Before Jiang Chen's battle with Xiao Paohui, most of the noble scions in the entire Glass Kingdom City might have been willing to face Pill King Zhen in the Genius Rankings competition.
After all, everyone believed that Pill King Zhen's alchemy talent was extraordinary, but his martial dao talent was probably nothing special — at least on the surface, a cultivation level of Heavenly Saint wasn't all that impressive.
But after that battle with Xiao Paohui, no one thought that way anymore.
On the contrary, these noble scions were each silently praying that they wouldn't be drawn against Pill King Zhen. After witnessing that battle with Xiao Paohui, not a single one of them believed they were any more capable than that burly giant.
Jiang Chen, however, wasn't overthinking any of it — it didn't matter who his opponent was.
"Wandering cultivator Ye Tianzuo versus Pill King Zhen."
Jiang Chen's first-round opponent was drawn. It was a wandering cultivator. The noble scions in the audience collectively breathed a sigh of relief.
At least they wouldn't have to face a monster like Pill King Zhen in the first round.
Ye Tianzuo was lean and thin, his eyes bright and keen, radiating an air of sharp intelligence. But at this moment, his face was etched with resignation.
"Pill King Zhen, though you are powerful, this is a contest of martial dao. Though I know I cannot defeat you, I, Ye, will not give up without giving it everything I have. Please do not take offense for whatever comes."
Ye Tianzuo bowed to Jiang Chen with deep respect — as a wandering cultivator, he held genuine reverence for Pill King Zhen, the foremost alchemist in the Glass Kingdom City.
Jiang Chen's mind remained perfectly still. He returned the bow.
On the arena stage, they were opponents. Regardless of what the other said or how much respect they showed, that was all a matter outside the ring.
On the arena, each of them had only one objective: to defeat their opponent.
Though this opponent was only at the seventh level of the Saint realm, Jiang Chen had no habit of underestimating anyone. The fact that Ye Tianzuo had made it into the Ten Thousand Rising Stars Rankings proved he possessed extraordinary strength.
"Please," Jiang Chen said with a cupped-fist salute.
He was something of a celebrity in the Glass Kingdom City now, and facing a wandering cultivator, Jiang Chen naturally maintained his courtesy, gesturing for the other to strike first.
Ye Tianzuo smiled frankly and said, "Pill King Zhen, these past few years I have traveled the world, comprehending the Dao of the Sword. I came upon a Four Seasons Sword Art and would like you to critique it. This technique has only four moves — if I cannot win within four moves, I, Ye, will immediately concede and continue honing my swordsmanship."
Jiang Chen studied the man for a moment and saw unwavering resolve in his gaze, along with a striking sincerity.
Those eyes reminded Jiang Chen of someone — a man named Feng Pao.
Back during the Myriad Assemblage Grand Ceremony, Jiang Chen had once guided Feng Pao in swordsmanship. Later, when venturing into the barbarian lands, he had saved Feng Pao's life in the imperial capital of the Scarlet Cauldron Central Domain. At the time, Feng Pao and Liu Wencai had been captured and put up for auction as slaves — it was Jiang Chen who freed them.
Now Feng Pao's whereabouts were unknown.
Feng Pao was another man who had gone mad for the Dao of the Sword, someone willing to sacrifice himself at any moment for the sake of the sword. He was the kind of man who used his very life to embody and pursue the way of the blade.
Men like that — even if their strength was modest now, so long as they had not perished, they possessed limitless potential to grow ever stronger.
A swordsman who pursued the Dao of the Sword with such reckless devotion — Jiang Chen had always held men like that in the highest regard.
"The Four Seasons Swordplay." Jiang Chen nodded. "Make your move."
A flash of eagerness lit up in Ye Tianzuo's eyes. He cupped his fists in a salute. "Forgive any offense."
Even as the words left his lips, a three-foot blue blade had already materialized in his hand.
There were no flashy feints or needlessly ornate flourishes. The moment the sword was in Ye Tianzuo's grasp, his entire presence became razor-sharp, as though the very air around him had been honed to a cutting edge.
And this sword — one that had looked plain and unremarkable — suddenly seemed to come alive. Its aura was startling, brimming with vitality, its edge radiating outward without the slightest attempt at concealment.
"The first sword of the Four Seasons Swordplay — the Gentle Sword of Spring."
Sword light surged forth, lingering and intertwining like threads of rain, like a vernal breeze, like willow tendrils swaying in the wind. In an instant, the entire arena was immersed in the essence of spring.
A small pavilion, listening to the spring rain through the night.
This was sword intent.
Powerful sword intent did not always manifest as blinding sharpness or killing intent ten thousand meters deep.
Truly formidable sword intent lay in the realm that the sword itself created. And this Gentle Sword of Spring was clearly such a potent form of intent — because with this single stroke, it had completely taken command of the surrounding atmosphere.
A sword capable of seizing dominion over its environment was the hallmark of a truly masterful technique.
Ordinary swords were crude and blunt — they knew only how to kill, and could never evoke the deeper realm of sword intent. Such blades were fit for dispatching nothing more than low-tier opponents.
Only against truly powerful foes did sword intent matter — only by mastering the surrounding realm and seizing absolute control of the battlefield could one wield an intent that even the strongest cultivators would fear.
In this regard, one had to admit that Ye Tianzuo's sword intent was remarkably successful.
Even Jiang Chen's eyes held a glimmer of appreciation. He could tell that this was genuine sword intent the man had comprehended on his own.
A martial artist who could independently comprehend sword intent and create his own techniques — that was no ordinary swordsman.
Even Jiang Chen, at this point, was using every martial art he had practiced simply as-is, borrowed and applied wholesale. Not a single technique among them was his own creation.
Yet this opponent was wielding self-conceived sword intent and self-crafted sword forms. In that instant, Jiang Chen felt a genuine thrill of admiration.
This was a worthy opponent in every sense.