Chapter 199: Youthful Arrogance!

The great river flows eastward; autumn wind sweeps across the field where ten thousand gather, and in the open center, a white-robed Young Master stands with sword in hand, in the prime of his youth.

An aging swordsman lowers his blade and departs in gloom; before leaving, he glances back at the Sacrificial Dragon Altar and the roaring crowd, his eyes brimming with countless thoughts, yet in sum, it boils down to one phrase:

The path of the martial world ends here.

Whether the cultivation path or the martial world, its grandeur is real, and its cruelty is equally real.

The spotlight on new arrivals always accompanies the silent departure of the old.

And such events will happen many times today; what is called the Hero Gathering is merely a turnover of new replacing the old.

Wei Wu Yi stands on the Sacrificial Dragon Altar, gazing at the white-clad figure below, and recalls his own youth.

Back then, he stood in the arena, though he no longer remembers who his opponent was, the one standing where he now stands was Ye Sheng.

Yet this youth before him may well catch up to him one day, while whether he himself can catch up to Ye Sheng remains uncertain.

After a moment of murmurs in the arena, Wei Wu Yi spoke gently:

"Xie young friend's achievement yesterday was no accident; your martial foundation has placed considerable pressure on us old-timers."

He spoke not of cultivation depth, but of potential; Duan Yuechou and others seated in the audience, having merely watched Xie Jinhuan fight once, could already roughly gauge his potential.

Xie Jinhuan is certainly a man of great fortune, yet no one who climbs to the top of the cultivation path lacks fortune; to truly stand alone at the summit, talent, comprehension, perseverance, and courage are all indispensable—Xie Jinhuan appears to possess them all, and if he walks this path without calamity, there is no reason he cannot one day sit where we sit.

After waiting for his opponent to descend, Xie Jinhuan bowed respectfully to the Sacrificial Dragon Altar and the surrounding crowd, yet did not leave; instead, he scanned the Wudaobai Sect:

"According to past tradition, martial artists voluntarily ascend to face off in pairs until no one answers, ending the first round; winners proceed to the second round until only one remains.

"But fighting this way is too simple—on the arena, we can observe our opponents' sect foundations, yet in real combat, there is no chance to discern their patterns.

"Records show that Wu Zu, in his arena battles, fought on without descending; the victor remained on the stage until exhausted or defeated, with final rankings determined by consecutive wins, the top three vying for the crown…"

"Oh…"

At these words, murmurs of shock rippled through the crowd.

Many contestants who had been eager to step forward now changed expression.

Fighting on without respite is not the same difficulty level as normal arena combat.

In normal combat, only the first match is unknown; subsequent matches involve opponents who have already revealed themselves, so one has a rough estimate, and ample time to rest.

Fighting on without respite is a wheel battle: after the first match, the victor's style is fully exposed, yet he knows nothing of his challenger's background, relying entirely on instant reactions, accumulating injuries, and continuously draining stamina with no chance to rest or recover.

This is an endless bitter struggle, requiring endurance until exhaustion, defeat, or no challenger remains; the longer it goes on, the deadlier it becomes—just imagining it suffocates.

Yet this method is indeed closest to real combat—do not harbor any illusions about your circumstances or fairness; a true martial man, even in utter despair, must stand firm, seek every possible advantage, and either fight until victory or fight until death.

Moreover, this style yields the highest prestige; the top three are forged in true fire, with not a drop of water to question.

At Sanjiangkou, where ten thousand gather, whispers abound, yet no loud clamor arises; the contestants hesitate, for this method is indeed daunting.

Wei Wu Yi, as the foremost martial figure, prefers this method that tests the limits of martial men; now, enjoying the spectacle, he scanned the assembled heroes:

"What do you all think?"

Xie Jinhuan stood with sword in hand; seeing no response, he directly provoked:

"If you all let me watch your matches beforehand and give me one or two hours to prepare, you won't just lack any chance of victory—you'll lose disgracefully. If no one steps up, I'll descend myself."

The Wudaobai Sect in attendance erupted in uproar at these words.

The onlookers from the martial world stared in awe:

"What is called youthful arrogance? This is too bold…"

"A martial man should be this way—if you lack the heart that says 'I am invincible under heaven,' how can you reach the pinnacle?"

"If all sects here dare not accept, then this contest need not proceed…"

…

Nangong Ye and Bu Yuehua, hidden among the crowd, felt Xie Jinhuan was indeed young and arrogant.

But in truth, Xie Jinhuan had spoken with considerable restraint.

The only opponents he feared were those who could overpower him with sheer force, leaving him no recourse.

As for the rest, even without an hour or two to analyze strategy, he could still win.

His proposal was purely to avoid wasting several days waiting through a slow tournament.

If he wins this wheel battle outright, he can claim the treasure and leave immediately.

If he encounters someone he cannot defeat even with all his strength, then even in normal combat he couldn't win—so at least he secures a top-three reputation and returns sooner to excavate Bing Tuotuo…

After speaking, Xie Jinhuan scanned the crowd; seeing no one step forward, he ceased pressing and turned to descend.

But all martial men present carried pride; if Xie Jinhuan delivered his threat and simply walked away, even if they later won the title, they would be mocked for a lifetime as cowards.

As Xie Jinhuan prepared to leave, a voice rang out near the Sacrificial Dragon Altar:

"Brother Xie truly has great courage. Since you seek 'No Second Under Heaven,' ninety-nine percent of those here will eventually Zhe Ji—it's merely a matter of sooner or later. Since Brother Xie wishes to fight on without respite, I, Zhang, shall ascend now while you remain unharmed, sparing the others here from saying I gained too much advantage." Xie Jinhuan turned; from the Liuhetang seat emerged a man nearing thirty, clad in martial attire, wielding a long spear—Zhang Zhan, heir of Liuhetang.

Liuhetang is the dominant power in Shuozhou, extending south into Lingnan and west toward Xirong, occupying a strategically advantageous position; its disciples often join the military, wielding considerable influence in the southwest, overlapping with Fengshan Hui's sphere.

Originally, Liuhetang's purpose in coming was to challenge their old rival Fengshan Hui; Zhang Zhan was also a favorite for the title, and his early emergence clearly marked him as another young and arrogant man.

Seeing his opponent wield a spear, Xie Jinhuan drew the Minglong Spear from the ground and bowed:

"I thought the young generation of Daqian had no true men left—you, Brother Zhang, are one."

"Huh—!"

Though Xie Jinhuan spoke without fear, the martial onlookers were startled to their core.

Nangong Ye widened his eyes, feeling this boy's demeanor resembled the unruly brat in his private chambers—infuriating, yet helpless, leaving only gritted teeth and endured excavation.

Many disciples of sect leaders, upon hearing this, flushed red with rage; but Zhang Zhan had already stepped onto the arena, so no matter how furious they were, they must wait until after the fight to demand answers.

Zhang Zhan, clad in brocade robes, stepped forward with his nine-foot spear; hearing Xie Jinhuan's taunt, he felt he had come up at the right moment—otherwise, sitting below, he would have been so enraged he'd have spat blood. He bowed in return:

"Liuhetang, Zhang Zhan. Within, our sect unites heart, spirit, and courage; without, we unite hands, feet, and eyes—attacks and defenses shift in an instant. Brother Xie, beware."

"Pleasure."

Xie Jinhuan said no more; he raised his spear with one hand, giving it a slight shake—the nine-foot spearhead emitted a sharp "Pah—!" Then his feet slid apart into a bow stance, both hands gripping the spear forward, instantly merging man and spear into an immovable boulder.

Zhang Jian actually felt that Xie Jinhuan's spear technique was handsome, but a bit flashy; it was perfect for wooing Misses, but utterly meaningless in actual combat.

However, being a bit handsome meant no one would cower; Zhang Jian held his spear with both hands, assuming a stance as the muscles on his shoulders and back slowly tensed. From a distance, he looked like a powerful bow being gradually drawn; though the arrow was on the string, its sharpness was enough to make anyone facing him tremble with fear.

Hoo~

As the two assumed their stances, the ten thousand people around quickly fell silent, leaving only the autumn wind whipping up flying sand, blowing across the yellow earth between them.

Zhang Jian was not a second-rate martial artist like Bao Xiaolin; he was a direct disciple of one of the Seven Dragon Heads of the Martial Dao. His foundation, while not necessarily number one in Sanjiangkou, was absolutely within the top ten. Before this battle even began, everyone understood it would be a fierce fight.

And the facts did not disappoint the onlookers present, nor the Seven Heroes of the Martial Dao.

Step, step...

Zhang Jian struck first, but did not unleash his spear technique; instead, he advanced step by step, his gaze locking onto Xie Jinhuan's eyes, inching closer bit by bit.

Xie Jinhuan stood holding his spear, feeling that this man before him, aside from the Super-Grade Monk, was the strongest opponent he had ever seen, his momentum steady without the slightest flaw.

It felt like a heavy war chariot slowly rolling over, making it impossible to shake even though one could clearly see it.

Hoo, hoo, hoo~

Xie Jinhuan likewise stared into the other's eyes; the spear in his hand danced with spear flowers before him, the half-foot spear tip swaying like a wandering snake. The blade cutting through the air emitted a faint low hum, sounding like a dragon or python coiling up to strike.

Step, step...

Zhang Jian, fully focused, captured every slightest sign on Xie Jinhuan's body, trying to react in time when the attack came; advancing step by step was forcing him to strike.

If a martial artist remains still and assumes a defensive posture, there is simply no flaw to find; but once they move, they must make a choice between 'offense and defense.' The more intense the offense, the smaller the defensive space; if the defense is too excessive, the momentum will inevitably be diminished.

This was the instant Zhang Jian was waiting for, but even with prior estimation, Xie Jinhuan's explosion still exceeded everyone's expectations!

Just as the two were locked in confrontation, a soul-shaking spear cry suddenly rang out in Sanjiangkou:

Whoosh—

The spear cry startled the sky and halted the clouds, resembling the roar of a dragon and the howl of a tiger, even scattering the autumn geese flying south.

Xie Jinhuan seemed to be steadily seeking an opportunity, yet when the opponent had not the slightest flaw, he struck without any warning, his momentum like a mighty dragon breaking the sea; in the instant of his opening move, his internal energy had already been driven to the limit.

The internal energy raised by the spear tip breaking the air whipped up flying grass and dust from the ground; before anyone could clearly see, a single spear had already pierced straight through the center!

In spear techniques, the straight thrust in the middle is the hardest to parry; there is no flashy nonsense, just the weapon's advantage pushed to the extreme. As long as the foundation is thick enough, it is 'all martial arts under heaven are invincible only through speed'; the spear's natural penetrating power is also enough to pierce through any obstacle before it.

Zhang Jian's expression suddenly changed, but facing the Black Dragon Colliding with the Pillar which had instantly driven its explosive power to the limit, he still reacted relying on his advantage in cultivation; in the instant the Minglong Spear attacked, he shattered the spear with both hands!

Clang—

The spear tip clashed against the shaft of the Minglong Spear; though the movement seemed small, it shattered the straight-piercing long dragon tearing through the wild, deflecting it to the side, and then, like a venomous snake flicking its tongue, the spear tip shot straight for the attacker's throat.

When peak martial artists clash, victory and defeat hang by a hair's breadth.

Xie Jinhuan knew it was impossible to drown Zhang Jian in a single strike relying on inhuman explosive power; the force was not fully expended. As the long spear deflected, he forcibly retracted the power, pulled the spear up to block and push aside the horizontal thrust, and顺势 thrust the spear to target the waist and abdomen.

Whoosh—

Zhang Jian instantly retreated three zhang, avoiding the Thunderclap strike; upon landing, his feet already slid apart, holding the spear up to block, defending his entire body without a single drop of water leaking through. His Qi state was steady as a rock, yet a cold sweat rolled down his temple.

Xie Jinhuan also stopped in place, holding the spear with both hands in a posture combining offense and defense; his gaze was rarely as still as dead water, with nothing else in his heart.

Boom, boom, boom...

The internal energy and yellow earth whipped up by the顺势 explosion swept violently between the two, yet were kept out by invisible forceful winds; from a distance, they looked like two reefs in the midst of a storm.

The onlooking Jianghu people almost suffocated; even exerting all their visual power, they could not clearly see how the two exchanged blows.

Only opponents of the same level, and even the Super-Grade big shots above them, could see how dangerous these two moves were; Zhang Jian was grabbing a chestnut from the fire, while Xie Jinhuan was a butterfly dancing on a mountain of knives. Though the movement and sound seemed small, if their reaction differed by a hair's breadth, one of the two would die.

The two in the arena returned to confrontation, but this time it lasted only an instant!

(End of this chapter)