Challenge

Wang Tieshan had already taken his position. "Kid, are you ready?"

Song Chen walked over and stood opposite him. "Ready."

The stands fell silent, everyone staring at the two men in the arena.

Wang Tieshan rolled his shoulders and assumed an opening stance. "I'll give you three moves. I won't strike back within those three moves. After that, watch yourself."

Song Chen shook his head. "No need."

Wang Tieshan froze for a moment. "What did you say?"

"No need. Just come at me."

The stands erupted.

"Has this kid gone crazy?"

"He doesn't want three free moves? Who does he think he is?"

"Steward Wang, teach him a lesson!"

Instead, Li Wei grew excited in her seat. "That's the way, Brother Chen! Knock that big-headed Wang flat!"

Song Chen did not respond. He merely stood there, his right hand resting on his sword hilt, his gaze calm as he watched Wang Tieshan.

Wang Tieshan stared at him for several seconds before grinning. "Interesting. Then I won't hold back."

The moment he finished speaking, he moved.

The speed of a Peak Second Rank martial artist was astonishing. In the blink of an eye, he crossed ten meters and struck toward Song Chen's chest with his palm. There was nothing flashy about that strike; it was the purest kind of overwhelming force. Palm wind howled, carrying fierce power. If an ordinary First Rank took that blow, they would be seriously injured at the very least.

Song Chen did not retreat. He sidestepped the palm strike and drew his sword with his right hand.

A flash of sword light made Wang Tieshan's pupils contract slightly. That strike was too fast—so fast that he had nearly failed to react. The blade skimmed past his arm. He withdrew his palm and stepped back.

"What a fast sword. No, something's wrong. How can a First Rank have a sword this fast?"

Wang Tieshan became serious at once.

Song Chen did not press the attack. He remained where he was, sword tip lowered to the ground. "Again."

The look in Wang Tieshan's eyes changed. He no longer underestimated this young man. Taking a deep breath, he unleashed the power of his vitality, his entire body like a fierce tiger waking from slumber.

"Watch out!"

He charged again. This time, he was faster and stronger, both palms striking out with enough force to split steles and shatter stone.

Song Chen moved. His sword was like lightning, leaving streak after streak of afterimages in the air. Sword light and palm shadows intertwined, producing a rapid series of collisions.

"Clang, clang, clang, clang..."

That was the sound of blade edge colliding with palm force.

Wang Tieshan wore specially made alloy gloves on his hands, allowing him to take weapons head-on. Relying on the vitality of a Peak Second Rank martial artist, every palm strike weighed ten thousand pounds. Yet Song Chen's sword was faster—so fast that Wang Tieshan could not touch him at all.

The two moved rapidly across the arena. Wherever they passed, deep sword marks and palm prints were left in the alloy floor.

Everyone in the stands was dumbfounded.

"Th-this kid really is only First Rank?"

"He's fighting Steward Wang to a draw?"

"No, look! Steward Wang is defending passively!"

Someone cried out.

Indeed, the situation in the arena gradually became clear. Song Chen's sword grew faster and faster, his attacks fiercer and fiercer. Wang Tieshan, who had begun on the offensive, was forced into passive defense, and in the end, he even began to retreat.

Sweat appeared on his forehead. He could not block Song Chen's sword. That blade was too fast, too sharp. He could clearly see the edge, yet his body could not react in time.

Even more frightening, the sword carried the power of lightning. With every collision, a thread of current passed through the alloy gloves, making his arms go slightly numb. It was not fatal, but as it accumulated, his movements had noticeably slowed.

What exactly is this kid?

In the stands, the martial artists who had originally been waiting to enjoy a joke were now utterly silent.

At the edge of the training ground, an old man had appeared at some point. Watching the battle in the arena, he narrowed his eyes slightly.

The martial artists beside him all rose respectfully. "Hall Master, why have you come?"

The old man waved his hand without speaking.

His gaze settled on Song Chen, and the longer he watched, the more astonished he became.

Eighteen years old, Peak First Rank Vitality Value, on the verge of breaking through to Second Rank—none of that was much. He had seen plenty of geniuses. A B-rank ability was somewhat rare, but among the geniuses he had encountered, there had been quite a few like that.

What truly moved the old man was Song Chen's swordsmanship. At his level, he could naturally see that Song Chen's sword technique was not of a high grade—only C-rank. Yet Song Chen had actually cultivated this C-rank sword technique to the Mastery Realm.

Eighteen years old, with a C-rank combat technique at the Mastery Realm—what did that mean? It meant this kid's understanding of martial techniques had surpassed that of the vast majority of Third Rank martial artists. Even many Fourth Rank and Fifth Rank martial artists understood martial techniques less deeply than he did. It meant his talent in swordsmanship ranked among the very best the old man had ever seen.

And there was that killing intent. That was something only gained by slaughtering countless mutant beasts.

This kid...

The old man suddenly smiled. "Interesting."

The Blood War Blade Technique at the Mastery Realm was the true foundation of Song Chen's confidence.

In the arena, the battle had already reached a fever pitch.

Song Chen's sword became faster and faster, and the lightning on it grew stronger as well. Purple arcs coiled around the blade, every swing accompanied by crackling sounds.

Wang Tieshan had already retreated more than a dozen steps. His back was nearly against the edge of the stands. His hands were trembling—not from exhaustion, but from being shocked.

What kind of monster is this kid?

Song Chen looked at him and suddenly sheathed his sword.

Wang Tieshan was stunned. Song Chen's previous sword momentum had been exhausted, while new force had yet to arise. This was the best chance for him to counterattack, yet he did not move, because he could see that Song Chen was giving him an out.

If Song Chen had not withdrawn that strike and had continued cutting, Wang Tieshan might not have been able to block it. He might even have been chopped off the platform. But Song Chen had stopped, deliberately leaving him an opening.

What does this mean?

Wang Tieshan suddenly understood. This kid... is giving me a way to save face.

He paused, then laughed. "Good kid. I acknowledge you."

After silently muttering something to himself, he struck Song Chen with his palm.

Song Chen sidestepped, his blade turning as their moves collided.

Bang!

Both of them retreated three steps at the same time.

Then Song Chen sheathed his sword, and Wang Tieshan withdrew his palm.

A draw.

The training ground was silent for a moment before earthshaking cries erupted.

"A draw?"

"A First Rank fought a Peak Second Rank to a draw?!"

"Who is this kid?"

"I want to take him as my master!"

Wang Tieshan stood where he was, looking at Song Chen with a complicated expression.

"Kid, what was your name again?"

"Song Chen."

Wang Tieshan nodded. "Song Chen, I'll remember you. Eighteen years old, Peak First Rank, B-rank ability, C-rank sword technique at the Mastery Realm. I, Wang Tieshan, am convinced."

He turned and walked toward the side of the stands.

When he reached the old man, he lowered his head. "Hall Master, I concede."

The old man smiled and shook his head. "You did not lose, and he did not win. It was a draw."

He looked at Song Chen, his eyes full of admiration. "Kid, are you willing to join the Divine Dragon Martial Hall?"

Song Chen walked over and looked at him. "I am."

The old man nodded. "From today onward, you are a core member of the Divine Dragon Martial Hall. From now on, we are family. We'll arrange the best house for you in the family residential district. Your parents can move in and live there."

Song Chen's eyes lit up. A core member? Not an ordinary member? After thinking it over, understanding dawned on him. He said nothing more and merely cupped his hands toward the old man. "Thank you, Hall Master."

The old man waved his hand. "No need to thank me. You earned it yourself."

He turned to leave, then suddenly stopped. "Oh, right. What was that sword technique of yours called?"

"The Blood War Blade Technique."

The old man nodded. "A good name. Practice it well. When the opportunity comes, I'll teach you a more profound sword technique."

He left.

Song Chen stood where he was, watching the old man's departing back, seeming to still have no idea what his name was.