Liang Chen clenched his fists. His jaw was tight. The wind stirred his robes as he stepped forward on the platform. Across from him, Shen Junming stood relaxed, holding his sword lazily at his side, almost like he didn't care.
"You will regret standing in front of me," Liang Chen said, his voice cold.
Junming didn't answer.
Liang Chen raised his sword high. "Flame Serpent Slash!"
He charged forward, sword blazing with red spiritual energy. His movement was fast, but Junming shifted his stance calmly and side-stepped.
The crowd watched in silence.
Liang Chen spun. "Soaring Flame Pierce!"
Again, he rushed, sword arcing in a deadly flash. Junming ducked under it. The blade whistled past his ear.
"Two attacks missed..."
"Shen Junming avoided both?"
"Is he playing with Liang Chen?"
"Look at his footwork. It's so precise…"
"Liang Chen's martial techniques are famous in Shen County. How did Junming evade them?"
Liang Chen heard every word, and his anger surged.
Liang Chen gritted his teeth and launched another flurry of attacks. He moved like fire itself. Each strike burned with fury.
"Molten Fang!"
"Burning Wave!"
"Flame Chain Strike!"
Junming didn't block. He shifted, turned, stepped, dodged. Ten strikes came, ten were avoided without a scratch.
"You're a coward!" Liang Chen shouted. "Afraid to fight back?!"
Junming smiled faintly. He didn't speak.
The crowd, which had just praised him, now shifted again—this time turning against him.
"Hmph, all he can do is dodge."
"Yeah, no honor in that."
"What kind of cultivator runs like a rat?"
"Boring."
Junming's smile didn't vanish.
But his stance changed.
He stepped forward once.
A silver flash.
A loud crack followed.
Liang Chen froze. His sword split in two. The top half shattered into dozens of fragments.
One shard flew across his cheek, cutting a deep line. Blood spilled. He didn't even blink. He was still frozen in shock.
The crowd was dead silent.
On the side of the platform, Shen Xueya's eyes went wide. Her mouth parted slightly. She stared at Junming like she didn't recognize him.
Junming didn't say anything. He walked past Liang Chen, brushing by him like wind. As he neared the edge of the stage, he paused.
Then, step by step, he walked off, his back straight, his sword sheathed. His robe fluttered lightly with each step.
He didn't look back.
Aura poured off him, invisible but heavy.
A single word passed through the silence.
"…Cool."
Then the murmurs began.
"Did… did anyone see his sword move?"
"I blinked, and it was over."
"That was one strike…"
"One attack. He ended it with one attack."
"So fast."
"That was… amazing."
Shen Junming didn't respond to the praise. He walked on, calm and unhurried, as if this moment had always been part of the plan.
Last night…
After he consumed the pill.
He had been lying in the wooden bed, restless.
The floorboard under his bed was loose.
Curious, he lifted it.
Inside was a dusty wooden box, wrapped in cloth. Within the box sat a small scroll, old but untouched. Words burned into the cover glowed faintly: Shen Clan's Swift Sword Art (High-Grade Technique).
He blinked.
"A High-Grade Technique?"
Memories surfaced. The original Shen Junming had planned to sell this for pocket change.
"To sell something like this..."
He laughed. The sound was sharp, filled with anger.
"He wanted to sell this high-grade technique for some penny change. Now I understand why he's third-rate."
He touched the scroll.
The system appeared at once.
Would you like to absorb this technique?
Item: Swift Sword Art (High-Grade)
Efficiency: 100%
Junming smiled.
"Yes. Why not."
Light wrapped around him.
Sword knowledge surged through his mind. Footwork, breathing, timing, control. Everything flowed into him like it had always been there.
He opened his eyes.
"Perfect."
Back to the present…
The referee, a tall young man with serious eyes and a black robe, stepped forward. He was the Eldest Disciple of the Outer Court.
His voice was clear.
"Winner Shen Junming."
The crowd clapped, though many were still stunned. Liang Chen stood stiff, as if still trapped in the moment his sword broke.
The referee turned to him.
"Liang Chen," he said with a respectful tone, "unfortunately, you have failed. You may return next year to try again."
His expression held sympathy, but the words followed the rules.
Liang Chen's eyes finally moved. His jaw trembled.
Suddenly, from the back, a figure shot into the air. A gust of wind followed as a woman flew over the crowd.
She wore a tight, violet robe that showed her figure clearly. Her black hair was tied into a high ponytail. Her eyes were sharp, and her lips pressed into a calm, unreadable line.
She walked with clear authority.
It was Elder Mei Yulan, one of the Outer Court's Elders. Her violet robe marked her as someone with status. Her beauty drew glances from many young disciples, but her aura kept them quiet.
She spoke coldly.
"Liang Chen will not be disqualified."
The referee turned. "Elder Mei, but he—"
"Silence," she said.
Her voice cut through the air like a blade. She stepped onto the stage.
She swept her gaze across the platform, then the crowd.
Pressure rolled off her body like waves. The weaker disciples had to step back.
The referee frowned. "But the rules—"
"I will take Liang Chen in as my direct disciple," she said. "Does anyone here dare object?"
The entire courtyard fell silent.
The other elders looked away. No one dared speak.
Everyone knew Elder Mei was the niece of the Sect Leader. Her words carried weight, and none wanted to offend her.
The referee lowered his head.
Junming stepped forward.
He bowed respectfully.
"Elder Mei, with all due respect…"
Her eyes snapped to him, cold and piercing.
"…isn't it a bit unfair?"
The crowd stirred.
"Unfair?" Mei Yulan's voice darkened.
Junming met her gaze calmly.
"The rules are clear. Anyone who fails in the sparring match must be eliminated and can only reapply the following year. We all accepted that before coming here."
Murmurs rose again.
"He's right."
"Those are the rules."
"Even if she's an Elder, can she just ignore them?"
Elder Mei narrowed her eyes.
"So what?"
She raised her hand.
Her spiritual energy exploded outward like a wave.
Junming's body shook. He felt like his skin was being peeled off. His knees threatened to buckle.
But he didn't fall.
His sword hummed at his side.
He gritted his teeth. He would not kneel.
"I… I have a suggestion," he shouted through clenched teeth. "Please… listen, Elder!"
Her pressure halted.
The pain vanished.
She stared at him.
"Say it quickly. Don't waste my time."
The crowd leaned forward.
Junming straightened his back.
His eyes flashed.