Chapter 43

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Chapter 43: Admit Defeat

"Your name is Ye Yun. I heard your advice during the Hall of Refining the Heart’s trial."

As Ye Yun landed on the stage, the young boy stood still, his voice flat and emotionless. "Don’t worry—I won’t kill you today. Remember me: Murong Wuhen. We’ll meet again."

Ye Yun’s brow furrowed. It wasn’t the boy’s arrogance that troubled him, but his inability to sense Murong Wuhen’s cultivation level. The boy showed no spiritual power waves, yet his presence felt unnervingly dense.

"He must have a spiritual weapon," Ye Yun said, eyeing him. "That’s why he’s so confident."

"Attack," Murong Wuhen replied calmly, as if Ye Yun weren’t worth his attention.

"Then brace yourself."

Ye Yun stepped forward, and the spiritual power inside him surged like raging tides. He felt no arrogance toward Murong Wuhen—instead, a quiet dread settled in. This boy might be the strongest opponent he’d faced since joining the Heavenly Sword Sect, possibly rivaling even Qu Yiping and Duan Chenfeng.

The roar of waves echoed from Ye Yun’s body, startling even yellow-robed disciples. His power surpassed typical Internal Breathing stage cultivators.

Murong Wuhen stood motionless, giving only a cold snort.

"Who *is* he? He came from the West Hall."

"Never noticed him before. His earlier fights dragged on."

"His aura’s strange—probably hiding a spiritual weapon."

New disciples below muttered, struggling to recall Murong Wuhen despite his recent matches. He’d slipped past their notice like a shadow.

Above the Martial Hall’s stage, Elder Lan and others—previously resting—now stared at Murong Wuhen, their eyes sharp.

"Murong Wuhen? We overlooked him," Elder Chunyu Yan remarked, smiling at Elder Lan.

"Murong…" Elder Lan frowned. "Could he be connected to *that* person?"

"Watch and see." Chunyu Yan’s gaze swept over the third stage.

Murong Wuhen suddenly looked up, his eyes piercing Chunyu Yan’s direction.

"He sensed me?" Chunyu Yan blinked, then chuckled. "Interesting."

Murong Wuhen turned back, eyelids lowering. "Ye Yun. Why hesitate?"

Ye Yun tensed. When Murong Wuhen glanced away, a surge of danger prickled his skin, his blood heating. But just as he prepared to strike, a cold clarity washed through his mind—a familiar chill from Elder Seven’s spiritual wine remnants.

Without that spiritual liquid’s lingering effect, he might’ve fallen into a trap.

"You claim not to have attacked," Ye Yun said coolly, "but you already did, didn’t you?"

For the first time, Murong Wuhen’s mask cracked—a flicker of surprise in his eyes.

"You’ve surprised me, but this is good. Otherwise, your cultivation level would’ve been too low for me to use you later." Murong Wuhen’s voice still held youthful undertones, yet his words dripped with arrogance that seemed carved into his bones.

Ye Yun glanced at him as if to speak, but in that instant, he lunged forward. A faint white glow flickered around his right fist as his Punch Shadow tore through the air with a sharp hiss.

He’d used full strength.

Murong Wuhen radiated danger.

The rush of wind struck Murong Wuhen first. Instead of alarm, a glimmer of excitement flashed in his eyes. "Not bad!"

Ye Yun’s punch held no flair—no Celestial Techniques, just basic combat skills. Yet its spiritual power surpassed anything the fifth stage of body refinement (Refining Organs) could endure. This simple strike carried force rivaling advanced techniques.

Murong Wuhen didn’t evade. He stepped forward, his own fist blazing with soft light, meeting Ye Yun’s blow head-on.

Boom!

Their fists collided. The impact sent invisible energy waves ripping outward, shuddering the air.

Deadlock.

Both fighters now stood swapped on the arena, neither yielding.

"That punch could challenge sixth-stage body refinement practitioners—the Connecting Orifices stage. Who knew you’d refined spiritual power to such purity?" Murong Wuhen’s brief surprise had vanished, leaving only condescension.

Ye Yun stayed silent, shock cooling into icy wariness. Their punches had canceled perfectly—impossible unless Murong Wuhen had matched his strength precisely after seeing the attack.

Murong Wuhen gestured for him to continue.

"No."

After a pause, Ye Yun shook his head. "I concede."

"What?"

The crowd stirred. To them, the clash seemed evenly matched—a mere warm-up.

Murong Wuhen blinked, unprepared for surrender.

"I’m outmatched. The elders see it too—no penalty for yielding." Ye Yun spoke flatly, calm restored. One punch proved Murong Wuhen’s spiritual power surpassed his. Worse, the opponent could influence minds—a rarer skill than Celestial Techniques. Continuing might expose the black and white lights’ secret to watching elders.

"To stay this rational now… I’ll have to reassess you." Murong Wuhen smiled cryptically.

"I concede. Don’t disappoint me next round, Ye Yun."

With a laugh, he leapt off the platform.

"What’s happening?"

"Ye Yun surrendered, then HE quit too?"

Chaos erupted below. Disciples gaped, bewildered.