After the first round ended, Ye Chen did not leave the square.
He found an inconspicuous corner, sat down against the wall, and closed his eyes. He appeared to be resting, but in truth, he was reviewing the battle he had just fought.
Too easy.
It wasn't that he was too strong—it was that his opponent was too weak. That power-type boy, despite his brute strength, fought too crudely, throwing punches purely on instinct without any tactical thought. Such a person wouldn't last three seconds on a real battlefield.
"But the opponents from here on won't be this simple."
Ye Chen opened his eyes and swept his gaze over the children remaining in the square. The first round had eliminated nearly half of them; those who remained all possessed some real ability. He noticed several particularly noteworthy presences—
On the eastern side of the arena, a silver-haired girl stood silently. Within a three-meter radius around her, no one stood. It wasn't that people deliberately avoided her—it was that the cold aura emanating from her made others instinctively keep their distance.
The girl appeared to be about Ye Chen's age, her features exquisitely carved as if from ice and snow. A pair of ice-blue eyes gazed calmly, betraying no emotional fluctuation. She wore a plain white dress, and an ice crystal pendant hung at her waist, glinting coldly in the sunlight.
"Someone from the Luo family of the Northern Domain." Ye Chen's heart stirred.
He had read about the four great families in books. The Luo family of the Northern Icefield passed down the ultimate ice Lingyuan through generations, producing one or two exceptionally gifted heirs each generation. Judging by this girl's bearing and the way others treated her, she was likely no ordinary figure.
On the western side of the arena, Bai Yu was chatting and laughing with a few others. He looked less like he was taking an exam and more like he was attending a gathering. But Ye Chen noticed that his gaze never left the arena—he was carefully observing every match.
"Also someone who pays attention." Ye Chen nodded inwardly.
Near the center of the arena, a stocky boy drew particular attention. He was a full head taller than his peers, his arms thicker than Ye Chen's thighs, standing like an iron tower. His expression was simple and honest, but his eyes were sharp, constantly sizing up the opponents around him.
"Power-type, but different from the first-round opponent." Ye Chen quickly assessed. "This one has brains."
There was also a girl standing at the edge of the crowd, her presence extremely low-key. She wore a plain gray robe, her light golden hair tied in a ponytail, a gentle smile on her face. At first glance, she seemed like an ordinary little girl, but Ye Chen's Spatial Perception told him—this girl was anything but ordinary.
Her Lingyuan fluctuations were unusual—not offensive, but…
"Healing type?" Ye Chen raised an eyebrow slightly.
In this world, healing-type Lingyuan masters were extremely rare and extremely valuable. If he could recruit such a teammate…
"Number thirty-seven versus number eighty-one!"
The referee's voice interrupted Ye Chen's thoughts.
He stood and walked toward the arena.
This time, his opponent was a tall, thin boy with arms longer than average and large, knobby fingers—clearly someone who had trained in some form of fist or palm technique.
"You're unlucky." The tall boy grinned. "I love fighting scrawny guys like you."
Ye Chen did not respond, standing quietly.
The referee raised his hand: "Begin!"
The tall boy did not charge recklessly like the first-round opponent. Instead, he circled Ye Chen slowly, like a snake waiting to strike. His steps were light, almost soundless, his arms slightly spread, ready to attack at any moment.
"Experienced," Ye Chen thought.
But he was not flustered. Activating Time Perception, the tall boy's movements immediately slowed in his eyes—not truly slowing, but he could predict them.
The tall boy's left shoulder dipped slightly—a signal for a left punch.
Ye Chen stepped right.
Sure enough, the left punch brushed past his shoulder.
A flicker of surprise crossed the tall boy's eyes, but he quickly changed tactics, sweeping his right leg toward Ye Chen's lower body.
Time Perception activated again. Ye Chen jumped lightly, evading the sweep, landing two steps away.
"Interesting." The tall boy dropped his complacent expression and grew serious.
He accelerated his attack rhythm, throwing punches and kicks like a storm. Each move flowed into the next with almost no pause—left punch, right punch, left kick, right kick, elbow strike, knee strike—a seamless combination.
An ordinary person would have been overwhelmed long ago.
But Ye Chen was no ordinary person.
With Time Perception active, he saw not the "present" attacks but the "future" attacks. Every movement of the tall boy traced a clear trajectory in his vision. He did not need to "react"—he only needed to move his body along the predicted paths.
Left punch—dodge right.
Right punch—dodge left.
Left kick—jump back.
Right kick—leap forward.
Elbow strike—duck.
Knee strike—sidestep.
After the combination ended, the tall boy panted heavily, only to find that Ye Chen had not even touched his clothes.
The spectators were stunned.
"What kind of footwork is that?"
"Too fast! It's like he knows where the opponent will strike before it happens!"
"Impossible! It must be luck!"
Bai Yu crossed his arms, a slight smile on his lips. "Not luck. Time Perception. He can see the future."
The person beside him looked at him in astonishment. "The future? How is that possible?"
"Space-Time attribute." Bai Yu's eyes lit up. "Interesting. Very interesting."
On the arena, the tall boy's expression had turned sour.
Though his Lingyuan reserves were greater than Ye Chen's, such high-intensity attacks consumed a lot of energy. After nearly a minute of fighting, his breathing had grown ragged, his movements slowing.
Ye Chen, meanwhile, had expended almost no physical energy.
"My turn."
Ye Chen launched his first offensive.
He did not use Space Cutting—using such power in this setting was too dangerous and unnecessary. Instead, during the gap between the tall boy's moves, he closed in, his palm like a blade, precisely striking the side of the boy's neck.
Not much force, but perfect placement.
The tall boy's vision went dark, his legs buckled, and he dropped to his knees with a thud.
"Number thirty-seven wins!"
Exclamations erupted from the crowd.
Ye Chen withdrew his hand and descended from the arena. As he passed Bai Yu, he heard the boy murmur, "Second round. Not bad."
"Not you yet," Ye Chen replied calmly.
Bai Yu grinned. "Don't worry. I won't disappoint you."