Clad in Edward's attire, Xiao Tianyang strode through the passage and stepped into the arena.
His slow, deliberate footsteps made no sound.
Only the crisp clang of the blade handle striking the ground echoed heavily, as if each impact reverberated through the hearts of the onlookers.
Contrary to Ma Hongjun's expectations, Feng Xiaotian did not taunt or provoke.
The oppressive atmosphere was palpable.
Even if he had other thoughts, now was not the time for petty arguments.
Moreover, given Xiao Tianyang's (Edward) previous performances, the man likely wouldn't even acknowledge him…
Placing Cong Yunqie beside the arena, Xiao Tianyang walked to the center without a word.
"This participant has decided that weapons may be used in this match," the referee announced. "However, you must first prove that this blade possesses no special properties beyond its sharpness."
"How do I prove it?" Xiao Tianyang had no intention of refusing.
Not because he needed the weapon—at this level, victory was assured regardless of whether he wielded Cong Yunqie or not.
But the finals would be different.
If he rejected the request now, he might be barred from using it later.
Though confident in his own strength, unforeseen circumstances could arise. It was better to secure this advantage now, ensuring no objections could be raised in the future.
"An on-site inspection," the referee explained simply. "If no irregularities are found, you may proceed."
"No problem." Xiao Tianyang gave a slight nod before flicking his wrist—Cong Yunqie shot forward like a streak of cold light!
The referee's expression shifted.
The gleaming blade, its razor-sharp edge shimmering ominously, sent a chill down his spine.
But the true terror lay in its weight.
He had witnessed the previous match—where the weapon had struck the ground, leaving a gaping crater in its wake. The remnants of that impact were still visible, hastily patched up but unmistakable.
Yet, Xiao Tianyang had no intention of harming him. The blade halted mid-air, reversed, and hovered harmlessly before the referee.
Gathering his courage, the referee reached out—only for his body to lurch the moment his fingers brushed the hilt.
His knees buckled, arms sagging under the sheer weight as the blade effortlessly sliced into the ground, cleaving through it like a hot knife through butter.
"This…" Straining, he attempted to lift it with pure physical strength—only to fail.
In the end, he had no choice but to channel soul power into his arms, finally wrenching the blade free.
After a thorough examination, he confirmed that Cong Yunqie was indeed nothing more than an exceptionally sharp weapon.
Satisfied, he permitted its use.
As for whether the blade posed a danger to opponents…
The Spirit Hall had already considered this—and they didn't care.
In fact, they hoped Xiao Tianyang would antagonize as many people as possible.
The more enemies he made, the fewer allies he would have when the time came to strike.
And perhaps, in doing so, they could lure out the mastermind behind him.
Retrieving Cong Yunqie, Xiao Tianyang stood motionless, the blade in one hand, his windbreaker fluttering behind him.
"Edward… I know who you are." Before the match began, Feng Xiaotian spoke up.
"To be honest, you're terrifyingly strong. Enough to make even me shudder."
"But you know what? I'm not afraid to admit it—there are two things that bring me joy in life. Women, and battle!"
"If I defeat you today, I'll have both. Even if the odds are slim… at least I'll have tried my best!"
Xiao Tianyang didn't laugh. Instead, he replied coolly, "It's a fine dream to have. But have you considered what happens if you lose?"
"Then I'll pick myself up and keep going. That's my way." Feng Xiaotian hadn't expected a response, but he answered instinctively.
"You've got spirit," Xiao Tianyang acknowledged, a flicker of approval in his eyes. "But sometimes, it's better to temper ambition with realism. There's a fine line between dreams and delusions."
His words carried no mockery, only blunt truth.
Yet to Feng Xiaotian, they stung like a slap to the face.
All he could do was scoff.
After all, the man before him had every right to be arrogant.
"Both sides—prepare!"
At the referee's command, the members of Godwind Academy unleashed their spirits and took to the skies!
That's right—all seven were flying-type spirit masters!
Leading them was Feng Xiaotian, his mutated spirit—the Stormwind Double-headed Wolf!
The remaining six consisted of two attackers, two agility-types, and two supports, their spirits being the Sky Ripper Eagle, Battle Cruiser Falcon, and Weary Cloud Bird respectively.
In lower-tier battles, such a team would be nearly invincible.
After all, in the world of spirit masters, spirits and spirit rings dictated strength.
At lower levels, fewer spirit rings and weaker soul power made aerial combat an insurmountable advantage.
Thus, in the qualifiers, Godwind Academy boasted the lowest odds—and the highest victory rate.
But the true standout was their captain, Feng Xiaotian.
A mutated spirit, early development, and overwhelming power—he was a force to be reckoned with.
What's more, this was the first time he had taken to the skies in battle.
His previous opponents hadn't even warranted the effort.
As for his spirit rings?
Nothing extraordinary—just the standard optimal configuration: Yellow, Yellow, Purple, Purple.
The two teams took their positions, and the audience buzzed with anticipation.
While drawn-out battles were often more thrilling, Edward's mystique and overwhelming dominance had left an indelible impression.
Yet not everyone shared the excitement.
Most spectators in this section were fellow competitors—chief among them, Huo Wu.
She stood in the rest area, staring blankly at Xiao Tianyang's back.
"Same height, same shoulder width, same shoe size… Could it be…" she murmured under her breath.
"What are you muttering about?"
A voice startled her.
Turning, she saw her brother, Huo Wushuang, looking at her curiously.
"Brother! Why are you sneaking up on me like that?" Huo wu huffed.
"I called your name three times. You're the one spacing out," Huo Wushuang retorted, exasperated.
"Isn't that guy fighting again?" Huo wu pointed toward the arena. "Aren't you curious? How did he defeat us in a single move?"
"We've already agreed it was a soul bone," Huo Wushuang frowned. "Did you notice something else?"
"Not exactly… but something about him feels… familiar." Huo wu's gaze lingered on Xiao Tianyang, her eyes alight with curiosity.
"Little sister… don't tell me you've taken a liking to him?" Huo Wushuang's sudden remark sent a flush burning across Huo wu's face.
She whipped her head away, hiding her expression.
"Brother! Don't spout nonsense!"
…
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