"Fang Han of the Qingxuan Sect is victorious."
The voice of the referee, Xuanyuan Jing, rang out, declaring Fang Han's victory.
Fang Han flicked his wrist, sheathing his Cyan Blade Sword, and waited for the next opponent.
Mo Yuan clenched his fists so tightly that his nails dug deep into his palms. His body trembled slightly from the extreme humiliation and unwillingness to accept defeat.
His current situation was remarkably similar to that of Yin Bin, the very person he had just called a good-for-nothing.
He gritted his teeth and walked off the arena stage without a word, his figure cutting a desolate silhouette.
Over at the Qingxuan Sect's area.
"He won that easily?"
A trace of surprise flashed through Yun Qianyue's and Li Feng's eyes.
They had expected a fierce battle, since the opponent, like Fang Han, was at the Early Stage of Eighth Grade.
But they never thought it would end so quickly and decisively.
