Han Qixing watched Chen Ziming's retreating figure, his eyes slightly widened.
What a powerful spell!
Beside him, Han Xuan spoke in a low voice, "The Chen Family specializes in thunder-attribute techniques. That Thunder Severing Finger you just saw is one of their signature spells."
Han Qixing listened intently.
"It's a high-burst finger technique," Han Xuan continued, "Its greatest strength lies in penetration. Ordinary defensive spells are nearly useless against it."
He paused, then added seriously, "If you encounter a Chen Family disciple in battle, you must not give them time to gather the momentum. End the fight quickly."
Han Qixing nodded.
"Of course, if you use Starlight Mirror Reversal," Han Xuan added after a moment, "Countering it won't be a problem. Still, the Three Great Families have their own signature spells. Although your spells are quite powerful, you must not underestimate them.
Han Qixing nodded, "Don't worry, Father. I will never underestimate my opponent."
Suddenly, he fell into thought. He murmured, "Father, the Chen Family seems particularly hostile toward the Lu Family..."
Han Xuan gave a small, knowing smile, "That's nothing unusual. The Three Great Families have always been at odds. Their rivalry is no secret among cultivators in Blueleaf Town."
These three families compete over everything, such as resources, influence, and even opportunities like this one.
Han Qixing's expression grew calm once more.
Soon, the sixth match was announced.
"Number 6 versus Number 6."
Lu Haoran stepped forward calmly.
Opposite him stood Chen Ziyu, a Chen Family member at the Sixth Stage of Qi Refining. His expression was cautious, clearly aware of the gap between himself and Lu Haoran.
After a brief exchange of names, the battle began.
Lu Haoran did not rush.
He advanced steadily, his palms glowing as fire-attribute spiritual energy gathered, waves of heat rolling outward from his body.
"Blazing Sun Palm."
A blazing palm imprint shot forward, flames roaring like a sudden burst of summer heat. Chen Ziyu hastily raised a defensive spell, but the fire tore through it with crushing force, sending him tumbling backward.
Before Chen Ziyu could regain his footing, Lu Haoran was already there.
His palm stopped just short of Chen Ziyu's chest.
The result was unmistakable.
"I concede," Chen Ziyu said through clenched teeth.
Lu Haoran withdrew his hand and stepped back.
He did not sneer, nor did he offer comfort.
As Lu Haoran stepped out of the arena, he paused briefly.
His gaze shifted—not toward his defeated opponent, but toward Chen Ziming, who was watching from outside the ring.
Their eyes met.
Lu Haoran gave him a cold, indifferent glance, then turned and left without a word.
Chen Ziming's expression darkened instantly.
"Tsk, did you see Chen Ziming's face?" Wang Xiaohu couldn't help but laugh under his breath.
Wang Dazhu immediately reached out and smacked the back of his son's head, "Shut up, brat. Do you want to get yourself into trouble?"
He lowered his voice, "Look at your Uncle Han. He got himself plenty of trouble just by offending a Chen Family member. Do you think you have the same ability as your Uncle Han?"
Wang Xiaohu stiffened and shut his mouth at once.
"…" Han Xuan stood nearby, momentarily speechless.
Soon, the gray-robed official spoke again, announcing the next match.
"Next battle, Number Seven versus Number Seven."
Han Qixing's gaze sharpened.
It was his turn.
"Do your best, little brother!" Wang Xiaohu whispered encouragingly.
"..." Han Qixing paused for half a breath.
He still couldn't quite understand why Wang Xiaohu had started calling him 'little brother' when they had only met three days ago.
But he said nothing.
With steady steps, he walked toward the arena.
Inside the arena, the two youths faced each other.
They cupped their fists.
"Han Qixing," Han Qixing said calmly, "Fourth Stage of Qi Refining."
A faint stir rippled through the crowd.
Opposite him, the other youth raised his chin slightly, "Chen Zirui. Fifth Stage of Qi Refining."
At the name, the murmurs grew louder.
"This boy sure is unlucky…"
"Of all people, he ran into a Chen Family disciple. But then again, most of the remaining participants are from the Three Great Families anyway."
"True. Encountering someone from a small family or a loose cultivator at this point is almost impossible."
"And his cultivation base is the lowest among them. How is he supposed to win?"
Whispers overlapped, doubt thick in the air.
Han Qixing heard none of it.
Or rather, he chose not to.
His gaze never left his opponent.
This was his first real battle against someone outside his family.
This time is not training or sparring.
It is a true contest.
He clenched his fingers slowly, steadying his breathing.
No matter what, he had to fight properly.
He could not embarrass his father.
"Boy," Chen Zirui sneered, rolling his shoulders, "It's your bad luck to meet me. Concede now unless you want to get hurt."
Han Qixing did not rise to the provocation. He simply cupped his hands politely, "Please."
The gray-robed old man raised his voice, "The match begins!"
"Tch, don't blame me!" Chen Zirui barked as he lunged forward.
The two closed the distance instantly.
Fists collided, palms clashed, legs swept—pure hand-to-hand combat.
Chen Zirui attacked aggressively, striking fast and heavy, but each time his blow was about to land, Han Qixing was already gone. His movements were compact and efficient, his steps precise to an almost uncanny degree.
To Chen Zirui's growing frustration, not a single hit connected.
Why can't I touch him?!
Han Qixing's eyes were calm.
In his vision, every movement was clear—muscle tension, shifts in balance, the subtle delay between attack and recovery.
Then, he saw an opening.
He stepped in sharply and kicked out, his foot striking Chen Zirui squarely in the chest.
"Gah!" Chen Zirui was sent flying backward.
Before he could even steady himself, Han Qixing had already drawn his sword.
With a clean motion, he dashed horizontally.
Chen Zirui's pupils shrank.
In panic, he tore a talisman from his sleeve and crushed it.
"Eat this, brat!"
Thunder erupted.
A roaring thunder snake burst into existence, crackling violently as it lunged toward Han Qixing.
"Thunder Snake Talisman?" Han Qixing halted mid-motion.
Then, with an oddly mature calmness, he lifted his sword vertically before his chest.
His wrist turned.
The sword traced a swift, fluid circle—clean and precise, without the slightest excess movement. A faint starlike glimmer bloomed in the air, lines of light intersecting as a star-shaped mirror formed before him.
The thunder snake slammed into it—
And was silently absorbed.
The crackling lightning vanished as if it had never existed at all.
"Starlight Mirror Reversal."
Suddenly, the disappeared thunder snake reappeared an instant later, but its trajectory was completely reversed.
Straight toward its original master.
"What?!" Chen Zirui cried out in shock.
In a moment of shock and disbelief, he had no time to dodge and defend.
BOOM!
Thunder exploded across the arena.
When the light faded, Chen Zirui lay sprawled on the ground, smoke curling faintly from his robes—unconscious.
The plaza fell into stunned silence for a moment before it broke into a commotion.
"What just happened?"
"How did he generate a thunder snake?"
"Did he also use a talisman?"
"That's impossible. I didn't see him take anything out, let alone activate it."
"Then how did he do it? A thunder-attributed spell?"
"It might be… but doesn't it look exactly the same as Chen Zirui's Thunder Snake Talisman?"
Confused whispers surged through the plaza, overlapping and growing louder by the second.
It wasn't just the ordinary spectators who were puzzled.
Even the gray-robed old man narrowed his eyes slightly, his gaze fixed on Han Qixing.
As an experienced cultivator from a major sect, he had seen countless techniques and spells, but this was different.
There was no talisman involved.
That much, he was certain.
It was certainly a spell.
But what kind of spell, he couldn't immediately tell.
"What a strange spell…" The gray-robed old man muttered softly as he stroked his beard, "Not only that, this child also has an excellent combat instinct. Facing someone stronger than himself, he remained calm, calculated every strike, and counterattacked decisively the instant an opening appeared."
He nodded faintly.
"Not bad at all. A very good seed."
Outside the arena, Zhao Wenjie let out a short laugh and turned toward Chen Ziming. He said mockingly, "Well, Chen Ziming, isn't this ironic? A family famous for thunder-attribute techniques, defeated by a thunder spell."
He paused deliberately.
"And by an unknown brat, no less."
"Hmph," Chen Ziming snorted coldly, "He's just relying on a talisman."
"Oh?" Zhao Wenjie raised an eyebrow, smiling faintly, "Is that so?"
Before Chen Ziming could retort, another voice joined in.
"Zhao Wenjie, stop provoking him," Lu Haoran said lazily, a hint of amusement in his tone, "He's already sensitive after having two family members lose so miserably. Push him any further, and he might attack you on the spot."
Chen Ziming's face darkened. He ground out, "Lu Haoran, just you wait. When we meet on the stage, I'll make you kneel and beg in front of everyone."
"That's very unlikely," Lu Haoran replied with a chuckle.
With that, he shifted his gaze back toward the arena, where Han Qixing still stood calmly.
"Interesting kid…"