The Dark Group was set in the first battle ring.
The number of spectators surrounding the ring increased steadily.
They were pulled in by the suspense in the atmosphere and the heady scent of blood.
Liu Bubai did not stand a chance against Lin Yun—Lin Yun's sword mastery was miles ahead of Liu Bubai .
However, that was not the issue. What bothered Fang Lang the most was the undignified manner of Liu Bubai's defeat. Lin Yun had repeatedly smashed Liu Bubai's skull with the sword hilt. It was an insult to a sword disciple's perseverance.
Fang Lang saw Liu Bubai as a friend.
The boy was confident in his sword mastery, perhaps he was too conceited…
Nonetheless, he was good-natured with his determination to carry Fang Lang to victory. Fang Lang merely smiled each time Liu Bubai announced his intentions.
Fang Lang could only imagine the damage this match had done to the boy.
The world of cultivation was cruel. Everyone was struggling to reach the top and the only way up was to step on others.
After a period of restraint, the torrential rain was finally let loose.
Raindrops hit the floor and soaked the battle ring.
Outside the ring.
Jiang Linglong produced an oil-paper umbrella out of nowhere and held it over her head. As the rain drummed on her umbrella, she stared at Fang Lang, frowning.
She was confused as to why Fang Lang wanted to fight this battle.
She was aware of Fang Lang's sword techniques which ranked among the top sword disciples, but Lin Yun's skills were on a different level. Lin Yun's techniques were clearly honed for slaughter.
Judging from Fang Lang's past performance with the Spirit Step and Sword Draw Technique, there was no guarantee he could defeat Lin Yun.
Nonetheless, Jiang Linglong did not argue with Fang Lang. She had a feeling Fang Lang would surprise her yet again.
Her gaze shifted to the two swords in Fang Lang's hands.
A blade in each hand…
Besides the Sword Draw Technique and Spirit Step…he had other techniques up his sleeves?
Another surprise?
…
Song Qingyun scrunched his brows. It was not yet Beijiang Academy's turn to battle but the news from his classmate about Luojiang Academy's performance had piqued his curiosity—he decided to come and spectate.
He wanted to know if the boy next door, Fang Lang, was truly as impressive as the rumors about him.
"Lin Yun of Donglu Academy… The boy who was rumored to be banished to Donglu's demon world to learn cultivation? The disciple of Donglu's God of Blades?"
"The boy slaughters men, demons, and devils alike… A cold-blooded fellow."
Song Qingyun knew of Lin Yun's reputation—even the ace of Beijiang Academy would be in a tight spot if their opponent was Lin Yun.
Both Changan Academy and Beijiang Academy were keeping a close eye on Lin Yun.
Thus, when Song Qingyun saw Fang Lang enter the ring, he subconsciously shook his head.
Perhaps Fang Lang was truly as prodigious as the rumors made him seem; perhaps with his sixth grade sword mastery, he managed to single-handedly eliminate other academy teams.
However, the probability of Fang Lang winning against Lin Yun was slim to none.
…
Rain began to pour.
Fog enveloped Mount Shu. The mist and rain made the scene look like a dream.
In the battle ring on the summit.
"A seventh-grade disciple? Are you looking down on me?"
Lin Yun scoffed at Fang Lang's introduction. A cruel glint flashed in his eyes.
Nevertheless, Lin Yun was not about to underestimate him. If a seventh-grade disciple dared to set foot in the ring, he must have some trick up his sleeves. If Lin Yun was someone who underestimated his opponents, he would have died a long time ago in Donglu's demon world.
Amidst the downpour, Lin Yun's silhouette moved. Dragging the rusty sword behind him, he strode toward Fang Lang.
His blade cut the fallen rain droplets in half.
The sudden storm darkened the atmosphere.
Lin Yun abruptly stopped his advance. The puddles beneath his feet splashed approximately a meter high. He picked up his rusty sword and pointed it at Fang Lang.
Lin Yun loved the rain—his sword techniques were stronger in the rain.
Boom!
The air around his sword compressed and then exploded. The surrounding rainwater turned into a semi-transparent blade that rushed at Fang Lang.
Fang Lang held both blades in a reverse grip. The rain had made strands of his hair stick to his forehead.
His eyes were alert.
Sharp blades, sharp eyes.
He marched forward. Suddenly, his silhouette floated. Spirit Step! His movements were too quick to follow!
Fang Lang was extremely calm. He knew Lin Yun was a formidable foe, but composure was vital when facing a strong opponent.
"Switch to binding partner mode," said Fang Lang.
A notification by the System indicated a successful switching. His vision was enhanced.
In the binding partner mode, Fang Lang had Ni Wen's core. This was not only useful for cultivation—a strong core came with advantages during combat.
A strong core allowed one to keep up with their opponent's speed and anticipate their combat strategy.
Rain continued to pour.
Thunder shook the ground.
Rain droplets fell to the ground and splashed everywhere, shrouding the summit of Mount Shu within a thick mist.
"Are you here for revenge? For that pretty boy?"
Lin Yun swung his rusty blade. He felt the pressure coming from Fang Lang.
However, Lin Yun was fearless.
The rusty sword in his hands trembled and expelled a gust that was sharp as a blade.
Fallen raindrops were sliced clean in half by the blade of air.
The blade of air whistled loudly as it continued toward Fang Lang.
Lin Yun did not use any cultivation techniques. The blade of air was purely from his physical strength!
Fang Lang's body moved like an illusion. With his Spirit Step, he avoided the blade of air by angling his body.
Finally, Fang Lang and Lin Yun closed the distance and they crossed swords!
In the rain, Fang Lang leaped into the air and swung the steel sword in his right hand downward with full force.
Clang!
Lin Yun raised his muscular arm and blocked the attack with his rusty blade. A wide smile appeared on his face. His eyes glowed like a predator eyeing its prey.
"I'll give you a first-hand experience of the pain that pretty boy felt."
With a flick of his hand, the hilt of Lin Yun's rusty sword curved around Fang Lang's sword to strike at his head.
It was the same trick Lin Yun used to embarrass Liu Bubai.
Fang Lang had anticipated this move. He swung the sword in his left hand and blocked the attack. The friction caused sparks to fly.
Fang Lang lifted his foot and swung it forward like a blade.
Instantly, blade energy shot out from his foot.
Lin Yun's pupils narrowed. His body spun on the spot—kicking up a whirlwind of rainwater—and avoid the cutting blade energy.
Fang Lang's expression remained neutral—he was unfazed. Memories bloomed before his eyes like a lotus flower.
…
The memory of the Dual Sword Technique spread within his mind like black ink.
On a stormy day in the courtyard of the Fang Manor.
Drenched by the rain, Fang Lang held a sword in each hand. He swung them around persistently. Blade energy filled the air as the blades rained down—every drop of rain was sliced by his blades. The flurry of blades formed an impenetrable shield above his head.
With two blades in hand, Fang Lang fought the rain.
He stabbed with his left hand and sliced with his right—two combat styles utilized simultaneously.
Day after day, year after year.
…
Amidst the rain, Fang Lang lifted his head up abruptly, sending beads of water flying.
Swish!
His two swords were unsheathed.
The blades glowed.
Countless rain droplets fell from the sky. Lin Yun's breath caught in his chest.
He felt as if a sharp object was wedged in his throat, cutting his heart and lungs.
Lin Yun could not toy with Fang Lang as he did with Liu Bubai. Fang Lang was vastly different from Liu Bubai.
He lifted his rusty sword and held it in front of his body.
With a blade in each hand, Fang Lang swung at him continuously.
Clang!
Clang, clang!
The two swords struck again and again, not giving Lin Yun a second to catch his breath.
Fang Lang's movements flowed like water. Two different blades, two different combat styles, yet they were wielded and executed by the same person.
It was as if Lin Yun was forced into the depths of an abyss. He struggled to catch his breath.
Fang Lang's attacks crashed in like waves, one after another!
Fast!
Too fast!
There was no delay between each blow. Even the pouring rain was deflected by Fang Lang's dual swords. The rain could not touch him!
Lin Yun was forced back!
Step by step, he backed away.
…
In the first battle ring for the Dark group.
Dead silence filled the ring.
The torrential rainstorm roared but the crowd could only hear the rhythmic clashing of blades in the ring. The audience felt their breath catch with each strike.
The umpire from the Sword Guild widened his eyes and watched intently. He was afraid his inattentiveness could lead to Lin Yun's demise. The boy would be minced by Fang Lang's unrelenting dual sword attack.
Jiang Linglong stood under the umbrella. The veil over her face fluttered gently in the wind. For the first time, surprise and amazement shone from her beautiful eyes.
'Is this… Fang Lang's trump card?' she thought.
Further away from the battle ring, Song Qingyun of Beijiang Academy dropped his jaw. The shock and astonishment were evident in his expression.
Mentors from other academies had also turned their attention to the fierce battle. They were rendered speechless.
After Mentor Wen took Liu Bubai to treat his wounds, he rushed back to the ring as quickly as he could. He was greeted with this scene amidst the storm. A shocked and bewildered expression appeared on his face.
"Sword Draw Technique, Spirit Step, Dual Sword Technique… How did he learn all these? That little bastard… Is he a monster?"