Chapter 467: 466. Chapter 461: Arena Tournament

Cultivators who made it to the ninth round were naturally top-tier among Xian Cultivators.

But in Ding Huan's eyes, his true opponent should be a Dayi Xian; he didn't even consider Xian Cultivators worthy of notice.

Just like before, around twenty moves, He Qi was forced off the arena by Ding Huan's Dahan Yi Dao.

At the moment he was forced off the arena, He Qi's heart churned like a storm-tossed sea.

When Ding Huan stepped onto the stage, he knew he wasn't a match—but now he realized just how far behind he truly was.

Though he clashed with Ding Huan for nineteen moves, the opponent had only truly exerted himself in that final slash that knocked him off.

No, perhaps in his own eyes, that slash was the opponent's full strength—but in the opponent's eyes, it was just a casual strike.

If he was like this, others were the same—they couldn't force Ding Huan to reveal his true power.

Strong. It was simply absurdly strong.

"Senior He, are you alright?" A disciple from the Xianwugong rushed over to support He Qi.

If He Qi had been knocked off the arena at the very start by a disciple of Dafanxian Sect, it would have been unthinkable in the Xianwugong.

Now, everyone found it perfectly normal.

He Qi laughed heartily: "What's wrong with me? I just lost to Senior Liu—his strength is too great, I'm no match."

"His final slash nearly crushed my domain completely—I had no choice but to retreat from the arena."

This time, the crowd caught the meaning in his words—it wasn't defeat-induced frustration, but pride.

Look, how many of those who fought Senior Liu weren't kicked clean off the stage?

Kicked in the face, kicked in the chest, kicked in the back and the ass…

He Qi knew he couldn't win—he jumped off the arena himself.

What does that prove? It proves he could break free from the opponent's domain restraint. He admits he's weaker than Senior Liu—but stronger than everyone else.

When Ding Huan heard "No. 3211 wins," he glanced at his combat number token.

The token displayed a score of ninety.

Behind the score, it read: Elimination Round Complete. Awaiting Arena Tournament Start.

Ding Huan was satisfied—he no longer rushed the arena tournament.

After the combat competition ended, Monk Qianlou returned to the Array Arena.

He scanned Ding Huan several times with his spiritual sense, but Ding Huan was unremarkable; nearly a hundred others had also won all nine rounds.

As for the Alchemy, Artifact, and Rune Competitions, Monk Qianlou didn't care at all.

The second round of the Array Arena hadn't started yet, so Ding Huan went to the Rune Competition zone. By timing, his first round was about to begin.

Indeed, Ding Huan waited less than two hours before his rune competition token flashed.

"Dafanxian Sect's Sixth Senior, report to Arena No. 20 within ten breaths for combat."

Ding Huan's rune competition token was No. 21850; his opponent was No. 21849.

Ding Huan and his opponent landed on the arena simultaneously; the challenge appeared: "Craft and activate a Level Two Immortal Rune."

Both knew the arena's array would judge who scored higher.

In rune duels, besides speed of crafting, materials and effect mattered too.

But the arena provided no materials—each competitor brought their own.

If your rune-crafting skill surpassed your opponent's, but your materials were inferior, resulting in a weaker rune, you still lost.

Ding Huan swiftly crafted a Level Two Ice Arrow Rune and activated it.

A cloud of ice mist exploded in midair, then a number appeared in the void: ninety-nine.

Ding Huan's opponent stared, dumbfounded—how could he compete? He hadn't even finished purifying his materials, yet the opponent had already scored?

Knowing defeat was certain, the cultivator frantically crafted a Level Two Immortal Fire Rune.

The rune activated; another number appeared in the void: forty-two.

Clearly, he'd been rattled by Ding Huan's speed in crafting a Level Two Immortal Rune.

The arena announced: "No. 21850 wins."

Watching his opponent leave, Ding Huan decided next time he'd slow down slightly—no need to craft so fast.

¤￠o

Wasn't the maximum score a hundred? Where did he lose one point? He felt nothing amiss while crafting this rune.

Regardless, the first round of the rune competition was over.

The second round would likely require another long wait—he had to return to the Combat Arena.

The second round of the Array Arena hadn't started yet—no rush.

Monk Qianlou, perhaps realizing his vigil at the Array Arena was pointless, chose to leave.

Ding Huan was certain the man was only temporarily gone—he returned to his quarters and resumed rune crafting.

Only one day passed, and the Array Arena's second round hadn't begun—but the Combat Arena's tournament had already started.

Ding Huan had to stop crafting runes and return to the Combat Arena.

The arena tournament was timed—only one day to complete.

As soon as Ding Huan returned, countless spiritual senses landed on him.

Nearly forty thousand cultivators entered the Combat Elimination Round; only these hundred remained—each was no ordinary cultivator.

Ding Huan glanced at the distant arena ranking board—Dafanxian Sect hadn't even cracked the top hundred. As for its exact position, he didn't care.

Extra arenas had been dismantled; only ten remained.

Ding Huan's gaze quickly found Han Han Qiongsang, as Yan Sha had described—he wore the attire of Lingyao Immortal Pavilion.

Had it not been for the identity tag hanging from his waist, Ding Huan might not have recognized him as Han Han Qiongsang at first glance.

Because besides Han Han Qiongsang, there was another man and woman wearing the attire of Lingyao Xian Ge.

Ding Huan couldn't help but marvel at how strong an Eight-Star Immortal Sect truly was.

In the elimination round, each Immortal Sect could send only three participants; all three from Lingyao Xian Ge passed all nine rounds and advanced to the arena match.

Ding Huan knew that Immortal Sects above Seven-Star rank had the option to skip the elimination round entirely and advance directly to the arena match.

The fact that Lingyao Xian Ge had three participants in the combat arena match meant they had not chosen to skip the elimination round.

No wonder—given Lingyao Xian Ge's immense strength, if they had chosen to skip the elimination round, only two of them would have advanced to the arena match; yet now three had made it.

The arena's barrier flickered, and immediately a massive array screen displayed a line of large characters: "Arena Match Begins. Immortal Sects above Seven-Star rank, send one participant to defend the arena."

Ten figures surged onto the arena.

Ding Huan rushed onto Arena Four almost the next instant.

He had no intention of wasting time; with only one day left, the more opponents he defeated, the higher his score.

Seeing Ding Huan so quickly ascend Arena Four, everyone turned their gaze toward him.

The arena defenders here were all cultivators from Immortal Sects above Seven-Star rank—none were weak.

At this moment, most people wanted to observe others' strength before choosing whom to challenge.

Otherwise, a failed challenge would deduct points.

For Ding Huan to rush up immediately after the defender had just taken the stage was simply bizarre.

Yet no one underestimated Ding Huan—could anyone who had passed the first nine rounds of elimination be ordinary?

"Admirable courage. Dafanxian Sect, hah, impressive. Remember my name: Liang Chuanjin." Seeing Ding Huan approach, the male cultivator from Lingyao Xian Ge let out a chuckle.

Ding Huan naturally chose Lingyao Xian Ge; having promised to avenge Yan Sha, he had to follow through.

As long as he struck down the other Lingyao Xian Ge contestants, Han Han Qiongsang would surely come to seek revenge.

Ding Huan hesitated not at all—he slashed out with Dahan Yi Dao.

As for his Wheel of Reincarnation Spear, he had no intention of summoning it at all.

"Bold," Liang Chuanjin laughed, amused by Ding Huan's arrogance; he flung out his hand, and a massive Eight-Angled Cosmos Hammer slammed toward Ding Huan.

"Crack!" Ding Huan's blade aura shattered, and he was flung backward.

Given Ding Huan's nature, this was the time to seize points—he should end it swiftly.

Yet he feared that if he showed too much strength, Han Han Qiongsang would refuse to come up.

So Ding Huan continuously dodged Liang Chuanjin's Eight-Angled Cosmos Hammer, appearing as if his Immortal Qi was insufficient, relying only on skill to overcome brute force.

At first, Liang Chuanjin's Cosmos Hammer had discernible patterns; by the end, the entire arena was filled with its hammer shadows.

Violent Dao rhythms slammed against the arena's protective array, causing Immortal Qi to explode in a series of booming sounds,

The spectators below trembled in awe—the countless hammer shadows nearly obscured the entire space; Liang Chuanjin's opponent had nowhere to dodge.

If one were even grazed by these rampant Cosmos Hammer Dao rhythms, wouldn't it mean certain death?

Yet no matter how violently the hammer shadows surged or how wildly the Dao rhythms raged, they could never locate Ding Huan's position.

Liang Chuanjin had initially paid no mind to Ding Huan—but the more he fought, the more his heart tightened.

He was no fool; Ding Huan's evasion was harder than outright resistance.

At that moment, Ding Huan's blade slashed again.

Liang Chuanjin clearly sensed Ding Huan's long blade—yet he simply could not dodge.

"Puff!" A spray of blood exploded; Liang Chuanjin felt his arm go cold.

His heart lurched—he clearly realized one of his arms had been severed.

Before he could even grasp his severed limb, he felt a chilling sensation creeping up his back.

Liang Chuanjin's Cosmos Hammer shadow technique still raged across the arena, making it seem he held the upper hand.

Only Liang Chuanjin knew his hammer shadows could not lock onto his opponent's position—and now he faced a death threat, forcing him to dodge desperately.

Crack! Liang Chuanjin watched in horror as his severed arm, still midair, was shredded into a mist of blood by his own hammer shadows.

A violent force slammed into his back, hurling him into the air before he crashed heavily to the ground.

Liang Chuanjin lay sprawled, unable to move a muscle—his entire spine was shattered.

"Contestant 3211 wins."

A melodious voice echoed in Ding Huan's ear; as he smiled in satisfaction, a woman rushed onto the arena.

The woman said nothing—upon stepping onto the arena, she swung her Illusory Sea Thorn Whip at Ding Huan.

Ding Huan sneered inwardly—sure enough, another Lingyao Xian Ge disciple; if he knocked this woman off, Han Han Qiongsang would surely appear next.

This time, Ding Huan's long blade transformed into a curtain of blades, entangling with the woman's Illusory Sea Thorn Whip shadows—soon, the blade curtain was swallowed by the whip's tendrils.

The spectators outside the arena had not yet recovered from Ding Huan's victory over Liang Chuanjin when they witnessed an even more spectacular battle.

"Sister Feng Ling will win for sure—look, her Illusory Sea Thorn Whip has locked that damn sixth-place loser!"

"Not necessarily—wasn't that last sixth-place loser also locked down by Brother Liang's Cosmos Hammer?"