"Hiyaaaa!" one of the men shouted as he rushed at Lian, blade raised high.
The sword came straight for his face. Taking a small step back, Lian weaved aside—the blade cutting past him so closely he felt the wind of it. Behind him, three arrows whistled through the air in succession. Channelling Qi beneath his feet, he leapt upward just as they struck the ground.
Bang! Bang! Bang!
The arrows exploded, carving a giant crater into the arena floor.
"It seems I can't underestimate them," Lian thought, ducking as two more attacks came at him from both flanks. He flipped twice in the air, landing lightly near the edge of the ring.
"Mmm… is he using micro-steps?" Elder Yang murmured from the stands. "For his movement technique to be that refined at his age… this child truly has talent in the movement arts. But his Qi seems to be lacking."
A few moments later continued dodging. He was already adapting—using minimal Qi, blocking, dodging, and studying their patterns.
"Is that all you can do? Dodge?!" Bao roared—the swordsman who had first attacked.
Bao shifted his stance; the air around him tightened.
"Striking Shadow Flow!"
He roared as his figure split into five identical copies. All five lifted their swords and thrust downward at once, dark Qi gathering at their blades. A violent gust followed as the slashes tore the ground apart on their way toward Lian.
"That's too dangerous, I need to get out of the way!" Lian sprang to the side, sweat falling from his face.
"Too late," Chan muttered from above.
And arrows dropped from the sky right toward Lian.
"Damn it," Lian cursed.
He spun toward the arrow diving for him. Frost Qi swirled around his right hand, condensing into an ice wall that spread across the ground. Using micro-steps, he weaved through the rain of arrows descending toward him.
"Ouch—" a stray arrow clipped his sleeve as he dropped to the ground.
"What kind of tec-"
Boom!
Bao's attack crashed into the ice wall, shattering it instantly and blasting Lian backwards until he skidded near the edge of the ring.
"Oho…" he coughed, forcing himself upright. He had no time to breathe—the other two attackers were already charging at him.
Lian exhaled sharply. Frost Qi burst from under his feet, coating the ground in a thin layer of ice. The two attackers lost their footing as their momentum slipped out of control; their blades swung past him, missing by inches.
"Hu…" Lian breathed, sliding out of the barrage before springing back to steady himself. He stood tall again, catching his breath.
"You know… he's actually not bad," someone in the crowd muttered.
More murmurs followed.
"Why were people calling him trash?" a spectator asked.
"Mmm… I don't know. Everyone else called him trash, so I just went along with it," another admitted.
"Old Xing, who is that boy's teacher? Is his mother from the Ice Palace?" an envoy asked curiously.
"Yes, I'm quite curious as well. I thought only the successor from the ice palace can use ice technique", Empress Li added, her voice sharp and probing.
"You fool—can't you see? It's not Ice Palace arts. It's just ordinary frost Qi," Elder Yang said sharply.
"I've fought against Ice Palace cultivators before. Their ice arts are nothing like that boy's technique," he added, scowling at the two envoys who had spoken.
"Yes, Old Yang, I see what you mean. I was simply surprised," the envoy muttered.
Patriarch Xing said nothing. He only listened quietly; his gaze fixed on Lian.
"Let's finish him!" Chan roared.
"My poison arrow already hit him!"
"Hu… hu… hu…" Lian's breathing was heavy, but his eyes sharpened.
"Yeah, looked at him, he is breathing heavily", the other three added.
Lian's vision was blurry as he tried to keep track of all four of them.
Then clarity struck him.
It wasn't that Lian Xing was weaker. In fact, it was the opposite. The Qi he gained from the Fire Essence had pushed him into a pseudo- Foundation state; his Qi was two times that of his realm, or rather, it is correct to say his Qi was denser. What he lacked wasn't strength; it was experience.
Real battle experience.
And now, he finally had it.
"I see it all," Lian whispered. "How their Qi swells before they attack… how their muscles tense… how their bodies shift. I can see it all."
He stood perfectly still and closed his eyes.
"What are you giving up now?" Chan barked.
Everything went silent around him.
His right foot stretched forward, his left rooted firmly to the ground. One fist curled: the other opened with the palm facing upward.
"Yin–Yang Lotus…" he murmured.
Under his feet, a glowing lotus trigram unfolded—its petals expanding outward until half the entire ring was covered in shimmering light.
"Lian Xinggggg!"
Bao roared as he attacked, his blade wrapped in Qi so dense it rang like a bell when he thrust it forward toward Lian.
"That one shows promise," an envoy remarked. "Blade Resonance—he must have trained endlessly to achieve that."
Lian met the strike with his open palm. Frost Qi spread across his skin and absorbed the blade's force. At the same time, his other fist ignited with fire Qi. With elegant, spiralling force, he struck Bao square in the stomach.
Boom—!
Bao flew off the stage instantly.
Two attackers came from his sides. Lian's body flowed like water—slipping between their strikes, letting the blows pass harmlessly. Then, with a twist of his wrists, he redirected both of their energies.
Crack!
The two men collided with each other, falling to the ground in a tangle of limbs.
"Song of Fire and Ice!" Lian declared.
Arrows rained down. He weaved through them gracefully, freezing some mid-air with shards of ice, burning others into dust with flicks of flame.
"Woaaah! Haaah!"
The crowd erupted, watching him move with impossible fluidity—every dodge, every counter a perfect blend of control and instinct.
"It's like he is dancing", someone pointed out.
The two men he had knocked down staggered back up and charged again. Lian's movements grew faster—so fast it looked as if he had an extra pair of hands. One set blocked, the other struck, his attacks and defences blending seamlessly in a dance of cold and heat.
"I must have that boy," Empress Li thought to herself, eyes gleaming.
"Truly remarkable," Elder Yang said, stroking his beard. "Softness and hardness in perfect union… that boy has already grasped the concept of Yin and Yang."
"I wonder if I should take him as a disciple." Elder Yang's eyes light up.