Chapter 177: The Warrior
The round-robin finals continued. Song Yan subsequently faced Zhao Xuan, Sun Zhengfu, and Chen Chen in succession.
Sun Zhengfu had been losing steadily. The earlier elimination bouts seemed to have sapped his will to fight anyone.
When he encountered Song Yan, he conceded with clean decisiveness.
Zhao Xuan and Chen Chen, however, approached with a spirit of friendly exchange. Each took the stage and fought a proper bout against him, and both were undoubtedly defeated.
“Isn’t Song Yan having it a bit too easy? Why don’t any of these people have any backbone…”
When faced with someone far superior, there would always be those who harbored certain emotions and grumbled a few words.
“Aside from that match against Senior Sister Yuwen, he’s barely had to move his flying sword at all.”
“Heh, what do you know? Xiang Zhaoling, Lin Qing, Shao Sichen—Zhao Xuan and Chen Chen included. Which of them isn’t a ruthless fighter?”
“Their concession only proves that Song Yan’s strength has made them feel there’s no point in fighting stubbornly. Preserving their strength is the only way to secure a better ranking.”
“But he’s having it far too comfortably.”
Song Yan sat in the preparation area, his expression placid. He paid no heed to the discussions around him, merely quietly regulating his breath and restoring his spiritual energy.
Though he had won three or four matches without a fight, he knew in his heart that the true battles were imminent.
Before long, the presiding elder’s voice rang out once more.
“Center Arena, Number Seventeen Song Yan, versus Number Twenty, Han Yuan.”
Song Yan slowly opened his eyes.
Han Yuan—he had taken note of the man before.
The fellow had entered the Dao through martial arts, a rare sort of body cultivator.
“Han Yuan? That martial artist from the jianghu?”
“I hear his strikes are ferocious, and he’s at the eighth level of Qi Refining.”
“If he hadn’t fought his way through, he might have actually been able to contest with those two.”
“A pity. I heard he was already over twenty when he entered the Dao. Otherwise, with his talent, he’d likely be at the ninth level of Qi Refining by now—perhaps even Foundation Establishment.”
“I’m not so sure. His obsession with the path of body refinement will lead him to a dead end.”
In the current cultivation world of the Chu Kingdom, no matter which path one primarily cultivated, it did not affect how others perceived a person.
Unless that person walked the path of body refinement.
In the eyes of the vast majority, moderate body refinement was naturally beneficial—strengthening the meridians, stabilizing the Dantian and qi sea, and so on.
But to make body techniques one’s primary cultivation—how was that any different from a mortal martial artist?
In the early and middle stages of Qi Refining, body cultivators did indeed hold some advantage in combat. But once one reached the late stages of Qi Refining, they became woefully powerless.
In short, it was a dead end.
Song Yan had heard something of this, but what path another walked was none of his concern.
He would not look down upon his opponent because of it.
He ascended the Debate Arena with measured steps.
Across from him, Han Yuan already stood waiting. The man’s frame was imposing, his muscles knotted and dense, his fists covered in calluses—clearly the product of years spent tempering the body.
Even after successive battles, he still gave Song Yan the impression of facing an immovable mountain.
Han Yuan grinned and clasped his fists. “Junior Brother Song, your reputation precedes you. Today I finally have the chance to learn from you!”
Song Yan returned the salute. “Senior Brother Han, you’ve fought several bouts in succession. Would you like a moment to catch your breath?”
During the competition, if both parties jointly requested a pause, they could take half an incense stick’s time to rest.
In practice, however, such agreement was seldom reached.
When one’s opponent was weary, one struck. Those with strength to spare would seize such an opportunity to claim victory without hesitation.
To Song Yan’s surprise, Han Yuan slowly shook his head. “Junior Brother Song, you are kind-hearted, but there is no need.”
“In a true life-and-death struggle, an opponent would never grant me such a courtesy.”
Song Yan nodded, silently admiring the man’s resolve.
The presiding elder issued the command—let the battle begin!
Han Yuan wasted no words. With a thunderous stomp, he launched forward like a ferocious tiger, his fist wind howling as it bore straight for Song Yan’s face!
Fast—but not fast enough.
Song Yan’s gaze sharpened. He activated the Cloud-Traversing Intent, shifting his body to the side, narrowly evading the punch. Yet Han Yuan pressed on without pause, his fists raging like a sudden storm, wide and sweeping, each blow wreathed in fierce spiritual energy that sent the air humming.
A flicker of change crossed Song Yan’s expression. He silently marveled, What ferocious fist techniques!
He did not rush to counterattack, instead employing sword qi to shield his body while constantly dodging, observing the patterns of Han Yuan’s strikes.
Yet the fist force was tremendous. Even a glancing blow sent Song Yan’s protective spiritual energy and sword qi scattering.
Han Yuan was equally astonished.
This initial exchange felt to him as though he had punched straight into a blade’s edge—the sword qi ground against his fists until they ached.
“This Junior Brother Song is known for his sword qi and flying swords. Only by closing in and fighting at close range is there even a sliver of a chance!”
Song Yan’s mind raced. I cannot drag this out!
With a thought, Green Snake Within the Sleeve erupted violently. Masses of emerald sword qi coiled outward like serpents, driving straight for Han Yuan!
Han Yuan roared, smashing both fists together. A wave of dense spiritual energy detonated outward, forcibly shattering several streams of sword qi!
The remaining two streams of sword qi still tore through his meager protective spiritual energy, leaving several bleeding lines across his arms.
Han Yuan laughed in the face of injury. “Again!”
He charged forward once more, his fists even more savage, willing even to trade wound for wound, forcing Song Yan to meet him head-on.
Only then did Song Yan snap out of his established combat mindset.
A body cultivator’s entire arsenal resided in a frame forged through a thousand temperings and a hundred refinings.
Wasting effort to break through his protective spiritual armor was entirely unnecessary.
Song Yan’s brow furrowed slightly. Han Yuan’s fighting style was too brutal. If the exchange continued, though Song Yan could ultimately claim victory, the expenditure would be considerable.
He drew a deep breath, his sword finger tracing an arc, and unleashed Untethered Vessel!
Sword light shot forth like lightning, piercing straight for Han Yuan’s chest!
Han Yuan’s pupils contracted. He crossed both arms to block, yet the sword qi was devastatingly sharp, instantly shredding his protective spiritual energy and driving him back several steps!
Han Yuan grunted, lowering his head to examine the sword marks on his arms. He grinned. “Excellent swordplay!”
“Is he really that tough?” Song Yan muttered inwardly. The man was clearly far more formidable than his own half-baked body refinement.
Han Yuan drew a deep breath. The spiritual energy around his body surged and boiled once more, preparing for a final gambit.
Yet after the preceding series of fierce battles, the already meager spiritual energy within him had become nearly impossible to marshal.
There was no respite on the Debate Arena. Song Yan’s figure vanished in a flash!
In several flickering movements, Song Yan appeared before him. A light touch of his sword finger, and a thread of sword qi rested against the center of Han Yuan’s brow.
“Senior Brother Han, I humbly accept your concession.”
Han Yuan blinked, then burst into hearty laughter. “Good! I concede!”
He raised his hand in surrender without the slightest trace of reluctance.
The presiding elder announced in a resonant voice, “Center Arena, Number Seventeen Song Yan wins!”
Han Yuan walked forward and clapped Song Yan on the shoulder, laughing. “Junior Brother Song, your reputation is well-deserved. I, Han Yuan, am fully convinced! If you have leisure in the future, let us spar again!”
Song Yan nodded. “Senior Brother Han, your fist techniques are formidable. Had you not been so depleted from earlier, the outcome would have been far from certain.”
Han Yuan waved his hand with easy grace. “A loss is a loss. I was outmatched. There is nothing more to say.”
“If I were truly as strong as you, then when others faced me, they would naturally concede as well.”
“Otherwise, why didn’t they concede when they faced me?”
He laughed aloud. “It comes down to nothing more than the belief that perhaps they could defeat me.”
“So the reason I have fought until exhaustion is not because of any other cause…”
“In the end, it is simply because I was not strong enough.”
With that, he smiled with open candor and strode off the Debate Arena with great strides.