In the elders' seats, several elders' expressions turned exceedingly peculiar.
"What tricks did that brat use? Absolutely despicable and shameless..." one elder murmured.
Zhou Huanzhang said nothing, merely staring darkly at the gray figure on the arena platform.
Through both matches, Chu Yunfei had scraped through danger with his cultivation at the Ninth Level of Qi Condensation.
In the first, Liu Jie had turned against his ally, letting Chu Yunfei reap the fisherman's rewards; in the second, he had used dirty tricks to force Yan Guining to retreat.
Luck?
Scheming?
Whichever it was, it did not change the final outcome.
The next match would be the last.
Chu Yunfei against Xu Changqing.
Fifth Level of Spirit Martial against Ninth Level of Qi Condensation. There would be no more surprises.
In the spectator stands.
Lin Wanyin sat upright in her seat, her beautiful eyes slightly lowered.
In the VIP seats.
Watching this unfold, Situ Shuang'er inexplicably felt a strange sensation she could neither describe nor explain.
She had witnessed Yan Guining leaving the platform with her face covered.
That Senior Sister Yan, renowned throughout the sect for her cold pride, had never shown such an expression before anyone.
She snorted.
What an act.
To her, this was nothing but a performance.
Yan Guining had clearly let Chu Yunfei win on purpose. Fourth Level of Spirit Martial against Ninth Level of Qi Condensation—so what if there was mist?
Locking onto an opponent with spiritual sense wasn't difficult. She could have ended it with one strike, yet she had inexplicably conceded.
Who was she putting on an act for?
What was their relationship?
Could they really have become Dao companions?
The instant that thought surfaced, Situ Shuang'er's heart inexplicably skipped a beat. She frowned and shook the absurd notion from her mind.
Her engagement to Chu Yunfei had long since been dissolved. Whoever he became Dao companions with, what did it have to do with her?
Yet that strange feeling was like an exceedingly fine thorn lodged in a corner of her heart she refused to touch.
Nangong Wuhen glanced sideways at her, the amused smile at the corner of his mouth deepening.
He said nothing.
An incense stick's worth of time soon passed.
Chu Yunfei opened his eyes.
After regulating his breathing, he had recovered seventy percent of his spiritual power, and most of his internal injuries had healed.
The Boundless Creation Scripture performed exceptionally well when it came to recovery. An ordinary cultivator at the Ninth Level of Qi Condensation would have needed at least a day to regain their fighting strength after the exertion of those previous two matches.
But would seventy percent be enough to face Xu Changqing?
Chu Yunfei knew clearly that it would not.
Xu Changqing was neither Ling Feng nor Liu Jie, much less an opponent like Yan Guining whom he could handle with unorthodox tricks.
He was a genuine Fifth Level of Spirit Martial cultivator, with solid cultivation, deep foundations, and a family-inherited earth-grade sword technique at his disposal.
Chu Yunfei took a pale yellow pill from inside his robes-a Qi Recovery Pill that Lin Wanyin had given him earlier. It could restore a large amount of spiritual power in a short time, but placed a certain burden on the meridians.
He popped the Qi Recovery Pill into his mouth. The moment its medicinal potency dissolved, warm spiritual power surged from his dantian, rapidly filling his meridians. Within mere breaths, his spiritual power climbed from seventy to ninety percent.
A faint, swelling pain spread through his meridians. Chu Yunfei suppressed the discomfort.
"He's actually going up there."
"I thought he'd at least have the sense to forfeit."
"He won twice in a row through luck and tricks. Against Senior Brother Xu? What could he possibly win with?"
"He doesn't know his own limits."
By the time Chu Yunfei stepped onto the platform, Xu Changqing was already standing at its center.
Xu Changqing was tall and straight, his white robes spotless, a silvery-white ribbon wound around the hilt of the sword at his waist.
His Fifth Level of Spirit Martial presence was restrained and steady. Unlike Ling Feng's ostentatious display, it gave off a deeper sense of pressure.
Like a still pool whose bottom could not be seen.
As Chu Yunfei approached, the corners of Xu Changqing's mouth lifted slightly.
"Chu Yunfei, I never expected you to make it this far. You really have surprised everyone."
"Just as well. Now I can trample you underfoot myself."
Chu Yunfei did not respond, merely resting his left hand on the hilt of the Abyss-Devouring Sword.
The presiding elder looked at them both and drew a deep breath.
"Begin."
The word fell.
Xu Changqing moved. His opening was utterly unlike that of any previous opponent. There was no explosive assault, no suppression through an outward release of spiritual power. He simply took a step, then drew his sword.
Sword light flowed like drifting clouds.
A silvery-white sword gleam drifted from its sheath, without any savage presence or violent fluctuations of power. It was like a cloud floating in from the horizon-gentle, unhurried, impossible to grasp.
Yet in Chu Yunfei's perception, this seemingly gentle strike was like a mountain bearing down on his head.
The Flowing Cloud Sword Technique.
A sword technique of Earth Rank Low Grade, passed down in the Xu family for centuries. Its moves seemed light and powerless, but each strike concealed several transformations. The slightest error in response would sweep an opponent into its chain of sword strikes, like becoming trapped in true flowing clouds—the more they struggled, the tighter they were entangled.
Chu Yunfei drew the Abyss-Devouring Sword and met it with Heaven-Severing Slash. Dark golden sword light collided with the silvery-white flowing cloud, producing a crisp clash of metal.
A twisting force traveled through the blade. Chu Yunfei's wrist jolted, and the Abyss-Devouring Sword nearly flew from his hand. He rapidly retreated three steps and steadied his sword.
Xu Changqing gave him no chance to breathe. His second strike followed immediately, extending naturally from the end of the first, its angle more devious and its force more concealed.
Chu Yunfei blocked again and retreated again, struggling greatly.
The Flowing Cloud Sword Technique lived up to its name, continuous and inexhaustible.
Each strike seemed simple but actually concealed several possible follow-up transformations. Chu Yunfei had to determine the correct response the instant each strike arrived, or the chain of sword strikes would swallow him.
But his cultivation was insufficient.
Even though his spiritual power at the Ninth Level of Qi Condensation was ten times that of others at his level, he was stretched thin before the Flowing Cloud Sword Technique wielded at the Fifth Level of Spirit Martial. Every block consumed far more spiritual power than his opponent expended.
Xu Changqing's sword tip grazed Chu Yunfei's left arm, opening a wound roughly three inches long.
Blood trickled down his arm onto the gray mystic stone floor, strikingly vivid.
Yet instead of retreating, Chu Yunfei stepped forward. The Abyss-Devouring Sword transformed into three streaks of dark golden sword light-Triple Wave Slash, blasting straight at Xu Changqing.
Xu Changqing raised his brows slightly. With a shift of the Flowing Cloud Sword Technique, his sword light became a silvery-white curtain that shredded all three sword gleams.
At the same time, he found another opening exposed by Chu Yunfei's attack.
A punch.
Not a sword, but a fist.
Wrapped in spiritual power of the Fifth Level of Spirit Martial, Xu Changqing's left fist struck Chu Yunfei squarely in the chest.
Boom!
Blood splattered.
Chu Yunfei gave a muffled groan, his body arching backward. He stumbled back seven steps before barely finding his footing, spraying a mouthful of blood onto the ground.
The force of the punch tore the fabric over his chest, exposing the skin beneath, where a distinct fist mark was turning red.
Cries of shock rose throughout the crowd.
But Chu Yunfei wiped the blood from the corner of his mouth and still did not concede.
He raised his sword and advanced. Though the dark golden light on the Abyss-Devouring Sword was weakening, it never went out.
The exchanges that followed were almost entirely a one-sided crushing.
Xu Changqing's Flowing Cloud Sword Technique was like mercury spilling across the ground, impossible to guard against. Every counterattack Chu Yunfei launched was dissolved without a trace, while each precise counter from his opponent left a fresh wound on his body.
The second wound was on his right ribs, where a sword gleam opened a cut deep enough to expose bone.
The third was on his left shoulder, where a palm strike briefly left his entire arm numb.
The fourth, the fifth, the sixth, the seventh.
Blood stained half his robes red.
The gray fabric, soaked through with blood, turned dark red.
Everyone below the platform saw the entire process clearly. Xu Changqing was a cat toying with a mouse.
He was fully capable of ending the battle with a single strike, but he did not.
He was wearing Chu Yunfei down bit by bit in an almost cruel manner, each strike avoiding his vital points with perfect precision and leaving wounds only in nonfatal areas.
What he wanted was not victory, but the sight of Chu Yunfei being utterly crushed before everyone's eyes.
"Why don't you hurry up and concede, Chu Yunfei?" Xu Changqing stood with his sword withdrawn, not a speck of dust on his robes.
"You've already done your best, but effort cannot bridge the gap in cultivation. The Giant Que Sword should never have belonged to someone like you."
Chu Yunfei said nothing.
He stood there leaning on the Abyss-Devouring Sword, his breathing utterly ragged. Not a single part of his body remained unscathed. Blood dripped along the blade, gathering into a small, dark red puddle at his feet.
Yet his back remained perfectly straight.
Those dark golden eyes stared at Xu Changqing, holding neither fear nor despair.
Only a burning fighting spirit that bordered on madness.