Having escaped the crisis, Yu Zhuo didn't waste a moment. With a flick of her wrist, the soft whip snapped rigid and shot toward the black-clad man's back like a spirit snake emerging from its burrow, its momentum unstoppable.
The black-clad man had already slashed empty air and lost sight of his target. Sensing danger, he spun around without even looking and cleaved his blade downward.
Clang…
The impact rang out as the black-clad man's body swayed slightly before steadying himself, unharmed.
Yu Zhuo, on the other hand, was sent tumbling backward by the massive recoil force, coughing up a mouthful of blood midair before staggering to a landing.
Yang Kai silently clicked his tongue. If Yu Zhuo's cultivation had matched her opponent's, that strike could have sealed the victory right there. But because her realm was a minor stage lower and she had launched her attack hastily, she had squandered a golden opportunity and instead suffered minor injuries from the backlash.
In the span of a heartbeat, both fighters had skirted the edge of defeat. The whole exchange was dazzling — far too fast for the eye to follow.
Yang Kai found himself sitting up straighter. He hadn't expected that the very first bout on the very first day would pit two people like this against each other. He could tell that both Yu Zhuo and the black-clad man were extraordinarily formidable for the Dao Source Realm. Even among the three great supreme powers, they would be considered talents worthy of special nurturing. He had no idea how they had cultivated to reach such depths.
He suddenly realized he might have underestimated the world's Sects. Any Sect that could endure and be passed down for tens of millions of years without falling must have its reasons for surviving. It wasn't only the top-tier powers that could produce exceptional talent.
His thoughts drifted to Luo Yuan of the Eight Directions Sect. Back during the Four Seasons Land trial, that expedition had elevated two people's reputations. One was himself — refining the Myriad Spirit Pill at the Dao Source Realm, a heaven-defying feat that was impossible to overlook. The other was Luo Yuan.
The Eight Directions Sect was a minor power in the Southern Region, not even comparable to the old Jade Feather Sect. Yet Luo Yuan, born of that humble Sect, had not feared Wuchang in the slightest, fighting him head-on without falling far behind. His true strength was plain to see.
Thinking of Luo Yuan, he recalled seeing someone vaguely similar yesterday, though the distance had been too great to get a proper look. He wasn't sure if it had been him.
It very well might have been. The Eight Directions Sect was in the Southern Region after all — there was no reason they wouldn't attend the martial meeting.
While his thoughts drifted, Yu Zhuo and the black-clad man had clashed once more. On the arena platform, their figures wove around each other in a relentless exchange of blade and whip, producing a continuous clatter of ringing strikes.
One fought with fierce, overwhelming momentum. The other countered with agility and speed. They traded blow for blow in an evenly matched stalemate, with neither side gaining a clear advantage. The spectacle drew a growing crowd of onlookers, and before long the area around Arena Eight was packed shoulder to shoulder. Every face was tense as spectators studied the fight, silently wondering how they would fare if they faced either of these two.
Yang Kai watched with genuine interest. If Lingxiao Palace hadn't already ceased recruiting disciples, he might have had Hua Qingsi organize a tournament like this. The format was somewhat tedious, but it was genuinely the best way to identify outstanding talent — though of course, nothing could be guaranteed about one's character and temperament.
After the time it took an incense stick to burn, the black-clad man's expression grew increasingly savage. After all, by his reckoning, his opponent's cultivation was lower — he should have been able to settle this with ease. Yet the girl bouncing around on the platform was proving to be the most challenging foe he had faced thus far, and his pride was taking a hit. His attacks grew ever more ferocious.
Yu Zhuo managed to hold on through quick reflexes and nimble footwork, but the gap in cultivation was an undeniable shortcoming. The fact that she had lasted this long was already remarkable. Winning was virtually impossible. Her twin ponytails had grown disheveled, the ends chopped ragged by her opponent's blade energy, leaving her looking rather worse for wear. Her chest heaved with heavy, labored breathing, fine beads of sweat glistening on her face — yet she clenched her teeth and refused to surrender.
But Yang Kai could clearly see her whip hand trembling ceaselessly. Clashing repeatedly against that massive blade, the tremendous force transmitted through the weapon was far more than she could endure for long.
The black-clad man obviously knew to press his advantage against her weakness, refusing to give Yu Zhuo even a moment's breathing room and forcing her into direct confrontation.
At last, when the great blade met the soft whip one more time, a crisp snap rang out. The whip had been sliced clean in two, the severed end flying off into the distance.
The black-clad man's eyes lit up with triumph. He had been sick of that wretched whip. Now that this Artifact was broken, his opponent had nothing left to fight with. He looked up, his gaze cold and sharp, and saw a flash of panic cross Yu Zhuo's face as she hastily tried to retreat.
But there was no room left to fall back.
"Die!" the black-clad man roared, his blade descending with the certainty of victory.
I've won — finally!
But before that thought could fully form, he suddenly saw the panic vanish from Yu Zhuo's face. A flicker of cunning gleamed in her eyes as her free hand formed a rapid series of seals. Behind him came the sharp whistle of something cutting through the air.
No good! The black-clad man's expression changed. He didn't know what trick Yu Zhuo had pulled, but he had clearly fallen into a trap. It was too late to withdraw now. A flash of brutal determination crossed his face, and he drove his blade down faster, heedless of everything else.
Yu Zhuo desperately raised the broken half of her whip to block, but the full-force strike was too fierce to stop.
The great blade cleaved down from her shoulder, slicing all the way to her abdomen, nearly bisecting her in two. The overwhelming force slammed into her, and she sprayed a mouthful of blood, her body hurtling backward like a tattered sack.
Even as she flew through the air, the seals in her hand shifted once more.
The black-clad man felt his body suddenly constrict, and at last he understood what Yu Zhuo had been doing.