Lin Xuan, Go!

On the fifth arena, Lin Xuan faced Jin Xu.

"Heh heh, kid, guess you're unlucky to have run into me!" Jin Xu laughed wildly. "If you surrender on your own, maybe you'll suffer a little less!"

Lin Xuan's face remained expressionless. With the dark-red greatsword strapped to his back, he looked at Jin Xu across from him and said, "You talk too much."

"Kid, since you're courting death, I'll grant your wish!" Jin Xu flew into a rage. He slapped his sword sheath, and his longsword sprang free. His entire body became a streak of light as he charged at Lin Xuan.

"Fine swordsmanship!" Lin Xuan raised a brow. "Worthy of a disciple who passed the first round. His skills are indeed remarkable. This sword art already carries a trace of sword momentum—sharp beyond compare."

Before the sword arrived, its Sword Qi had already reached him.

Lin Xuan stood as still as a mountain. Just as the blade was about to reach him, he suddenly moved, swift as lightning, and struck the sword's body with his palm.

At once, the longsword stabbing toward Lin Xuan veered several inches off course. Lin Xuan did not stop. He flipped his hand, curled his fingers tight, and flicked the blade.

Clang!

A crisp sound rang out as fierce force traveled along the sword into Jin Xu's arm.

As though struck by a heavenly hammer, Jin Xu's tiger's mouth split open. The longsword flew from his hand, shattered into several pieces in midair, and scattered across the ground.

"You!" Jin Xu cradled his right hand and staggered back, all arrogance gone from his eyes. Only now did he understand why Lin Xuan had remained expressionless from start to finish. They were simply not on the same level.

"I lost..." It was as if all strength had left him.

"Number one hundred and thirty-five wins!" the referee announced.

"What happened? Why did it end already?" Those watching the second arena began asking around, wanting to know what had happened.

"What? He shattered the longsword with one finger and injured Jin Xu with the shock? You're joking, right? Jin Xu is ranked eighty-eighth among the disciples!"

"No, I have to watch number one hundred and thirty-five's next match!"

Just as the disciples were discussing it, earth-shaking cheers erupted from the fifth arena.

"Senior Brother Lin is mighty!"

"Brother Xuan is so handsome!"

"Brother Xuan, take first place in one go!"

The stands near the fifth arena were filled with South District disciples, along with some disciples who often sparred with Lin Xuan. Seeing Lin Xuan win in a single move, they all cheered and applauded.

Other than the core figures of the three great factions and the Four Outer Sect Elites, few disciples could draw such thunderous support. Quite a few disciples turned to look.

"Hmph, it seems that trash is quite popular!" Yan Kong sneered.

"Don't mind him. He'll never amount to anything. Our goal is to firmly suppress the Battle Group!" Jiang Yulong paid no attention to Lin Xuan at all.

Lin Xuan returned to the resting area. At that moment, the battle on the second arena had yet to end. A Battle Group disciple wielding a saber and a Divine Might Corps disciple wielding a longsword were locked in a fierce, inseparable struggle.

Their figures were swift as ghosts, afterimages filling the sky. Ordinary disciples could not see what was happening at all; only some powerful disciples could catch their movements.

Naturally, Lin Xuan could see their moves clearly. He also noticed that although the Divine Might Corps disciple's swordsmanship was graceful and fluid, he had already fallen into his opponent's encirclement. He would likely lose within ten moves.

"Congratulations. The Battle Group disciple is about to win," Lin Xuan said to Tang Yu with a smile.

Tang Yu blinked mischievously and said nothing, but the nearby Divine Might Corps disciples could not stomach it.

"Kid, what do you know? How dare you spout nonsense!"

"That's right, can you even see the match on the arena?"

"You're talking nonsense with your eyes wide open just to impress a beauty! I despise you!"

Those disciples did not believe Lin Xuan could see the match clearly, much less determine who would win or lose. Yet seven moves later, they nearly bit their tongues off.

The Divine Might Corps disciple really did lose, and he lost immediately after Lin Xuan finished speaking.

"Damn it, what a crow's beak!"

"Kid, say another word of nonsense and you'll regret it!" The Divine Might Corps disciples glared viciously at Lin Xuan.

Lin Xuan shook his head helplessly and ignored them. He was now recalling the battle on the second arena. These elite disciples truly were no hollow shells; every one of them was powerful, and he had gained some experience from watching them.

More than a hundred disciples took turns battling on the arenas, unleashing all manner of techniques. The watching disciples shouted with excitement, thoroughly enjoying themselves. At last, the first round of matches ended.

Other than the top ten disciples from the first round, who did not need to compete, the remaining one hundred and thirty disciples had half advance to the second round. Since sixty-five people would be competing, one person would receive a bye.

The advancing disciples all closed their eyes and silently prayed that they would be the one to receive the bye.

"Yin Qingyi receives a bye this round!" the square-faced middle-aged man announced.

"Ah!" Yin Qingyi's little mouth hung half open, her face full of surprise, while everyone else was immensely disappointed.

"Congratulations, you've advanced smoothly!" Lin Xuan said with a smile.

"Th-thank you, Senior Brother Lin," Yin Qingyi said, blushing.

"Next is the second round. Number one hundred and thirty-five versus number forty-nine!"

"Such a huge gap in ranking—looks like this will be another lightning battle!" a spectator said unhappily.

Lin Xuan had not expected to be the first one up, but that was fine. Once he finished, he could return to the resting area and watch everyone else compete. With that thought, he stood, strapped the dark-red greatsword to his back, and slowly walked onto the arena.

"Damn, it's that guy! He cursed our Divine Might Corps earlier! Senior Brother Xue, teach him a ruthless lesson!" the Divine Might Corps disciples shouted.

"Senior Brother Xue, crush him!" Countless disciples in the stands yelled.

Xue Huaqing strolled forward as if taking a leisurely walk, basking in the cheers from the stands. He knew those cheers belonged to him.

But to his surprise, an unusual wave of cheers rose from the arena not far away, like ocean swells crashing ever higher.

"Senior Brother Lin, go! I believe in you!"

"Smack him to death! You have to smack him to death! Lin Xuan, use your greatsword and smack him to death!"

"Brother Xuan, we support you! The South District disciples stand with you!"

Those cheers were no weaker than the Divine Might Corps's. Many of the advancing disciples could not help looking over as well.

"Heh, I never expected that, apart from the three great factions, someone else could possess such prestige. I'm starting to look forward to this," a black-clad youth near the golden stands said with a smile.

"What, do you want to recruit him?" the youth beside him asked.

"Just watching." The black-clad youth said no more and turned his gaze toward the arena.

"Kid, looks like quite a lot of people support you. I wonder whether they'll be sad when you're beaten into a miserable defeat?" Xue Huaqing sneered. In his eyes, Lin Xuan daring to steal his spotlight was simply courting death.

"I finally know why all of you wanted to join the Divine Might Corps," Lin Xuan said expressionlessly.

"Why?" Xue Huaqing asked subconsciously.

"Because you're all idiots. Will you die if you fight without wasting so much breath?" Lin Xuan rolled his eyes.

"Very well, kid. I'm officially informing you now: I'm angry!" Xue Huaqing said coldly. "The consequence is that you'll be carried out lying down!"

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