Chapter 540 - 536: Successive Defeats
"You let me win."
Yang Yuan withdrew her hands and cupped her fist in a salute.
Han Wei opened his mouth as if to say something, but in the end, he just clasped his hands in a salute, turned, and walked back to his seat.
A low murmur of discussion arose in the hall.
"Han Wei of the Bronze Elephant Sect is ranked thirty-third on the Celestial Pride List. He’s not weak, yet he couldn’t even take three moves—or to be precise, not even one."
"This Yang Yuan is only ranked twenty-fifth, but her strength is clearly far beyond that. She was definitely hiding her true abilities."
Next, disciples from several other major powers came up to the stage to challenge her.
Without exception, all of them were defeated by Yang Yuan. No one lasted more than three moves.
Yang Yuan’s attacks were perfectly measured. Each time, she would force her opponent back and then withdraw, neither injuring them nor causing them too much embarrassment.
But this effortless poise only made everyone present more aware of how terrifying her strength was.
Yang Yuan stood firm in the center of the open space, offered a fist-and-palm salute, and her gaze fell upon the seats where the Seven Sects were gathered.
"Senior Brothers and Sisters of the Seven Sects, would any of you care to offer some pointers?"
Her voice was clear and her demeanor composed, showing neither provocation nor stage fright.
The young disciples of the Seven Sects exchanged glances, their expressions grim.
They weren’t fools. They had seen the strength of the previous challengers.
For Yang Yuan to defeat them so easily, her strength was definitely not limited to the twenty-fifth rank on the Celestial Pride List.
But refusing the challenge was impossible.
The Seven Sects could not afford to lose face like that.
"I’ll go."
From the Netherworld Pavilion’s side, Meng Xian was the first to stand. He straightened his robes and walked toward the dueling platform.
Since You Xin’s death, he had become the head disciple of the Netherworld Pavilion.
But this head disciple was not well-regarded, neither within the Sect nor outside it.
Some said he was unworthy, that he had merely filled the vacancy left by You Xin’s death, that his strength was far inferior to You Xin’s.
He had been bottling up a fierce determination, and now was his chance to prove himself.
Meng Xian came to a stop in the center of the platform. He gave Yang Yuan a fist-and-palm salute, his voice steady.
"Meng Xian of the Netherworld Pavilion. I ask for your guidance, Miss Yang."
Yang Yuan nodded slightly and raised a hand, gesturing for him to begin.
Meng Xian took a deep breath, and the aura around him erupted.
Third Grade.
The oppressive might of a Third Grade Martial Artist radiated out from him.
Low gasps of surprise rippled through the seats.
"Meng Xian broke through to the Third Grade?"
"After You Xin died, the Netherworld Pavilion poured all its resources into training him. It seems to have paid off."
"Early Third Grade... With that level of strength, he’s guaranteed a spot in the top ten of the Celestial Pride List."
Fang Han held his teacup, his gaze calm.
He wasn’t surprised that Meng Xian had broken through to the Third Grade.
With the Netherworld Pavilion pouring everything into his training, providing limitless resources and Cultivation Techniques, it would have been strange if he *hadn’t* broken through.
Meng Xian moved.
His body transformed into a streak of black light, shooting straight for Yang Yuan.
His right hand formed a palm strike as ink-black Inner Qi gathered frantically, then lashed out.
It was the Netherworld Pavilion’s top-level Martial Art—the Nether Palm.
The Palm Seal was so condensed it looked solid, carrying a bone-chilling wind as it aimed straight for Yang Yuan’s chest.
This palm strike was both fast and vicious; he was clearly using his full strength.
CLAP—
Yang Yuan’s expression didn’t change. Her right hand shot out, fingers slightly curved, and clamped down on the wrist of Meng Xian’s striking right hand.
It was the exact same technique she had used against Han Wei.
But Meng Xian was no Han Wei.
WHOOSH—
His left palm was already striking, aimed at Yang Yuan’s waist.
Yang Yuan’s left hand shot out and similarly clamped down on Meng Xian’s left wrist.
The two were locked in a stalemate, motionless.
Meng Xian’s face flushed red. The Inner Qi in his body surged wildly as he tried to break free from Yang Yuan’s grip.
But Yang Yuan’s hands were like a pair of iron pincers, holding him fast, not budging an inch.
The next instant, Yang Yuan twisted her hands sharply. Meng Xian felt his arms go numb, and his body spun half a circle involuntarily, his back now facing her.
THUMP—
Yang Yuan pressed her right hand lightly against Meng Xian’s back.
The press was exceedingly light.
But Meng Xian’s body staggered forward several steps, and he nearly fell.
He steadied himself and turned around, his face ashen.
Yang Yuan offered a fist-and-palm salute, her voice as clear as before.
"You let me win."
Meng Xian opened his mouth as if to speak, but in the end, said nothing. He simply clasped his hands in a salute, turned, and walked back to his seat.
His back was ramrod straight, but Fang Han could see that the fingers of his sword hand were trembling slightly.
A brief silence fell over the hall.
"Meng Xian... actually lost?"
"An Early Third Grade expert, and he couldn’t even last three moves?"
"This Yang Yuan... what is her Cultivation level?"
Yang Yuan stood in the center of the open space, gave a fist-and-palm salute, and once again looked toward the seats of the Seven Sects.
"Are there any other Senior Brothers or Sisters willing to offer some pointers?"
Being called out so pointedly and consecutively, the young disciples of the Seven Sects all looked grim.
Mad Saber set his wine bowl down on the table with a heavy thud.
He stood up. The broad-bladed greatsword, as wide as a door panel, was strapped to his back. He looked like a moving iron tower as he strode toward the platform.
"Mad Saber of the Overlord Blade Sect. I ask for your guidance, Miss Yang."
His voice was rough, echoing through the hall.
Yang Yuan nodded slightly and gestured for him to begin.
Mad Saber did not stand on ceremony.
He drew the greatsword from his back. Its blade was black as ink and wide as a door panel, glinting with a cold light under the candlelight.
Gripping the saber with both hands, he channeled his Cultivation, which had already reached the Middle Stage of Third Grade, and slashed out.
This strike had no fancy Transformations, only pure, ultimate force and speed.
The Sword Gang was ten feet long, carrying a Mountain-Splitting Stone-Shattering Momentum as it cleaved directly at Yang Yuan.
Yang Yuan’s expression tensed slightly as she unsheathed the pair of silvery-white claws from her waist.
With a claw in each hand, she advanced instead of retreating, meeting the incoming Sword Gang head-on.
CLANG—!!!
The shriek of metal on metal exploded across the platform, making the cups and bowls tremble.
The two figures blurred as they crossed paths, the glint of the saber and the shadows of the claws weaving together, sending Qi Force blasting in all directions.
Mad Saber’s Saber Technique was fierce and domineering, each slash carrying a Mountain-Splitting Stone-Shattering Momentum.
Yang Yuan’s Cultivation was in no way inferior to Mad Saber’s. Moreover, her Claw Technique was nimble and cunning, always finding a way to slip through the gaps in Mad Saber’s Sword Momentum, forcing him onto the defensive.
After several dozen moves, Yang Yuan seized a tiny opening after one of Mad Saber’s slashes and her figure suddenly closed in.
Her left claw parried Mad Saber’s defending greatsword, while her right claw pressed lightly on his shoulder.
The press was exceedingly light.
But Mad Saber’s body shuddered violently, and he stumbled back several steps, falling off the platform.
He steadied himself, glanced down at his shoulder, then raised his head to look at Yang Yuan.
The muscles on his rough face twitched slightly, then he broke into a grin and hoisted the greatsword back onto his shoulder.
"I lost."
He gave Yang Yuan a fist-and-palm salute, then turned and strode back to his seat.
Yang Yuan sheathed her claws and offered a fist-and-palm salute.
The murmurs in the hall rose and fell, like a pot of water just about to boil.
"Mad Saber lost, too..."
someone repeated in a low voice, a hint of disbelief in their tone.
"Her strength is definitely enough to rank in the top five of the Celestial Pride List."
another person added, their voice hushed as if afraid someone from the Tiejiang Gang would overhear.
"The Tiejiang Gang... they sure know how to hide their strength."
In the minds of the various major powers, their assessment of the Tiejiang Gang was quietly changing.
A single Grandmaster was enough to be the face of a top-level power.
A True Disciple ranked in the top five of the Celestial Pride List was enough to prove that this power had worthy successors.
The Tiejiang Gang’s status in the eyes of Qingyang County’s major powers was now approaching that of the Seven Sects.
Yang Yuan stood in the center of the open space, breathing lightly.
The consecutive battles had taken a toll on her.
A faint blush colored her lovely face, and fine beads of sweat appeared on her forehead.
She took a Jade Bottle from her sleeve, uncorked it, and poured a longan-sized Elixir into her mouth.
The Elixir dissolved the moment it entered her mouth. A warm Medicinal Power spread through her body, and her breathing visibly steadied.
Everyone’s eyes fell on the Jade Bottle, and someone recognized the Elixir’s origin.
"An Essence Replenishing Pill."
An old man spoke in a low, astonished voice.
"This pill is extremely difficult to refine, and its ingredients are incredibly rare. Even among the Seven Sects, few disciples can afford to carry one."
To use such a precious Elixir in a mere sparring match...
Yang Yuan put away the Jade Bottle and offered a fist-and-palm salute. Her gaze fell once more on the seats of the Seven Sects, her voice still clear.
"Are there any other Senior Brothers or Sisters willing to offer some pointers?"
The young disciples of the Seven Sects all looked grim.
After two consecutive losses, the Netherworld Pavilion and the Overlord Blade Sect had already lost face. If they lost again, the Seven Sects would be utterly disgraced.
Liu Bai, seated with the Lingyun Sword Sect, tapped his fingers twice on the table, his brow slightly furrowed.
He was slightly stronger than Mad Saber, but only by a limited margin.
Since Mad Saber had lost to Yang Yuan, his own chances of winning if he went up were just as slim.
He lifted his gaze, looking past the crowd toward the Qingxuan Sect’s seats—or more precisely, at Fang Han.
It wasn’t just Liu Bai. The gazes of the younger generation of the Seven Sects, the younger generation of all the major powers, and even some of the elders all turned toward Fang Han.
One after another, like invisible threads, they converged on Fang Han from all corners of the hall.
After two straight defeats, the Seven Sects’ honor was tarnished. They needed to reclaim it.
And Fang Han was the only one among the younger generation of the Seven Sects who was certain to defeat Yang Yuan.
’Looks like I have no choice but to step in!’
Fang Han stood up, straightened his robes, and strode toward the platform.
His green robes stirred slightly, the Cloud Splitting Sword hung at his waist, and his pace was unhurried.
"Fang Han of the Qingxuan Sect."
He stopped about ten feet away from Yang Yuan, offered a fist-and-palm salute, and spoke in a steady voice.
"I ask for your guidance, Junior Sister Yang."
At that moment, the murmuring in the hall abruptly fell silent.
All eyes were fixed on the figure in green robes.
Yang Yuan’s gaze locked onto Fang Han, filled with unconcealed scrutiny and fighting spirit.
Her target, from the very beginning, had been Fang Han.
Ever since she could remember, she had been secretly trained by the Tiejiang Gang, never revealing her true strength in public.
Her twenty-fifth rank on the Celestial Pride List was a facade she had deliberately maintained.
After years of holding back, she finally no longer needed to.
At this Grandmaster’s banquet, in front of all the top-level powers of Qingyang County, she would defeat Fang Han, number one on the Celestial Pride List, and make a name for herself in one fell swoop.
"Senior Brother Fang, forgive my offense."
Yang Yuan’s voice was clear as she unsheathed the pair of silvery-white claws from her waist.
The bodies of the claws were silver, their blades shimmering with a cold, sinister light.
She moved.
An aura even stronger than before erupted from her body.
Late Stage of Third Grade—her Cultivation had actually reached the Late Stage of Third Grade!
Her figure transformed into a silvery-white streak of light, her speed astonishing, leaving only a distorted afterimage in the air.
Her claws slashed out in a crisscross pattern. Ten silver claw marks tore through the air with a piercing shriek, sealing off all of Fang Han’s escape routes from every angle.
This attack was faster, more vicious, and more cunning than the one she had used against Mad Saber.