Li Chen stood on the arena platform, his figure tall and slender, his bearing exceptional. He possessed a composure and restraint far beyond those of young cultivators.
Many older cultivators sighed in admiration. If they had possessed Li Chen's strength at his age, they would probably have been clamoring to fight ten opponents at once.
It was truly rare that Li Chen could hold himself back from boasting.
They thought more and more highly of him, each offering glowing praise.
They even began guessing which sect Li Chen belonged to.
Once most sword cultivators unleashed their techniques, their sword intent revealed which school had trained them.
The problem was that Li Chen had not used any sword techniques. How could they tell?
Around the arena platform, the challengers looked at Li Chen as though gazing at a towering divine mountain. They did not dare challenge him at all.
The referee called three names in succession, and all three forfeited outright. They did not even have the courage to fight Li Chen.
What a joke. Even Gao Qiu could not withstand a single move. How could they?
Everyone knew Gao Qiu's capabilities. Since he had dared to be the first to take the stage, he certainly had some skill.
This was the first time the organizers had encountered such a situation. To keep the event from falling flat, a somewhat older female sword cultivator stepped forward.
"Fellow Daoist Cheng," she said, "I imagine many people would like to know how strong you are. Might I presume to ask you for a spar?"
She spoke with utmost courtesy, hardly sounding like an elder addressing a junior.
Everyone understood. In the cultivation world, strength commanded respect. Being young did not mean being weak.
Li Chen's strength warranted the older sword cultivator's courtesy. She