On the Diamond Platform, the tension between Guan Yu and the blond Japanese man, Okamoto Takashi, was palpable.
Once their instructor, Fujikata Nobuko, finished reading out the rules, both men became streaks of light, darting toward each other.
For a moment, phantom figures raced all over the Ling Terrace Arena, their flashing footsteps making it look as though a whole crowd was running around.
Some of the weaker mages could not even tell when the two clashed or when their spells collided.
"Okamoto Takashi is a speed-type mage too? Guan Yu picked himself a good opponent," Jiang Yu said.
Fighting an evenly matched mage of the same type was an opportunity that could only come by chance.
After all, no two people in the world were exactly alike. Even if they followed similar paths of cultivation, every mage had different priorities, and the details they displayed were never entirely the same.
By fighting a mage of the same type, a mage could not only hone their strength in battle but also observe and learn their opponent's fighting style and finer techniques, refining their own path of cultivation.
"Who do you think will win?" Zhao Manyan asked.
Jiang Yu shook his head. "They're too fast. I can't see clearly."
"Obviously, the Japanese guy will lose," Mo Fan said.
"You're that sure? Can you tell how far apart their cultivation levels are?"
"Of course not."
"Then why?"
"I may not like that fish, but if he loses to someone from the Japanese National Pavilion, that stinking salted fish might as well crawl home and suck on a bottle," Mo Fan said casually.
Mo Fan was speaking the truth. They were the Main Team of mighty China. If they could not even beat Japan's substitute team, they really might as well go home