The competition was slowly coming to an end as more and more competitors were eliminated. Currently, the only two remaining with undefeated records were Xiao Fan and Qiu Han.

  Since those with similar records were paired together, it was only natural for these two to face each other. In fact, this could be considered the decisive round, the one that would determine the winner once and for all.

  “I didn’t expect the final undefeated contender to be someone like you,” Qiu Han said, his tone naturally condescending, even if he didn’t consciously intend it.

  Xiao Fan’s face darkened upon hearing that. “What do you mean by someone like me?”

  “I mean that among all of us, you are still the only one with a low-grade spiritual root.”

  If there were a way to measure what Qiu Han considered “innate superiority,” the spiritual root would undoubtedly be a key factor. Someone like Xiao Fan, who possessed the weakest grade, should never have been expected to make it this far.

  “Tsk, you talk too much. I’ll defeat you right here, right now,” Xiao Fan shouted.

  Meanwhile, Ning, who was lounging in his seat, once again heard the crowd erupt at that declaration.

  “The trash has lost his mind! He wants to challenge Senior Brother Qiu!”

  And they started calling him trash again…

  “He thinks he can defeat Qiu Han just because he’s currently ranked second? He’s too arrogant!”

  Ning genuinely didn’t understand how that could be perceived as cockiness.

  “He has eyes but can’t see Mount Tai.” A classic.

  “It was indeed surprising that you defeated the other two high-grade spiritual root disciples,” Qiu Han continued calmly, “but defeating me is something you cannot possibly accomplish. I will give you a chance to step down.”

  He spoke as if the outcome were already predetermined.

  This way of speaking gave Ning a sense of déjà vu. Wasn’t this similar to how that Zhou Sheng guy talked?

  Hearing that, Xiao Fan shook his head and grinned. He stared at Qiu Han with determination burning in his eyes.

  Even Qiu Han seemed slightly startled by that piercing gaze.

  “I won’t give up,” Xiao Fan said seriously as he assumed a stance, his aura radiating outward.

  “The Fifth Stage of Qi Condensation! He’s still only at the Fifth Stage!”

  “The trash is finished. I bet he won’t last more than three moves!”

  “Three moves? You’re overestimating him. He won’t even last one!”

  The crowd either admired Qiu Han or mocked Xiao Fan. Ning was no longer surprised. Instead, he was curious how the match would unfold given the massive gap in cultivation.

  Qiu Han observed him with detached calm.

  “You are still at the Fifth Stage,” he said evenly. “You understand the gap.”

  “I understand it,” Xiao Fan replied. “I’ll close it.”

  A faint curve touched Qiu Han’s lips. “You won’t.”

  The elder’s sleeve fell.

  “Begin.”

  Qiu Han vanished.

  [Supernatural Power: Quick, Doubles all movement speed]

  The distance between them collapsed like folded paper. His palm shot toward Xiao Fan’s sternum.

  Boom!

  Xiao Fan was blasted backward, his heels carving trenches into the stone. Cracks spidered outward from the point of impact.

  Before he could fully stabilize, Qiu Han followed up with another Quick.

  An elbow slammed toward his shoulder. A short punch drove into his abdomen. A knee rose toward his ribs. Each movement was clean, efficient, and merciless. His Seventh Stage spiritual sense locked onto Xiao Fan the moment he shifted.

  There was no searching. No hesitation. Just pure suppression of a higher cultivation base.

  From the stands, Ning’s eyes narrowed slightly. This was the ugly part about fighting someone above your level. Not only were their physical abilities stronger, but their ability to track and predict their opponent was superior as well.

  Xiao Fan roared and retaliated with Heaven-Shattering Fist. His strike carried condensed qi and youthful ferocity.

  Qiu Han caught it with one hand. Though his arm trembled slightly from the force, the metallic martial art coating reinforced it, allowing him to remain steady.

  “Effort,” Qiu Han said calmly, twisting his wrist and forcing Xiao Fan off balance, “does not equal quality.”

  A straight punch followed the remark.

  Xiao Fan’s lip split as he turned his head at the exact moment, absorbing the impact as blood dotted the white stone.

  “Give up your futile persistence. Beating someone at a higher level requires talent, and with your talent, you cannot match me.”

  Ning almost face-palmed.

  This guy was practically raising a flag.

  Xiao Fan retreated once more. With his keen vision, Ning noticed the old ring on his finger faintly glowing.

  Then Xiao Fan started grinning wildly.

  “So only those with talent can do that, huh?”

  Suddenly, spiritual qi began gathering around him, the precursor to an impending breakthrough.

  “Impossible!”

  “How can he attempt to advance to the Sixth Stage just like that? Especially with his spiritual root, there should be a bottleneck after the mid-stage of each realm!”

  The crowd was dumbfounded.

  Breaking through in the middle of a fight wasn’t unheard of, but it was exceedingly rare. Especially in Xiao Fan’s case, his talent shouldn’t have allowed such a feat. Moreover, such breakthroughs usually occurred in life-and-death battles, where the body’s potential was pushed to its limits.

  Whether in terms of talent or accumulated experience, neither seemed sufficient to explain this phenomenon.

  “Interesting.” Qiu Han did not interrupt. Instead, he watched the breakthrough with clear interest.

  “If the gap between us is too big, then all I need to do is try to close the gap, right?” Xiao Fan smiled triumphantly. It was ridiculously simple logic, absurd on the surface, yet impossible to refute.

  The crowd murmured.

  Yet Qiu Han did not press. Instead, he stepped back.

  “Break through,” he said flatly. “If you can.”

  His tone was purely dismissive, as if the Sixth Stage of Qi Condensation would not make the slightest difference.

  Spiritual qi around Xiao Fan began to churn violently. Wind spiraled inward; dust lifted from the platform.

  Ning exhaled softly.

  It was moments like this that made him feel as if he were truly inside a xianxia novel, with Xiao Fan as the undisputed protagonist.

  Ning couldn’t tell whether Xiao Fan had carefully analyzed Qiu Han’s personality and concluded that he wouldn’t interfere, or whether he was simply being reckless.

  Breaking through to the next stage required complete focus. Ning himself prepared meticulously for every breakthrough, steadying his mind and body, even using auxiliary materials like calming incense. The slightest disturbance could cause failure.

  Yet here Xiao Fan was, attempting a breakthrough in the middle of a battle. And not only that, his opponent was calmly waiting for him to finish his obvious power-up.

  Ridiculous.

  Qi surged wildly through Xiao Fan’s meridians.

  Qiu Han merely watched not moving an inch.

  With a roar, Xiao Fan forced the final barrier open.

  His aura surged.

  Sixth Stage of Qi Condensation.

  Golden light deepened in his eyes as his qi stabilized sharply. The oppressive aura around him condensed into something far more solid.

  The crowd erupted.

  “He advanced!”

  “In the middle of battle!”

  Qiu Han stepped forward again, his expression unchanged.

  “Now,” he said calmly, “the difference will be clearer.”

  Quick activated.

  Reading on this site? This novel is published elsewhere. Support the author by seeking out the original.

  His palm descended once more.

  This time, Xiao Fan reacted faster. His eyes turned fully golden, and he moved as if he could predict the attack before it unfolded. His body shifted just enough to deflect part of the force. Even so, the impact forced him back several steps.

  “I see you are using some sort of ocular technique to enhance your perception,” Qiu Han observed calmly. “It’s rare for me to encounter two opponents with such techniques.”

  His gaze lingered on Xiao Fan’s golden pupils.

  Meanwhile, Ning was stunned.

  What was with this difference?

  He knew protagonists were special and all, but what the hell did he use to learn Pure Eyes, which changed the slightly glowing effect of eyes to directly golden eyes?

  “Well,” Xiao Fan replied lightly, “consider this payback for that guy as well.”

  His qi surged again as he unleashed Heaven-Shattering Fist.

  Qiu Han answered immediately with his own strike.

  Their fists collided.

  A shockwave burst outward as stone fractured beneath their feet due to the sheer force of their attack.

  Qiu Han slid half a step. Then the air grew heavy.

  Behind him, a crimson sigil formed, circular, layered with rotating geometric inscriptions like grinding plates of molten metal. Pressure intensified instantly.

  Qiu Han activated Quick again. His body accelerated, and using the added momentum from his speed, he unleashed a barrage of strikes.

  “Metallic Dragon’s Consecutive Fist!”

  Xiao Fan’s golden eyes flickered rapidly, analyzing trajectories in an instant. Some attacks he deflected. Some he endured head-on, others he countered with his own fists.

  “This is too high-level!” someone in the crowd shouted.

  The spectators went wild. How could they not? The sheer display of martial prowess left even seasoned cultivators breathless.

  “Qiu Han seems quite motivated. He’s been using Quick far more in this fight than in any of his previous matches,” Ning observed calmly. Unlike the crowd, he wasn’t swept up in emotion; he was focused on the details.

  “It must be because this match means a lot to him,” Zhang Feng replied.

  “Hm?”

  “You might not know this, but most clans have a main branch and several side branches.” Zhang Feng, ever the reliable bro, naturally didn’t leave things half-explained like certain elders who enjoyed pretending to be mysterious.

  Ning nodded. “Go on.”

  “Qiu Han was originally from a side branch. It’s said his family wasn’t highly regarded and was often assigned minor tasks and errands. As a child of a branch family, he would have suffered the same fate. It was only because of his spiritual root and his supernatural ability that he earned a status equal to the heirs of the main family.”

  Zhang Feng leaned in slightly as he shared the gossip, clearly unconcerned about exposing the less glamorous side of clan politics.

  “No wonder he keeps talking about innate strength,” Ning muttered.

  After all, it was only because he had been blessed at birth that he had been able to change his fate.

  In contrast stood Xiao Fan, who, because of his inferior spiritual root, had been stripped of his position as heir and ridiculed.

  The two were exact opposites.

  “Earth-Grade Enhancement Technique,” Qiu Han said evenly. “Crimson Ascendant.”

  The sigil behind him pulsed. His muscles thickened. His qi compressed. Each breath carried multiplied force. A faint red glow outlined his limbs.

  Ning’s gaze sharpened.

  Enhancement body art. It amplifies structural density and output simultaneously. Ning never had the pleasure to witness it, but he had gatehred information about it.

  Qiu Han activated Quick at the same time.

  He disappeared and reappeared directly before Xiao Fan. His palm descended, blazing with crimson light.

  Boom!

  Xiao Fan was smashed into the platform.

  Qiu Han did not relent.

  Quick.

  Punch.

  The crimson sigil flared brighter.

  Quick.

  Elbow.

  The sigil rotated faster.

  Each activation stacked amplification upon amplification.

  “You see?” Qiu Han said calmly. “When gold is refined, it becomes purer. Iron only cracks.”

  Xiao Fan coughed blood.

  Yet he stood again.

  And this time, he did not look like he would fall.

  His breathing slowed as his stance changed.

  Beneath his torn robes, faint pale-golden patterns surfaced across his skin, veins of light spreading like lotus roots beneath flesh.

  Ning’s pupils contracted slightly.

  Xiao Fan inhaled deeply.

  “Heavenly Body Tempering Art.”

  Behind him, a faint phantom lotus bloomed, translucent and incomplete, yet unmistakable. Luminous petals spread outward in radiance.

  The Heavenly Lotus, a plant said to be nearly extinct, and the first prerequisite required to even begin cultivating this technique.

  Qiu Han’s eyes sharpened.

  “Heavenly body tempering art? The strongest body-refining art in the sect?” He smiled faintly. “This should be interesting.”

  “I hope you can still speak so calmly after I beat you,” Xiao Fan replied, steadying himself.

  The golden patterns brightened. His bones hummed faintly. The air around him vibrated with condensed vitality.

  He stepped forward.

  Heaven-Shattering Fist.

  The punch collided with Qiu Han’s crimson-enhanced arm.

  This time, Qiu Han slid back two full steps just like Xiao Fan.

  The arena gasped in unison.

  Ning narrowed his eyes.

  The Heavenly Body Tempering Art was reputed to be the strongest body-refining technique in the sect, so its effects were naturally extraordinary.

  Unlike Ning’s Jade Skin and Meridian Tempering techniques, which focused primarily on strengthening skin and meridians while leaving other aspects relatively average, the Heavenly Body Tempering Art provided balanced reinforcement across the entire body.

  From what Ning could see, Xiao Fan’s strength, speed, and resilience were now on par with Qiu Han’s.

  “As expected… he had a trump card,” Ning murmured, glancing at the now strengthened Xiao Fan.

  Moreover, as far as Ning knew just this body tempering art should not put Xiao Fan in the same level as Qiu Han so there was another unseen factor in play.

  Qiu Han’s crimson sigil rotated faster. His spiritual sense expanded sharply.

  Quick activated again.

  He vanished.

  Xiao Fan’s golden eyes glowed brighter as he tracked the fleeting figure. Not perfectly. But it was enough to catch the faintest hint.

  A palm descended.

  Instead of blocking, Xiao Fan answered with a straight punch.

  Boom!

  Both were blasted backward, blood splashing onto fractured stone.

  The tempo of the battle changed; gone was the leisurely attitude.

  Instead, it became raw.

  Fist against fist.

  Bone against bone.

  Qiu Han stacked Quick and Crimson Ascendant once more.

  Behind him, the crimson sigil blazed like a rising blood moon. Concentric rings rotated in layered cycles, grinding over one another with a low, oppressive hum. Each revolution deepened the scarlet light. Each pulse thickened the air until breathing felt heavy.

  Quick activated.

  His figure blurred.

  He reappeared before Xiao Fan, palm descending.

  The sigil flared.

  Boom!

  Xiao Fan was smashed across the platform, stone erupting beneath his back as cracks split outward in jagged lines.

  But Qiu Han did not pause.

  Quick.

  An elbow tore through the air.

  Quick.

  A backfist cut sideways.

  Quick.

  A straight punch detonated forward.

  Each burst sharper than the last. Each strike heavier than the last. Crimson Ascendant amplified everything: speed, weight, impact, momentum, layer upon layer, until even the air screamed beneath the pressure.

  From the stands, Ning leaned forward slightly.

  Quick did not merely double speed. It increased momentum, and the momentum increased the explosive power.

  And Qiu Han was chaining them without interruption.

  On the shattered platform, Xiao Fan forced himself upright. Blood dripped from his chin onto broken stone. Golden Pure Eyes flickered fiercely beneath his brows.

  Quick again.

  Qiu Han appeared at his flank and drove a palm downward.

  Xiao Fan shifted half a step.

  The blow grazed instead of landing squarely in Xiao Fan's face.

  But Qiu Han’s body carried a fraction too far before he corrected his stance.

  A single extra half-step.

  Ning’s eyes sharpened.

  He’s overshooting. The faster he stacks it, the harder it is to stop cleanly.

  Crimson Ascendant multiplied force, but it did not grant perfect deceleration.

  Quick activated again, more aggressively than before.

  Qiu Han reappeared above Xiao Fan, descending like a falling mountain, palm crushing downward with amplified weight.

  Xiao Fan crossed his arms to try to block the attack, but ultimately failed.

  The impact cracked a rib.

  Pain flared through his chest, but the Heavenly Body Tempering Art surged in response. Golden veins spread beneath torn robes, luminous patterns branching like lotus roots through flesh. Behind him, the phantom of a Heavenly Lotus shimmered faintly, its petals trembling in the violent wind.

  The lotus absorbed part of the shock. This was another major effect of this technique.

  “Why don’t you just fall? Give up! You don’t stand a chance of winning!” Qiu Han huffed, his breathing ragged. Chaining so many explosive bursts placed a heavy burden on him as well. Yet despite the relentless assault, this guy simply refused to back down.

  “Give up?” Xiao Fan muttered, his lips parting as pain laced his voice.

  And in that instant, a memory surfaced.

  Before the match, Ning had handed him a notebook. Inside was detailed information about Qiu Han’s fighting style, including patterns in his movements.

  “Quick is terrifying,” Ning had said. “But when someone chains explosive bursts together like ordinary steps, they begin to overshoot. Speed without restraint turns into momentum without control. That’s your chance.”

  At the time, Xiao Fan hadn’t fully understood those words.

  But now he did.

  Qiu Han vanished again.

  Quick.

  He reappeared directly before Xiao Fan, fist descending like a falling star.

  Xiao Fan did not retreat. He shifted slightly to the side.

  Just enough to dodge as the punch tore through empty air.

  Qiu Han’s momentum carried him half a step beyond perfect alignment.

  For the briefest heartbeat, his weight tipped forward too far. The crimson sigil flared violently as he attempted to stabilize.

  Golden Pure Eyes ignited.

  Xiao Fan saw it.

  The pattern.

  Quick.

  Overshoot.

  Correction.

  Quick.

  Overshoot.

  The Heavenly Lotus phantom brightened faintly as his body endured another amplified strike.

  Seeing him rise for what felt like the hundredth time, Qiu Han activated Quick once more.

  This time, he committed fully.

  Crimson Ascendant rotated at maximum speed, its rings grinding so fast they blurred into a single crimson halo.

  He vanished...

  and reappeared.

  Palms descending like a collapsing peak.

  Xiao Fan moved forward.

  He stepped into the arc of the attack, forcing Qiu Han to adjust mid-burst.

  Momentum dragged Qiu Han slightly off-center.

  For others, that would not mean much, but this was the protagonist who had fighting instinct and experience in spades.

  “Heaven-Shattering Fist! Consecutive Flash"

  The declaration cracked through the arena like thunder.

  Xiao Fan’s fist surged forward, his eyes gleaming, taking that split-second mistake and making it count.

  Crack!

  The blow struck Qiu Han’s chest before his footing fully reset.

  The crimson sigil fractured along one edge, a jagged fissure splitting through its rotating rings. Amplified force, lacking perfect control, rebounded unevenly through Qiu Han’s stance.

  For the first time, his expression changed.

  Xiao Fan pressed forward.

  Fist.

  Fist.

  Fist.

  He casted fist again and again.

  Each strike landed before Quick could complete a clean realignment. Each impact disrupted the rhythm before it could rebuild.

  There was no elegance in his attacks, none of the refinement most cultivators pursued. Only relentless conviction.

  Qiu Han tried to regain his tempo.

  “How could this be? Gold remains gold! You can’t defeat me!” he shouted for the first time, the earlier condescension completely gone from his face.

  Quick.

  But this time, urgency crept into the activation.

  He overshot again.

  The crimson sigil flickered violently, its rotation stuttering.

  Xiao Fan was already there.

  He gathered everything he had left, every strand of qi, every ounce of strength, into a single strike.

  “Heaven-Shattering Fist!”

  The final blow drove straight into Qiu Han’s sternum.

  Thud.

  The sound was heavy. Final.

  Qiu Han lifted off the ground and crashed backward across the ruined platform, carving a long trench through shattered stone before finally coming to rest at the edge of the arena.

  Silence fell.

  The crimson sigil dissolved into drifting sparks, fading like embers in the wind.

  Behind Xiao Fan, the Heavenly Lotus phantom dimmed slowly, its luminous petals folding inward.

  He swayed where he stood.

  Across the arena, Qiu Han attempted to rise, his legs trembling, but ultimately his legs gave out.

  He fell.

  The elder’s voice rang out, clear and unyielding.

  “Winner, Xiao Fan.”

  Thud.

  As if waiting for the announcement, Xiao Fan collapsed onto the ground.

  For a heartbeat, silence lingered.

  Then it shattered into thunderous uproar.

  “Impossible!”

  “How can this trash beat Senior Brother?!”

  They still insisted on calling him trash, even after witnessing his astonishing victory.

  Ning even saw a few disciples slapping themselves, as if checking whether this was all a dream. The entire arena descended into chaos.

  Meanwhile, Xiao Fan lay face-down on the shattered platform, snoring recklessly, utterly oblivious to the world around him.

  One of the universal shounen rules seemed to be that after an intense battle, the protagonist must immediately pass out. Otherwise, how else would you explain this level of recklessness?

  For the record, Xiao Fan had just publicly offended an elder. In his current state, he was completely vulnerable. Thankfully, Zhou Chen was nowhere to be seen; otherwise, who knew what that hotheaded fool might attempt?

  Still, Ning hadn’t expected much to begin with. Protagonists tended to have the survival instincts of a deer sprinting straight into headlights, which was to say, none at all.

  Of course, with Xiao Fan’s luck, things would probably work out anyway.

  Ning’s lips curved upward slightly.

  His plan, giving Xiao Fan everything he knew and had speculated about Qiu Han’s abilities, had paid off. From their earlier fight, Ning had realized that Quick, though terrifying, had flaws. In that final exchange, Qiu Han had overcommitted, and the backlash had exposed him.

  As the saying went, when you move faster than light, you end up in darkness. Even with spiritual sense, Qiu Han’s perception could barely keep up with his own explosive bursts.

  Ning’s entire strategy had hinged on that single weakness.

  And Xiao Fan had delivered.

  Against overwhelming odds, he had won.

  And in doing so, Ning, who had gambled on that slim possibility, had struck it rich.

  ..

  Thanks for reading~