like a divine mountain, firmly locking his long blade in place.

"This... how is this possible?!"

Liu Ping's pupils shrank, his face filled with disbelief.

Below the stage, there was a deathly silence.

Everyone had their eyes wide and mouths agape, as if they had been struck by a paralysis spell.

What kind of monster is this?!

Catching a blade with two fingers?!

That was the full-force strike of a level 23 Soul Grand Master, and that was a martial soul enhanced by a soul skill!

How could it possibly... be caught by two fingers?!

On the Soul Fighting Platform, Huo Yuhao remained expressionless.

His two fingers held the blade steadily, and as he felt the faint force coming from the edge, his heart remained completely calm.

Myriad Tribulation Indestructible Body, first layer, second stage—Copper Skin Golden Muscle, both achieved.

Not even the full-force claw of a century-old soul beast could scratch him in the slightest, let alone this blade of common iron in Liu Ping's hand.

A level twenty-three Soul Grand Master?

Before him, he was no different from a toddler who had just learned to walk.

Cold sweat seeped from Liu Ping's forehead.

He struggled with all his might, yet that long blade remained as if welded to Huo Yuhao's fingertips, immovable no matter how hard he tried.

His martial soul, which he took such pride in, and the long blade he relied on for his fame, were now nothing more than a laughable toy.

"You... what exactly are you..."

He opened his mouth, his voice trembling.

Huo Yuhao did not answer.

He merely raised his eyelids and cast a glance at Liu Ping.

That gaze was calm as water, devoid of mockery, triumph, or even the slightest hint of emotion.

Yet, it was precisely that look that sent a bone-chilling cold rising from Liu Ping's head to his heels.

That gaze did not look like it was observing an opponent; it looked like it was observing an ant.

The next second, Huo Yuhao moved.

He gently loosened the two fingers pinning the blade, then flipped his right hand, fingers pressed together, and pushed out a palm strike.

The movement remained unhurried, even gentle.

But the moment the palm pushed out, an invisible force began to gather, surge, and stack within his palm—

"First Layer Overlapping Wave Palm!"

The palm technique was like a wave, one layer following another.

Before the palm wind even touched him, Liu Ping felt a force as overwhelming as a collapsing mountain rushing toward his face.

He wanted to dodge, he wanted to retreat, but his body felt as if it had been frozen in place, unable to move a muscle.

"Bang!"

The palm landed solidly on Liu Ping's chest.

Liu Ping felt as if his chest had been violently rammed by a charging rhinoceros, a massive force surging into his body like a tidal wave.

The long blade slipped from his hand, dissolving into specks of starlight in the air.

His entire body flew backward like a kite with a broken string.

"Bang!"

He slammed heavily onto the Soul Fighting Platform, sliding several meters until he barely came to a stop at the very edge.

His eyes rolled back, his breath grew faint, and he fell completely unconscious.

One move.

A single move.

A level twenty-three Soul Grand Master, instantly defeated.

The entire arena fell into a deathly silence, where even the drop of a needle could be heard.