The arena had never been this loud.
From the outer stands to the highest platforms reserved for instructors and visiting guild representatives, every seat was filled. Students who had once treated the tournant as nothing more than a stepping stone now sat in complete silence or erupting bursts of anticipation, their eyes locked onto the battlefield below. The air itself seed charged, as if even the atmosphere understood that what was about to unfold would not simply decide a winner—it would define the strongest among them.
At the highest viewing platform, Yan Honglie stood with his hands clasped behind his back, his gaze steady and sharp. Around him, several guild scouts whispered among themselves, their earlier composure long gone. They were no longer casually observing prospects; they were watching for soone who could shake the balance of future power.
"The Laborer... Lin Yi."
"The S-Rank Stormblade... Chen."
"Two extres."
Yan Honglie’s lips curved faintly. "No," he said quietly. "Not extres. One is a storm... the other is sothing the storm cannot reach."
Below, the instructor stepped onto the arena once more. His presence, though familiar, carried a heavier weight now.
"Students," Instructor Han’s voice rang out, cutting through the rising noise, "the final match of the Jianghe Hunter Academy Tournant... will now begin."
The arena held its breath.
"Lin Yi."
A pause.
"Chen."
"Step forward."
From opposite ends of the arena, they walked.
Lin Yi moved as he always did—calm, unhurried, his steps light yet firm. There was no tension in his body, no visible excitent, only a quiet certainty that seed to press outward with every step he took.
Chen, on the other hand, walked with a different presence. His aura wasn’t explosive like Tang Yue’s nor refined like Shen Ryu’s—it was sharp, constantly shifting, like a storm waiting to break. His eyes were focused, locked onto Lin Yi from the mont he stepped onto the battlefield.
The distance between them closed.
Ten ters.
Five.
Three.
They stopped.
The crowd fell silent.
Chen exhaled slowly, then smiled.
"...So we finally et here."
His voice was calm, but there was sothing beneath it—anticipation, excitent, perhaps even relief.
Lin Yi looked at him.
No reply.
Chen didn’t seem bothered.
"If I’m being honest..." he continued, rolling his shoulders slightly, "...I’ve been looking forward to this more than anything else."
His gaze sharpened.
"Ever since you broke my record."
A faint ripple passed through the crowd. That mont—Cheng’s one-second victory—had once been the peak of the tournant. Now, it felt like a distant mory.
Chen lifted his hand, as spiritual energy began to gather.
"You know..." he said, his voice lowering slightly, "...they all say you are a monster."
He paused for a brief mont, as a faint smile spread across his face.
"...But I have never believed in monsters."
The energy around him began to surge violently.
"I only believe in power."
BOOM!
A burst of force exploded outward as his aura fully released. Wind spiraled around his body, sharp currents slicing across the arena floor as his weapon appeared in his hand—a sleek blade wrapped in crackling currents of energy.
"Stormblade Swordsman," soone in the crowd whispered.
"S-Rank..."
Chen took a step forward.
"And I want to see... just how far yours goes."
Lin Yi’s hand moved.
The Celestial Lord Blade slid free.
And the mont it appeared, the world seed to dim.
A deeper, heavier pressure spread outward, swallowing the sharp energy of Chen’s storm as if sothing far older had entered the field.
Even the wind hesitated.
The crowd reacted instantly.
"That weapon again..."
"It feels even stronger now..."
Yan Honglie’s eyes narrowed slightly.
"...Interesting."
The instructor raised his hand.
"Final match—"
A pause.
"Begin!"
Chen moved first.
BOOM!
The ground beneath him cracked as he shot forward, his body wrapped in spiraling wind. His blade cut through the air, leaving behind streaks of compressed currents that distorted everything around them.
"Storm Step!"
In an instant, he vanished from sight.
The next mont—
He appeared at Lin Yi’s side.
SLASH!
The blade ca down fast—faster than anything he had shown before.
Lin Yi moved.
CLANG!
The Celestial Lord Blade t the strike cleanly.
The impact sent a shockwave across the arena, dust rising in a circular wave as the force spread outward.
Chen didn’t stop.
His body twisted mid-motion, his blade reversing direction instantly.
A second strike.
Then a third.
Then a fourth.
Each faster than the last.
Each carrying the cutting force of compressed wind.
CLANG! CLANG! CLANG!
The clashes rang out rapidly now, the rhythm far more intense than Lin Yi’s previous battles. Sparks flew with every collision, the air itself trembling under the continuous exchange.
The crowd leaned forward.
"This is different!"
"He’s actually keeping up!"
"No... he’s pushing him!"
Chen’s movents were relentless. Unlike Shen Ryu’s controlled flow, his style was aggressive, explosive, constantly accelerating. Every strike added pressure, every movent designed to overwhelm.
"Don’t just stand there!" Chen shouted, his voice cutting through the storm as his blade flashed again. "Fight properly!"
Lin Yi’s eyes narrowed slightly.
Then—
He stepped forward.
The shift was subtle.
But imdiate.
CLANG!
Their blades collided again—but this ti, the force reversed.
Chen’s body jerked slightly as the impact pushed back against him.
His eyes sharpened.
"...There it is."
He grinned.
"Good!"
His aura surged again.
"Storm Art—Second Form!"
The wind around him exploded outward, forming visible currents that twisted and coiled like living things. His speed increased again—beyond what he had shown before.
He vanished.
Reappeared behind Lin Yi.
SLASH!
Then to the side.
SLASH!
Then above.
SLASH!
Multiple strikes ca from different directions almost simultaneously, each one backed by enhanced speed and force.
The crowd gasped.
"That speed—!"
"He’s everywhere!"
But—
CLANG! CLANG! CLANG!
Every strike was blocked.
Lin Yi’s blade moved faster now, his posture shifting slightly as he matched the increased tempo. His movents were still efficient, still controlled—but no longer passive.
Chen’s grin widened.
"Yes!"
"That’s it!"
"This is what I wanted!"
He pushed harder.
Faster.
Stronger.
The storm intensified, the arena floor cracking under the pressure of their movents. Wind currents tore through the space between them, whipping dust and debris into the air.
Yet—
Lin Yi remained steady.
Like a mountain standing against a hurricane.
Chen felt it.
That difference.
That gap.
But instead of fear—
Excitent burned brighter.
"...So this is the wall I have to break."
He leapt back suddenly, creating distance.
His breathing had deepened slightly.
But his eyes were blazing.
"Then let’s see..."
His blade rose, as the storm around him condensed.
"...if I can cut through it."
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