Heavenly Sword Saint
The atmosphere within the training ground had grown heavy.
The weaker disciples had already been eliminated.
Those who remained had earned their places through battle.
From this point onward, every match would decide who continued toward the final eight.
The supervising elder stepped onto the platform.
His voice rang across the training ground.
"Jian Ming."
"Jian Tao."
Two figures stepped forward.
Jian Ming remained calm, one hand resting lightly on the hilt of his sword.
Jian Tao tightened his grip.
He knew how dangerous his opponent was.
But he had fought hard to reach this stage.
He would not surrender easily.
The elder raised his hand.
"Begin!"
Jian Tao attacked first.
His sword shot forward with sharp precision.
Jian Ming shifted sideways.
The blade passed beside him.
Jian Tao immediately changed direction.
His sword swept toward Jian Ming's shoulder.
Clang!
Jian Ming raised his sword and blocked.
Jian Tao pressed forward.
One strike.
Then another.
His attacks came without pause, forcing Jian Ming backward.
The spectators watched closely.
"Jian Tao is keeping the pressure on."
"If he can maintain this rhythm, he might have a chance."
Jian Tao's sword flashed again.
Jian Ming retreated another step.
Then stopped.
His eyes sharpened.
The next attack arrived.
Jian Ming's wrist turned.
His sword slid along Jian Tao's blade.
The force of the attack was redirected.
Jian Tao's balance shifted.
His eyes widened.
Jian Ming stepped forward.
A flash of sword light appeared.
Jian Tao tried to retreat.
Too late.
The sword stopped before his chest.
Silence.
The supervising elder raised his hand.
"Jian Ming wins."
The crowd erupted.
Jian Ming calmly withdrew his sword and stepped off the platform.
Jian Tao stood there for a moment before lowering his weapon.
He had controlled most of the exchange.
But one opening had been enough.
The elder waited for the noise to settle.
Then he announced the next pair.
"Jian Xun."
"Jian Shuang."
The two disciples stepped onto the platform.
Both drew their swords.
Neither spoke.
The elder raised his hand.
"Begin!"
Jian Shuang attacked.
His sword descended with tremendous force.
Clang!
Jian Xun blocked, but the impact drove him backward.
Jian Shuang followed immediately.
Another strike.
Jian Xun blocked.
A third came from the side.
Jian Xun lowered his body and slipped beneath it.
His sword swept toward Jian Shuang's waist.
Jian Shuang twisted away.
The blade missed by inches.
He counterattacked.
Their swords collided again.
Clang!
The battle became fierce.
Jian Shuang relied on powerful attacks, forcing Jian Xun to give ground.
But Jian Xun's movements remained precise.
He waited.
Blocked.
Retreated.
Countered.
Neither could gain a decisive advantage.
Then Jian Shuang launched another attack.
Jian Xun suddenly stopped retreating.
At the final moment, he shifted sideways.
The sword passed beside his shoulder.
Jian Xun stepped forward.
The distance between them disappeared.
His sword rose.
Jian Shuang's defense opened for an instant.
That was enough.
The blade stopped before his chest.
Jian Shuang froze.
The supervising elder immediately announced,
"Jian Xun wins."
The crowd erupted again.
Jian Xun lowered his sword.
Jian Shuang took a breath before stepping off the platform.
The battle had been close.
But Jian Xun had seized the one moment that mattered.
The elder turned toward the remaining disciples.
His voice rang out once more.
"Jian Yue."
"Jian Qiao."
A young woman stepped onto the platform.
Jian Qiao followed.
They stopped several meters apart.
Jian Yue calmly drew her sword.
Jian Qiao lowered his stance.
The elder raised his hand.
"Begin!"
Jian Qiao exploded forward.
His sword descended.
Clang!
Jian Yue was forced backward.
Jian Qiao attacked again.
Then again.
His sword strikes came one after another, leaving Jian Yue little opportunity to counter.
She continued retreating.
The edge of the platform drew closer.
Several disciples began whispering.
"She's running out of space."
"Jian Qiao has completely taken control."
But Jian Yue remained composed.
She didn't rush.
She didn't panic.
She simply waited.
Jian Qiao saw her retreat and immediately pressed forward.
His sword rose.
Then descended with greater force.
Jian Yue moved half a step.
The blade passed beside her.
Jian Qiao's momentum carried him forward.
For the briefest instant, his balance opened.
Jian Yue's eyes sharpened.
She moved.
Her sword pierced through the opening.
Jian Qiao's pupils contracted.
He twisted his body.
The blade stopped beside his shoulder.
Before he could recover, Jian Yue's wrist turned.
Her sword moved toward his throat.
It stopped less than an inch away.
Silence.
The supervising elder raised his hand.
"Jian Yue wins."
The crowd erupted.
Jian Qiao lowered his sword.
He understood immediately.
He had become too eager to finish the battle.
Jian Yue had simply waited for him to make a mistake.
She withdrew her sword and stepped down.
The elder looked across the training ground.
"Jian Ming."
"Jian Xun."
"Jian Yue."
Their victories had secured their advancement.
The remaining disciples gathered beneath the platform.
The atmosphere was different now.
No one joked.
No one treated the tournament casually.
Every disciple still standing had proven that they belonged among the strongest of the younger generation.
The crowd began discussing the upcoming matches.
"Jian Ming's Phantom Flow Sword Art is difficult to counter."
"Jian Xun's timing is excellent."
"Jian Yue barely made a mistake."
"All three have a chance of reaching the final eight."
Then a quieter voice came from somewhere in the crowd.
"What about Jian Chen?"
The conversations immediately changed.
Several disciples turned toward the waiting area.
Jian Chen sat quietly.
His iron sword rested beside him.
He appeared completely detached from the excitement around him.
A disciple lowered his voice.
"After Jian Xuan's defeat, I stopped thinking of Jian Chen as someone we could casually challenge."
Another nodded.
"Same."
"Jian Xuan was an Eighth-Stage cultivator."
"And Jian Chen defeated him."
A third disciple glanced toward Jian Chen.
"That's what makes him difficult to judge."
"We've already seen enough to know he's beyond the level of ordinary disciples."
"But we still don't know where his true limit is."
Someone frowned.
"Do you think anyone here can stop him?"
No one answered immediately.
The result of Jian Chen's battle against Jian Xuan had already changed everything.
Before that battle, there had still been disciples willing to treat him as someone they could measure themselves against.
Afterward...
That confidence had disappeared.
Most had already understood that Jian Chen was out of their league.
The question was no longer whether he was strong.
It was how far that strength actually reached.
Across the training ground, Jian Chen remained unmoved.
He heard the discussion.
But he had no reason to respond.
His fingers rested lightly against the hilt of his sword.
The supervising elder stepped onto the platform.
The conversations immediately stopped.
He unfolded the ranking list.
His eyes swept across the remaining disciples.
"The next matches will determine the final eight."
The atmosphere tightened.
The elder continued,
"Those who win will advance."
"Those who lose will be eliminated."
The remaining disciples straightened.
Only eight places remained.
The elder lowered his gaze to the list.
For a moment, he said nothing.
Then...
He raised his head.
"The first battle."
The training ground became completely silent.
"Jian Chen."
A murmur swept through the crowd.
Jian Chen slowly opened his eyes.
His expression remained calm.
He reached for the iron sword beside him.
The moment his fingers closed around the hilt, the whispers disappeared.
The elder continued,
"Your opponent..."
He paused.
Jian Chen stepped forward.
The crowd watched him walk toward the platform.
There was no arrogance in his expression.
No hesitation.
Only calm.
The road to the final eight had reached him.
And whoever stood before him...
Would soon discover whether they were strong enough to stop his advance.