Even after being deeply shaken by that swordsmanship, they still watched the black-clad boy holding his saber with a faint sense of anticipation.
After all, however miraculous and powerful that sword might be, Shang Huaitong already stood there as an invincible figure above them all. He could offer no further surprises. But if Yang Yan could take the crown... that would be a breathtaking reversal, an overturning that turned the impossible into the possible!
As long as that mysterious saber art could prove equally effective against this artistic conception.
People looked down. The black-clad boy with the saber already stood in the arena. His figure remained silent and sharp, and that bearing bolstered their confidence considerably. For a moment, many cheered for him.
Across from him, Green-Clad also stepped into the arena, sword in hand.
In the arena.
Yang Yan stood on the other side, watching Pei Ye. When the boy saluted him with his sword held before him, he straightened solemnly and returned the salute with his saber, then raised his head and slowly drew the blade.
Before taking the stage, he had gone over to ask Pei Ye, "Which of us is fighting the final round?"
Pei Ye had just risen from beside the woman. His expression was still subdued, but at those words, he turned back and smiled at him. "What kind of question is that? Whoever wins, of course."
"..."
"Competing in a Martial Competition is fun. Naturally, we should fight however we're supposed to. How could we skip a match just because we know each other?"
"..." It was not a question of skipping anything. Yang Yan was asking about Shang Huaitong in the final-*You have the ability to kill someone at seventh growth, anyway. If you're willing to reveal it, naturally you should