The atmosphere in the arena had shifted from the theatrical dominance of the previous rounds to a cold, clinical tension as the golden vortex in the ceiling pulsed with a rhythmic, heartbeat-like thrum, signaling the commencement of the final bout of the second trial.
"FIGHT!"
The voice of the Heaven Piercing Saint boomed, the sound wave alone causing the dust on the arena floor to dance in frantic patterns.
Immediately, the two remaining participants—Number 9, a lithe swordsman from a mid-tier Northern sect, and Number 10, the mysterious cloaked figure—engaged in a blur of motion.
Shen Haoran leaned back against a cold stone pillar, his golden eyes narrowing as they locked onto the hooded figure of Jiang Chen.
He didn't look at the exchange of blows or the technique of the swordsman; he looked at the spiritual foundation beneath the tattered brown cloak.
