In the Martial Academy square, the dust settled.
The fierce winds gradually died down, and the stones and dust filling the sky slowly fell to earth.
A deathly silence spread into every corner of the vast training ground.
Under the eyes of ten thousand spectators, the white-robed youth stood with his hands behind his back, straight as a lone pine atop a sheer cliff, his bearing noble, like a king reborn.
Liu Yunche's robes remained neat, unstained by even a speck of blood. He had been calm and unhurried from beginning to end, as though he had just finished an ordinary practice bout rather than a death match spanning an entire major realm.
His opponent, by contrast, was a different sight.
Agony wracked Gu Yanqiu's entire body. Blood and vital energy churned in his chest and abdomen, blood trickled from his lips, and he lay sprawled miserably on the ground.
He braced himself on both arms and tried to rise, but every time he exerted himself, a tearing, obstructive pain shot through the places where his tendons joined his bones.
At that moment, all his pride and confidence, all the assurance honed through years of deadly combat, crumbled completely.
He raised his head and gazed at the calm, indifferent figure in white standing in the arena. Only bone-deep disbelief and profound regret remained in his eyes.
He had attained two Extreme Realms, fought a hundred bloody battles, and broken through into the Bone Tempering Realm ahead of time. He had believed his foundation solid and his road ahead clear.
Only today did he finally see the truth: in the end, he had lost because of his birth.
Young and accomplished, Gu Yanqiu had naively believed that even without the Dragon Tendon Extreme Realm, he could carve out a place in