"A 40-point difference in life force index—that’s no small gap."
"The betting is open! Odds are 1.5 for a Ba Yan victory, and 2.2 for Qin Feng!"
In an instant, the entire coliseum and all its spectators were divided into two distinct camps.
One camp was comprised of Ba Yan’s loyal supporters.
They believed that in the face of an absolute gap in Hard Power, all skill was futile.
points versus 532, plus two Second-level Perfection Killing Techniques—this battle held no suspense.
"Senior Ba Yan is sure to win! He’s the pride of our Celestial Martial Association!"
"Qin Feng may be strong, but he’s ultimately too young. Facing a battle-hardened veteran like Senior Ba Yan, his dark horse run ends here."
The other camp consisted of the die-hard fans who had been completely won over by Qin Feng’s string of upset victories and his continuous, miracle-like performances.
They were convinced that this man was born to defy convention.
"Bullshit! Qin Feng of the Control Realm is sure to win!"
Xiong Yanfu led a crowd of supporters, arguing heatedly in the stands.
anwhile, the betting volus on all the major boards were skyrocketing at an unprecedented rate.
Interestingly, although Qin Feng was more popular, when it ca to betting with real money, most people rationally chose Ba Yan, who seed to have the advantage in terms of power.
From the stands, Xiong Yanfu watched the ever-changing betting data, his eyes narrowing to slits as he grinned.
’Yes, yes, perfect. Go on, bet on Ba Yan! The more, the better! You’ll all be crying your eyes out soon enough!’
Lei ng and Tiemu, however, stared nervously at the platform where the fight was about to begin, their palms already drenched in sweat.
They knew this would be the most difficult battle Qin Feng had faced since the competition began!
If he won, Qin Feng would enter the top three and earn a reward of 3,000 Contribution Points!
But if he lost, he’d have to settle for fourth place and a re 1,000 Contribution Points.
With all eyes fixed on the spot, on the grand central platform in Area A-01—a stage symbolizing the highest honor.
Two figures slowly materialized in a flash of teleportation light.
On one side was Qin Feng.
He was still dressed in his black light armor, once again wielding the Level 4 Alloy Long Spear he was most familiar with.
His expression was calm, as always, his gaze as deep as an old well.
On the other side was his opponent, Ba Yan.
He was tall with a rugged face, clad in a suit of Heavy Battle Armor. Strapped across his back in a cross were a Horse-Slaying Saber of astonishing length and an imnsely heavy broadsword.
He stood there like an unmovable mountain, brimming with a sense of power.
In contrast to the roaring crowd, the atmosphere on the platform was unusually serene.
Ba Yan looked at Qin Feng across from him, a gentle, sowhat wistful smile appearing on his rugged face.
"Junior."
He spoke slowly, his voice resonant and magnetic. "We et again."
Ba Yan’s gentle and wistful greeting acted like a cool breeze, dispersing the tense, sword-point atmosphere on the grand central platform.
Upon hearing this, an expression of sincere respect appeared on Qin Feng’s face as well.
He still rembered clearly how three years ago, during the promotion battles for their master’s disciples, it had been this very senior before him who pointed him toward the path of "enriching his arsenal of killing techniques."
"Senior Ba Yan."
Qin Feng nodded slightly, then balled his right hand into a fist, brought it to his chest, and offered Ba Yan a standard Imperial Army salute.
This was the highest form of etiquette between Martial Artists before a formal duel, an expression of both respect and resolve.
Seeing this, a flash of approval crossed Ba Yan’s eyes. He raised his arm as well, returning the gesture with an impeccable military salute.
With the formalities complete.
The atmosphere between the two grew sharp once more.
"Junior Qin Feng,"
Ba Yan’s gaze swept over Qin Feng, as if it were a tangible scanner. His voice was filled with undisguised amazent. "Honestly, you are the fastest-improving Martial Artist I have ever seen. No one else even cos close."
"I still rember, three years ago in a private duel under Master Yu Han, you couldn’t even block a single one of my casual strikes."
He paused, a wry smile touching his lips—a complex emotion, a mixture of pride and the resigned feeling of being surpassed by the generation coming up behind him.
"And now, only three years later, you not only stand before , but you have earned the right to challenge as an equal. This level of talent, this speed of growth... it is truly unprecedented."
"You give too much credit, Senior."
Qin Feng’s voice remained calm. "I wouldn’t be here today without your guidance back then, Senior."
"Haha, that was a small thing."
Ba Yan let out a hearty laugh. In the next instant, his gentle gaze turned incredibly sharp, like a priceless sword being drawn from its scabbard!
An aura as heavy as a mountain erupted from his body!
He slowly reached out, his hand closing around the hilt of the enormous Horse-Slaying Saber on his back.
"But, Junior Qin Feng, I should tell you up front."
"This ti will be the sa as the last."
He spoke one word at a ti, his voice resounding across the platform.
"I won’t be holding anything back!"
SHIIIIING—!!!
A deafening screech of tal on tal resounded to the heavens!
He had drawn the massive Horse-Slaying Saber—a blade over three ters long and as wide as a door panel!
Silver light flowed across the blade’s surface as a terrifyingly domineering Blade Intent, one that seed powerful enough to split the heavens and the earth, surged skyward!
"Co on!"
Ba Yan held the blade in one hand, its tip angled toward the ground, as he issued his invitation to battle to Qin Feng.
"Let see with my own eyes just how astoundingly you’ve grown these past three years!"
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