No martial artist was willing to give up on themselves. As long as there remained even the slightest glimmer of hope on the path of martial cultivation, no one was willing to surrender it.
Gan Ning was no exception. Being struck down directly by Xiahou Zong had left him feeling as though his entire dantian and qi furnace had been destroyed — and that was why he had fallen into such despair, ready to abandon all hope.
But now, hearing Jiang Chen's words and considering the latter's heaven-defying, soul-stirring talent in alchemy, a desperate desire to live suddenly blazed back to life in Gan Ning's eyes.
Jiang Chen nodded firmly. "When have I, Shao, ever spoken a lie? Take this pill and rest well. After the Sword Summit concludes, I'll find a way to restore you to full health. And everything Xiahou Zong did to you — I will return in kind!"
Gan Ning's expression turned urgent upon hearing this. "You mustn't! When you face Xiahou Zong, you absolutely cannot let your temper get the better of you and fight him head-on. His hatred for you runs far deeper than his hatred for us. What he did to me was merely displaced anger. What he'll do to you will be outright venting — he'll want to chop you into mincemeat. If you fight him to the death, you'll be playing right into his hands!"
Gan Ning was desperate. The last time he had crossed paths with Jiang Chen, they had been fairly evenly matched. As a result, Gan Ning believed he had a clear picture of Jiang Chen's strength.
Even if Jiang Chen had improved significantly in recent times, the gap between him and Xiahou Zong was simply too vast to be bridged in a short period.
Jiang Chen offered a faint smile but said nothing more. He placed the pill into Gan Ning's palm and gently patted the back of his hand. "Don't worry. I know what I'm doing."
Gan Ning closed his eyes and let out a long sigh. "If I told you to give up, told you to concede, then you wouldn't be Shao Yuan anymore. Very well — I have just one piece of advice. Protect yourself. Protect yourself, and don't give him any opportunity to put you down for good."
Xiahou Zong had become Gan Ning's nightmare. Gan Ning had always considered himself one of the top geniuses of the Eternal Divine Kingdom.
But after fighting Xiahou Zong, he had learned what a truly elite genius looked like. Saying it was like an adult beating a child might be a slight exaggeration.
Yet when facing Xiahou Zong, Gan Ning had genuinely felt as though his limbs were bound. Xiahou Zong's moves didn't even appear that overwhelming at first glance.
However, there was always a terrifying restraining force woven between Xiahou Zong's techniques — as if he could effortlessly command the entire flow of battle, reducing Gan Ning's attacks to less than a tenth of their true power.
With nothing more than casual gestures, Xiahou Zong had seized complete control of Gan Ning's rhythm on both offense and defense.
This kind of dominance could only be possessed by an opponent with an absolutely overwhelming advantage.
Though Gan Ning hated Xiahou Zong to the bone for his ruthlessness, he had to admit that he had truly been powerless against him, completely unable to unfold his full strength.
The gap was simply too enormous.
The Great Sacred Chief entered at this moment, his expression clouded. It was clear that he, too, was simmering with anger.
Gan Ning was one of the Five Young Lords, after all — a top-tier genius of the Eternal Sacred Land. Xiahou Zong's brutality was something the Great Sacred Chief, who was fiercely protective of his own, could not possibly take lightly.
Earlier, the Great Sacred Chief had gone to confront the Marquis of Freedom, warning him to rein in Xiahou Zong's excesses.
The Marquis of Freedom had simply chuckled. "Great Sacred Chief, when I paid my visit last time, I already told you that once Xiahou Zong's fury is ignited, even I cannot foresee the consequences. He strikes hard — what would you have me do? I can hardly tell him to hold back. This is a martial tournament; we can't exactly expect him to go easy, can we?"
The Marquis had spoken with exaggerated amusement.
That laughter had sounded exceptionally grating in the Great Sacred Chief's ears.
Though the Marquis's words were arrogant, there was a grain of truth to them. The Genius Sword Summit had no rules prohibiting injury.
In some cases, even deaths were not unheard of. No one could guarantee that the arena would remain free of casualties.
If one was afraid, one should simply not participate.
The Great Sacred Chief had returned to his own quarters with a belly full of fury.
In truth, he saw the situation with perfect clarity. Seeing the morale of the Eternal Sacred Land so thoroughly crushed, his heart ached as well.
"If any of you encounter that beast Xiahou Zong and find yourselves outmatched, do not stubbornly cling on — concede on your own. I will not blame you for it."
"Hmph! That beast has gone too far!"
The young geniuses were all seething with righteous indignation.
The Great Sacred Chief waved his hand, his gaze settling on Jiang Chen with a note of melancholy. He spoke with earnest gravity. "Shao Yuan, Xiahou Zong's hostility toward you is likely even greater. If you face him, remember above all..."
Jiang Chen gave a calm nod. "Rest easy, Great Sacred Chief. I know what I'm doing."
Jiang Chen understood that any bold declarations now would ring hollow. Say too much, and he would only invite disdain.
Yan Qingsang, though confident by nature, knew full well that he was nowhere near Xiahou Zong's level. He let out a soft sigh. "Fine. I'm no match for that bastard anyway."
That evening, the morale of the entire Eternal Sacred Land had sunk to rock bottom.
Only four of their geniuses had advanced to the round of thirty-two — a paltry showing given the Sacred Land's standing.
Even Jiang Chen couldn't shake the feeling that the organizers were deliberately working to weaken the Eternal Sacred Land's strength.