Silence engulfed the arena.
The atmosphere was so tense that even breathing sounded loud.
Zhou Yan stood at the center of the platform, the dark blade in his hand reflecting a cold gleam under the sunlight. The aura of a late stage Qi Conjunction cultivator spread outward without restraint, pressing down on many nearby disciples.
Opposite him—
Fang Lin stood calmly.
Unarmed.
His robes fluttered lightly in the wind, his expression tranquil as though he wasn't facing someone vastly stronger.
That calmness irritated Zhou Yan.
"You still want to pretend?" Zhou Yan sneered.
Fang Lin looked at him quietly.
"Are you done talking?"
The crowd instantly stirred.
"He's provoking him…"
"Does he have some hidden confidence?"
Zhou Yan laughed coldly.
"Good."
"Then don't blame me later."
The moment his words fell—
He moved.
Fast.
Far faster than before.
The blade cut through the air with a sharp whistle as Zhou Yan slashed directly toward Fang Lin's chest.
Gasps erupted from the crowd.
But Fang Lin—
Moved.
Flowing Wind Steps.
His figure shifted sideways like a drifting leaf.
The blade narrowly missed him.
Zhou Yan's eyes narrowed.
"So you did improve."
He twisted his wrist instantly and followed with another slash.
Fang Lin retreated lightly.
Again.
And again.
Each movement was precise.
Minimal.
Efficient.
The crowd gradually became stunned.
"He dodged…"
"All of them…"
"His movement technique…"
Even some senior disciples frowned.
"This speed… that's already basic mastery."
On the elevated platform, Feng Jiu'er's tense expression eased slightly.
"At least you're not completely stupid…"
But her gaze remained fixed.
Because she knew—
This was only the beginning.
-----
Zhou Yan's attacks became faster.
The blade sliced repeatedly through the air, forcing Fang Lin backward across the arena.
Each strike carried powerful Qi fluctuations.
The arena floor cracked in several places under the force.
Fang Lin's eyes remained calm.
His spiritual sense spread outward, capturing every detail.
The angle of the blade.
The flow of Qi.
The shift in Zhou Yan's muscles before each strike.
Everything became clear.
And because of that—
He avoided every attack by the smallest margin possible.
The crowd slowly fell silent.
What began as confidence in Zhou Yan started turning into shock.
"He hasn't landed a single hit…"
"How is Fang Lin reacting so quickly?"
Zhou Yan's expression darkened further.
He suddenly stepped forward heavily and slashed downward.
Boom!
The ground exploded.
Dust surged upward.
"Did he get hit?!"
Xuo Mu's heart nearly jumped out of his chest.
But then—
A figure emerged from the dust.
Fang Lin.
Completely unharmed.
His Flowing Wind Steps carried him several meters away effortlessly.
Zhou Yan's eyes flickered with killing intent.
"You really know how to run."
Fang Lin finally spoke.
"If your blade can't hit me, whose fault is that?"
The crowd instantly erupted.
"He actually mocked Zhou Yan…"
"He's insane…"
Zhou Yan's face twisted slightly.
The ridicule around him felt unbearable.
A late stage cultivator.
Using a weapon.
Unable to even touch an unarmed middle stage cultivator.
His pride could no longer endure it.
"You're courting death!"
Boom!
Qi erupted from Zhou Yan violently.
His aura intensified.
The blade in his hand began emitting faint dark light.
The pressure around the arena immediately increased.
Several weaker disciples stepped backward instinctively.
"That weapon…"
"He's actually using its full power…"
"This is bad…"
High above, Elder Feng frowned slightly.
"He's going too far."
The Sect Master remained calm.
"Not yet."
But his gaze—
Had sharpened.
-----
Zhou Yan disappeared from sight.
His speed increased explosively.
This time—
Even the crowd struggled to follow.
Fang Lin's eyes narrowed instantly.
Danger.
Without hesitation, he activated Flowing Wind Steps to the limit.
A sharp blade flashed past his shoulder.
Rip!
His sleeve tore apart.
A thin line of blood appeared on his arm.
The crowd gasped.
"He finally hit him!"
Zhou Yan appeared several meters away with a cold smile.
"You can bleed after all."
Fang Lin glanced at the wound briefly.
Minor.
But—
That strike had been dangerous.
Very dangerous.
If his reaction was slower by even a fraction—
That attack would've crippled him.
Fang Lin slowly raised his head.
His eyes—
Changed.
The calmness remained.
But now—
There was coldness within it.
-----
Feng Jiu'er's fingers tightened slightly.
"That bastard…"
Her gaze locked onto Zhou Yan.
She could already feel it.
The killing intent.
This was no longer about humiliation.
Zhou Yan genuinely wanted to cripple Fang Lin.
Or worse.
She bit her lip lightly.
"Don't hold back anymore…"
-----
Back in the arena—
Zhou Yan raised his blade again.
"You should've knelt earlier."
Fang Lin exhaled softly.
Then—
He moved.
Not backward.
Forward.
The crowd's eyes widened.
"He's charging in?!"
Zhou Yan sneered.
"Finally gave up running?"
He slashed directly toward Fang Lin.
Fast.
Deadly.
But at the last moment—
Fang Lin's body shifted strangely.
Flowing Wind Steps.
Intermediate mastery.
His figure slipped past the blade like flowing water.
Zhou Yan's pupils shrank.
Too fast.
Fang Lin appeared directly within Zhou Yan's range.
His palm—
Already glowing faintly with compressed Qi.
Wind Break Palm.
Zhou Yan's expression changed instantly.
But it was too late.
Fang Lin struck.
Boom!
The compressed Qi exploded outward violently.
A heavy shockwave burst from Zhou Yan's chest.
His body was blasted backward several meters before crashing heavily onto the arena floor.
The entire arena froze.
Complete silence.
Zhou Yan coughed violently, his face filled with disbelief.
His chest felt numb.
The crowd stared blankly.
"He… hit Zhou Yan…"
"With one strike…"
Even Li Shan's eyes flickered slightly.
"That technique…"
High above, Elder Feng narrowed his eyes.
"Wind Break Palm."
The Sect Master smiled faintly.
"So that girl really gave it to him."
Elder Feng coughed awkwardly.
Meanwhile—
Feng Jiu'er's tense expression finally loosened slightly.
Then she immediately frowned again.
"Hmph."
"Making me worry for nothing."
But the slight relief in her eyes—
Couldn't be hidden completely.
-----
Back in the arena—
Zhou Yan slowly stood up.
His face twisted.
Humiliation.
Shock.
Anger.
All mixed together.
"You…"
His voice trembled slightly.
Fang Lin stood calmly.
The Qi around his palm slowly dissipated.
His gaze remained cold.
"You talk too much."
The crowd's hearts shook violently.
No one expected this.
No one.
A middle stage Qi Conjunction cultivator—
Had just forced back a late stage cultivator wielding a middle grade weapon.
And for the first time—
The confidence surrounding Zhou Yan's side…
Began to crack.