Under the watchful eyes of Dongning Prefecture's Five Great Families, the Eight Great Academies, and other spectators, the white-clad youth calmly stepped onto the arena, a sword strapped to his back. His hands clasped behind him, but within the scabbard were two swords.
He drew both, one in each hand, pointing their blades slightly downward, icy eyes locked on the tiger demon.
"Another little one," the tiger demon twitched, its face marked with a scar, more than ten wounds across its body, the deep gash in its lower abdomen especially prominent.
"Kill."
Refusing to hesitate, it lunged directly.
The white-clad youth met the charge head-on, both swords in a synchronized defense.
Bang!Bang!Bang!
The tiger demon and Yan Jin clashed squarely. The demon seemed stronger, faster, and more powerful, yet its advantage appeared limited. The youth's twin swords—one Yin, one Yang—channeled pressure: as one blade was suppressed, its force accumulated and released through the other. The stronger the pressure, the greater the counterattack.
Pure, raw, head-to-head combat ensued.
It was clear the white-clad youth's swordsmanship had reached the Unified Stage, his techniques superior; the tiger demon frequently suffered fresh cuts.
"This boy's swordsmanship… has reached the Unified Stage. Not inferior to Meng Chuan," one elder remarked.
"And he must have innate divine strength, otherwise he could never match a tiger demon in raw power."
"So small and youthful… and already divine strength?"
Whispers of astonishment spread.
Even Meng Chuan was surprised. Among humans, extraordinary cases existed: some were born with exceptional strength or speed. His fellow disciple, Wan Mang, had divine strength even at Zhusui Stage, rivaling the Zhutai Stage. But someone like Yan Jin—slight, youthful, yet born with divine strength—was truly rare.
Harnessing Unified Stage mastery, body and mind in harmony, his power surged to eighty percent of the tiger demon's peak; his speed to seventy or eighty percent. Twin-sword techniques left him undiminished, striking the demon relentlessly.
"Roar~~~" The tiger demon's furious bellow lit up its black-and-red fur. Its claws grew more fearsome; the Demon King bloodline erupted anew!
Boom!
A deafening crash.
Yan Jin's twin swords intercepted simultaneously, his body blasted backward several steps, a faint trail of blood at the mouth, yet he stood firm, eyes icy as he stared at the demon.
"Daring to resist head-on?" Meng Chuan watched in surprise. "True, the tiger demon's Demon King bloodline could overwhelm me. But against Yan Jin, its advantage diminishes. And Yan Jin's swordsmanship clearly excels at neutralizing force."
"Hm?" The tiger demon growled in disbelief, preparing another fierce lunge.
Puh!
The huge lower-abdomen wound, under full exertion, could no longer contain the damage. It split open, blood spraying; other wounds began bleeding more freely.
Yan Jin surged forward, twin swords cutting relentlessly.
"Damn… if only that first youth hadn't injured me so severely." The tiger demon seethed, its other wounds shallow, but the deep abdominal cut limited its power surge. At full health, it would have preferred to fight the white-clad youth directly.
Although the human's body was strong and combat brutal, it did not intimidate the tiger demon. Only the previous swordsman—slippery, fast, elusive—had inflicted such heavy damage.
Puh, puh, puh!
Too wounded to fully unleash its Demon King bloodline, the tiger demon could barely resist, its strikes weaker and slower. Yan Jin dominated, leaving more wounds with every clash.
"When I was captured alive by human Godfiends… I knew this day would come," the tiger demon thought. As the final strike approached, it offered no resistance.
Puh.
A sword pierced its brow, cleaving through the skull.
The tiger demon was dead.
It failed to survive ten rounds—two rounds sufficed for its demise, at the hands of two Zhusui Stage youths.
"Killed it…" Silence fell among the spectators.
Yan Jin sheathed his swords and stepped down.
"Yan Jin of Yu Yang Palace, not continuing?" the magistrate asked. By rule, a victor remaining on the arena would face stronger demons.
The youth said nothing, returning to his place.
The magistrate sighed. Walking down was a clear sign of forfeiture. Soldiers carried off the tiger demon's body, preparing the next demon.
"Hm?" Meng Chuan noticed Yan Jin stopping in the Mirror Lake Academy area. The youth turned to him, voice cold: "If you hadn't wounded it earlier, its speed would've been thirty percent faster, and it could have maintained its Demon King bloodline longer. I'd have only been able to flee." Then he returned to sit beside the Yu Yang Palace Master.
His words were cold; from stepping onto the arena to sitting down, he had spoken only this one sentence, to Meng Chuan.
"Yan Jin… from start to finish, only said this one thing—and to Meng Chuan," Wan Mang exclaimed.
"Indeed," Bai Guan nodded. "From stepping on to stepping down, that's it… quite cold."
Meng Chuan was curious. He sensed Yan Jin's innate pride, his aura as if he were ancient ice, indifferent to all others. Even the magistrate's question drew no response, yet he spoke to Meng Chuan—clearly refusing to take advantage of him.
"This Yan Jin looks very young… perhaps even younger than Meng Chuan?" Meng Family Patriarch Meng Yanping whispered.
"Not very old," Meng Dajiang said. "Such talent, yet still at Zhusui Stage. Probably no older than fourteen or fifteen."
With such talent, even without a powerful family backing, the academy would cultivate him fully. Progress would not be slow.
"Here we go," Meng Yanping said, as another demon entered the arena.
"A great demon again, this time a bull demon. Looks like the Yu Yang Palace Master prepared the tiger demon specifically for Meng Chuan and this young Yan Jin," Meng Dajiang said, smiling. The tiger demon was rare, versatile, nearly flawless. If it weren't weakened by hunger, neither Meng Chuan nor Yan Jin could have challenged it.
…
The Zhutai Stage disciples from the Eight Great Academies stepped onto the arena one by one to fight.
Zhutai Stage disciples were generally older, from sixteen to twenty years old. Older? They could no longer remain at the academy and would be drafted.
According to academy rules, Zhusui Stage disciples may train until eighteen; Zhutai Stage until twenty. Wulou Stage? Only one percent of Wulou Stage mastery is enough to leave—the academy has nothing more to teach.
The battles continued, moving into the afternoon.
The twenty-four Zhutai Stage disciples were formidable. Three had discovered secret techniques, giving them a foundation surpassing Meng Chuan and Yan Jin, making their battles even more spectacular. Yet their potential remained lower than Meng Chuan and Yan Jin. Among them, two discovered secret techniques at eighteen, one at nineteen—making their chances of becoming Godfiends far lower.
Meng Chuan's father, Meng Dajiang, and another Meng family member, Meng Zhu, both discovered secret techniques at nineteen, also with slim hope of Godfiend ascension.
Currently in Dongning Prefecture, the top young talent was Mei Yuanzhi, who had discovered Shi (Momentum).
Second was Meng Chuan.
Following them were the three Zhutai Stage disciples with secret techniques.
As for the white-clad youth, Yan Jin, he was likely on par with Meng Chuan, perhaps even superior—likely an outsider, else the Five Great Families would have known of him.
"All Eight Great Academy disciples have finished their battles," the magistrate announced, voice echoing. "Now comes today's final demon-slaying battle."
"Final battle?" Surprised murmurs rose. Meng Chuan listened closely, having assumed the battles had concluded.
The magistrate continued, smiling: "The final battle features Mei Yuanzhi facing a centipede demon refined with a demon core."
"Mei Yuanzhi? So he's acting today as well," Meng Chuan's eyes brightened.