"Lin Tian, I wonder if you still have enough points this time," Gao Zhenhao sneered, fixing his gaze on Lin Tian.
Before him, the numbers on his points tally surged violently, finally settling at a staggering 750,000. A hint of pride gleamed in Gao's eyes.
Seven hundred and fifty thousand—such a sum would challenge even an inner disciple, let alone an outer disciple like Lin Tian. To possess that many points seemed impossible.
Yet, as Gao's eyes narrowed in contemptuous mockery, he caught sight of the numbers behind Lin Tian surging as well. They, too, climbed steadily, eventually pausing at 750,000.
"This… how is this possible?" Gao Zhenhao was utterly flabbergasted. He had borrowed tokens from multiple outer disciples, even securing Zhao Zhenjie's inner disciple token, just to amass his 750,000 points. And yet, Lin Tian's points had not yet reached a ceiling. Could it be that Lin Tian, an outer disciple, had accumulated more than 750,000 points? The very thought was incomprehensible.
"Sorry… my token just happens to contain a little more than usual," Lin Tian said casually, a faint smile on his lips. Gao could only roll his eyes in disbelief. This young man—was he trying to show off, or flaunt his arrogance?
"Lin Tian, today I miscalculated," Gao Zhenhao said coldly, a hint of menace in his eyes. He could no longer summon any more points. Yet even if he failed to expel Lin Tian, claiming those points alone wouldn't be a total loss. And the Bounty Match could be requested again in a month.
In Gao's view, Lin Tian's points would only ensure he remained within the Xuanwu Sect for another month.
"But today, all these points are mine," Gao Zhenhao declared, his expression hardening. In his hand, a longsword gleamed, its icy steel catching the light.
The moment the sword was drawn, the outer disciples' eyes lit up with envy. Within the Artifact Peak, the Coldwater Sword was renowned.
Forged from a millennium-old iron refinement, its material alone was precious, and its power was formidable. Though the sword was only a Foundation Stage Three spiritual weapon, its might rivaled many Foundation Stage Five weapons.
When swung, the Coldwater Sword exuded an innate chill, even affecting the flow of a cultivator's spiritual energy. Facing such a weapon, Lin Tian's odds of victory were perilously low.
"Unbelievable… your master is so generous," Lin Tian murmured, astonished. He had not expected Gao Zhenhao's teacher to entrust him with such a rare millennium iron refinement.
Gripping his Spirit Gun tightly, Lin Tian's eyes betrayed a shadow of apprehension. Before the duel, he had hurried to enhance the Spirit Gun's potency.
Yet against the Coldwater Sword, even the upgraded Spirit Gun seemed inadequate. Initially, he had believed Gao's capabilities, though impressive, would be matched by a weapon of Foundation Stage Four. With the Spirit Gun, victory would have been within his grasp. But now, facing Gao's Coldwater Sword, success seemed contingent on sheer luck.
Raising the Spirit Gun to adjust its energy output, Lin Tian froze. The gun's spiritual liquid had vanished entirely.
"You little rascal, what have you done?" Lin Tian exclaimed, staring at the essence perched innocently on his shoulder. After taming this spirit, he had even named it. Trusting it fully, he had never imagined it would absorb all the Spirit Gun's spiritual liquid.
Lin Tian's confidence in this duel had already been tenuous. With the Spirit Gun drained, he could almost foresee the inevitable outcome.
Staring at the essence's innocent expression, Lin Tian could barely restrain the urge to scold it. "I cultivated you with all my effort, and now at this critical moment, you undermine me?"
If one were to describe Lin Tian's mood, "desperation" would top the list. He had believed victory was assured, yet Gao's weapon exceeded all expectations.
Even so, a sliver of hope remained. The Spirit Gun's liquid had been absorbed by the very essence he had nurtured, leaving Lin Tian with a faint sense of potential advantage.
Though the match could not yet force him to forfeit his disciple token, the thought of relinquishing 750,000 points—earned through immense effort—was agonizing. His heart bled at the prospect.
"I warn you, if I lose today, you won't see a drop of spiritual liquid from me," he muttered. Attempting to seize the essence, Lin Tian realized it was intangible—he could neither strike nor destroy it without hesitation. The complexity of his emotions was profound.
At that moment, the little spirit leapt from Lin Tian's shoulder and darted toward Gao Zhenhao.
"Lin Tian, what are you muttering to yourself? If you wish to surrender, step down. No need to waste my time," Gao Zhenhao called, exasperated.
He had summoned Lin Tian for a duel, not for idle theatrics.
Lin Tian's eyes flickered with confusion. Could Gao not see the little spirit? Yet there was no time to ponder. Gao Zhenhao had already swung the Coldwater Sword.