At this moment, the plaza of the Fist Emperor Sect was already filled with a large crowd, with representatives from the four major sects all gathered.
When Tian Fan and Li Yunyang arrived at the arena, Zi Ying and Sun Yueying were already standing next to Sun Shennan. Two unfamiliar men also stood behind Sun Shennan, their expressions calm as they quietly observed the center of the arena.
When Sun Yueying saw Tian Fan approach, she shot him a murderous glare, while Zi Ying merely giggled at Tian Fan, as if she had completely forgotten their previous encounter.
“Senior Brother, Senior Brother Di.”
Li Yunyang stepped forward and greeted the two men. They turned to him, smiling and nodding, before shifting their gaze toward Tian Fan. Dressed in white, Li Yunhua asked,
“And who might this be?”
“A scoundrel!” Sun Yueying spat angrily before Li Yunyang could introduce him.
Tian Fan: “…”
“Uh, it’s just a misunderstanding,” Li Yunyang said awkwardly. “Senior Brothers, this is Tian Fan.” He quickly introduced him to Li Yunhua and Di Fu.
“Junior Brother Tian Fan, welcome to the Great Sealing Sect,” Li Yunhua greeted warmly. His elegant demeanor resembled that of a scholar.
Di Fu, dressed in black, glanced at Tian Fan and gave a curt nod without speaking.
“Haha, don’t mind him, Junior Brother Tian Fan. He’s always like that,” Li Yunhua explained with a smile.
“It’s fine. Everyone has their own ways,” Tian Fan responded politely, returning the gesture with the same courteous demeanor.
A soft cough came from the front as an elderly man, standing before the members of the four sects, began announcing the tournament procedures.
Each sect would send five participants to compete. Matchups would be determined by drawing lots, with the winners advancing to the next round until the final champion was decided.
“These are the rules. One incense stick later, the Four Sect Martial Competition will officially begin. All participants, please proceed to your respective competition sites. Judges, who are experts from different sects, will oversee the matches to ensure fairness and impartiality. No judge will come from a contestant’s own sect. Best of luck to all participants!”
With the announcement concluded, the elder departed, and members of the four sects began heading toward their assigned arenas. The Fist Emperor Sect had set up four arenas at the east, south, west, and north ends of the plaza. Each stage was protected by a defensive formation left by cultivators from the Gui Immortal Realm, forming a barrier to prevent stray spells from harming the audience.
For the first round, the Great Sealing Sect’s representatives were Li Yunhua and Tian Fan. Li Yunhua was matched against Chu Yunxuan from the Yin-Yang Sect, while Tian Fan’s opponent was Nie Dao from the Flying Sword Sect.
“Good luck, Junior Brother Tian Fan! I believe in your victory!” Li Yunhua encouraged with a smile.
“Senior Brother Li, I’m sure you’ll win your match as well,” Tian Fan responded with a smile of his own.
“It’s hard to say. Chu Yunxuan is quite formidable, and he wields the powerful Tyrant Blade. Honestly, I’m not confident I can defeat him,” Li Yunhua admitted, frowning slightly in concern.
“Hehe, trust me, Senior Brother. You’ll definitely win!” Li Yunyang grinned mischievously, patting Tian Fan on the shoulder.
While their conversation left Li Yunhua somewhat puzzled, Tian Fan excused himself and made his way to his arena to prepare for his match. Originally, Zi Ying wanted to watch Tian Fan’s match, but Sun Yueying firmly objected, so only Li Yunyang went to cheer for him.
As Tian Fan approached the arena, Li Yunyang shouted from behind, “Go for it, Xiao Fan!”
Tian Fan turned back, smiled at him, and then focused on his opponent—a cold, indifferent young man stepping onto the stage. Nie Dao, dressed in green, looked to be in his early twenties and was quite handsome, though his expression remained calm as he eyed Tian Fan.
“Tian Fan from the Great Sealing Sect. I look forward to your guidance.”
This was something Li Yunyang had taught Tian Fan as a gesture of respect toward opponents.
Hearing this, Nie Dao also spoke, “Nie Dao from the Flying Sword Sect. Prepare yourself.”
As his words fell, a streak of green light shot out from within him, swirling above his head and rotating continuously. The spectators exclaimed in amazement.
“Is that a flying sword? How powerful!”
“As expected from an outstanding disciple of the Flying Sword Sect. His mastery of the Sword Control Technique is superb.”
“Incredible!”
Even two elders watching from the sidelines nodded in approval.
Tian Fan observed the flying sword hovering over Nie Dao’s head, the green glow circulating smoothly. It was undoubtedly impressive and much stronger than the brocade-clad Yin-Yang Sect disciple he had previously encountered. However, since Nie Dao was also only at the peak of the Condensed Spirit Realm, defeating him wouldn’t be too difficult.
“Watch out, I’m coming!” Nie Dao warned. His flying sword howled through the air, slashing toward Tian Fan as he propelled himself forward with a light step.
Facing the oncoming sword, Tian Fan’s expression remained calm. He twirled his long sword gracefully, gathering the surrounding spiritual energy along its blade. With a swift slash, a dragon-shaped sword Qi surged toward Nie Dao. Forced back by the attack, Nie Dao recalled his flying sword, which cut through Tian Fan’s dragon-shaped sword Qi, dispersing it in midair.
The two elders watching showed surprise at Tian Fan’s performance. His movements were clean and efficient, without any unnecessary flair—elegant yet decisive.
Nie Dao’s flying sword returned to hover above his head. He now wore a serious expression as he looked at Tian Fan.
“You’re strong.”
“You’re not bad either,” Tian Fan replied with a smile.
“Be careful now. I’ll be giving it my all from here on!”
Nie Dao gently reminded, and then the flying sword above his head flared with a brilliant green light, soaring through the air in all directions. At the same time, Nie Dao moved, a short sword appearing in his hand. His body shifted rapidly, creating countless afterimages and phantoms over the arena.
These illusions revolved around Tian Fan continuously, making it impossible to tell which was real and which was fake. As Nie Dao’s movements became faster, to the spectators outside the arena, Tian Fan’s figure seemed to vanish entirely, consumed by Nie Dao’s phantoms.
“This is… the ‘Hundred Illusions’ of the Flying Sword Sect! I didn’t expect Nie Dao to have mastered this technique to such a degree!” exclaimed an elder from the Fist Emperor Sect in astonishment.
“Indeed. The talent of their second disciple is truly remarkable. To achieve such mastery of the ‘Hundred Illusions’—few in the same rank can rival him,” an elder from the Yin-Yang Sect added, his brows furrowing with concern. After all, such a talented individual came from another sect.
“Haha! The Flying Sword Sect has already won! Senior Brother Nie has secured victory!” A disciple of the Flying Sword Sect shouted triumphantly, his face brimming with pride.
“The outcome isn’t decided yet. Stop jumping to conclusions!” Li Yunyang said, visibly displeased.
“Hmph! Just you wait. Soon, Senior Brother Nie will bring that guy to the ground!” scoffed another disciple of the Flying Sword Sect dismissively.
“Then let’s see! Xiao Fan will win for sure!” Li Yunyang declared, though there was a hint of worry between his brows. He knew how strong Tian Fan was, but he was also aware of the terrifying prowess of the ‘Hundred Illusions.’ Once mastered, it was said to be invincible among those of the same rank.
In the center of the arena, Tian Fan calmly observed the countless phantoms surrounding him. His expression remained serene, and his long sword emitted a faint silver glow as he suddenly swung it behind him.
Clang!
The short sword aiming for his back was blocked by Tian Fan’s long sword. At the same moment, Tian Fan sidestepped, narrowly avoiding the slash from the green flying sword descending from above.
“How is this possible?! How did he dodge Senior Brother Nie’s attack?”
The disciples of the Flying Sword Sect were stunned, their mouths agape in disbelief. Li Yunyang’s face lit up with excitement.
“This young man…” muttered the elder from the Fist Emperor Sect, his brows furrowed as he spoke in a low voice. “He’s far from ordinary. Truly exceptional.”
For the first time, Nie Dao’s face revealed shock. He stared at Tian Fan and asked, “You could see through my technique?”
“I couldn’t,” Tian Fan answered truthfully.
“Then how did you know where my attack would come from?” Nie Dao asked, holding his short sword in his right hand while the flying sword above him hovered.
“It was just a feeling,” Tian Fan replied with a gentle smile. His demeanor was elegant and refined. “The ‘Hundred Illusions’ is indeed a formidable technique. With it, few can stand against you among those of the same level. However, I possess the ‘Desire Without Trace,’ which allows me to capture your real figure with clarity. To me, it’s as if you’re moving right under my nose. You were practically a living target.”
“A feeling, huh? You’re truly strong… But I won’t give up. Just one more move—let’s settle this with a final strike!” Nie Dao’s voice was low and firm.
“Alright. One move to determine the winner,” Tian Fan responded calmly.
The two of them stood still, silently locking eyes. Nie Dao’s body surged with green light, and the flying sword above him pointed skyward. A powerful aura swept across the arena as countless streams of spiritual energy gathered from all directions. The energy converged into numerous sword beams above him, eventually forming a towering pillar of sword light.
“Take my strongest strike—Sword Intent to Heaven!” Nie Dao shouted, as the massive sword beam descended upon Tian Fan with overwhelming force.
As the towering green sword beam slashed down toward him, Tian Fan’s long sword shimmered with dazzling silver light. There were no fancy techniques or graceful movements. He simply raised his sword high above his head and swung it down with all his might.
Boom!
A deafening explosion echoed, causing the barrier surrounding the arena to tremble slightly. Nie Dao’s body was flung away, looking disheveled as blood trickled from the corner of his mouth. He flew toward the arena’s barrier, and if he collided with it, his life would be at risk, or at the very least, his cultivation would suffer greatly.
“Senior Brother, watch out! Dodge quickly!” the disciples of the Flying Sword Sect cried out in alarm.
Nie Dao’s expression was bitter. He wanted to dodge, but being injured and midair, he lacked the strength to change his trajectory. A trace of despair appeared on his face—until a white figure suddenly appeared behind him, catching him mid-flight. Supporting Nie Dao as they descended to the ground, the figure placed a hand on his back, and a gentle stream of divine power flowed into him, easing his injuries.
“You… Why?” Nie Dao asked in surprise, staring at Tian Fan, who had caught him and was now healing him.
“Heh. Brother Nie, this was just a friendly match. Friendship comes first, competition second,” Tian Fan said with a smile, withdrawing his hand from Nie Dao’s back.
“Thank you,” Nie Dao whispered, struggling to his feet. He looked toward the two junior brothers from his sect standing below the stage, then turned back toward the referees. With a steady voice, he announced, “Nie Dao admits defeat!”
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