Chapter 52

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Chapter 52: Injured

They were evenly matched!

Yet gasps rose from disciples below the platform—they believed Duan Chenfeng had lost ground. He’d fought bare-handed Ye Yun while using a replica of the Great Sun Boxing Gloves.

Even enhanced by such a powerful low-grade spiritual weapon, Duan Chenfeng’s attack failed to defeat Ye Yun. This shocked both the spectators and Duan Chenfeng himself.

"Not bad!" Duan Chenfeng narrowed his eyes, face hardening into uncharacteristic coldness.

Ye Yun crossed his arms. "You either."

Since gaining the black and white lights, his mindset had shifted completely.

He felt neither joy nor frustration—no envy for Duan Chenfeng’s Celestial Techniques and weapons, no pride in matching the glove-wielding opponent with bare fists.

"What comes next won’t be so easy."

Duan Chenfeng’s spiritual power surged into his flickering folding fan. With a shout, the fan erupted into over a hundred sword shadows.

"Are all these real?" Ye Yun murmured as sword arcs materialized. His calm shattered, replaced by tense focus.

He couldn’t distinguish real from fake. Failing to dodge meant facing dozens of strikes. One hit could pierce his flesh.

Spiritual power flooded Ye Yun’s veins. Though unable to see through the illusions, his Marrow Cleansing-enhanced eyes detected fewer sword arcs on the left flank.

No time to hesitate.

Ye Yun lunged left instead of retreating—backing might let Duan Chenfeng adjust attacks. He thrust palms toward fifteen sword arcs, aiming to shatter them.

The sword arcs froze mid-air.

Then exploded.

Hundreds of needle-thin blades bypassed Ye Yun’s defense, streaking toward his body.

Ye Yun threw himself sideways. Three sword arcs struck home. Blood bloomed across his left arm and shoulder, staining the green robe.

"Expected worse." Duan Chenfeng smirked, pausing instead of pressing his advantage.

Ye Yun ignored his wounds, analyzing the trap—that weak spot had been bait. This Duan Chenfeng hid cunning beneath his brash exterior.

Below, disciples gaped. Qu Yiping paled—he’d assumed he could match Duan Chenfeng, but now realized that exchange would’ve killed him.

"His combat instincts… impressive."

"I never expected such an arrogant fool to attack so ruthlessly."

"This batch of new disciples is too strong! If every group’s like this, there’d be no place left for us."

"After years of struggle, we’re still Yellow Robed Disciples. Even without new disciples joining, our paths remain bleak."

"Unbelievable that he ended up claiming first place. This disgusts me!"

"Enough chatter. Look—Ye Yun doesn’t seem ready to yield."

The crowd buzzed with disbelief. Ye Yun’s shoulder and left arm had been pierced by sword arcs—injuries nearly impossible to heal quickly. By all logic, this final match should’ve ended. Yet when someone shouted, they saw Ye Yun gripping a spirit stone instead of surrendering.

"Still fighting? Think absorbing spiritual energy will help?" Duan Chenfeng scoffed, momentarily stunned.

Ignoring him, Ye Yun closed his eyes and focused entirely on drawing energy from the stone.

Disciples below exchanged confused glances. Elder Lan and Elder Chunyu Yan also shared a look.

Both fighters had exhausted much spiritual power in their clash. Though Duan Chenfeng wielded multiple spiritual weapons, each one drained his reserves faster. Draining Duan Chenfeng’s power while preserving his own seemed Ye Yun’s only hope. Yet to calmly replenish energy while gravely injured revealed terrifying mental discipline.

"Why won’t he surrender? Is he begging Duan Chenfeng to kill him?" Frustrated cries rose from new disciples.

"Brother Ye never acts without purpose. He must believe he can still win," Yu Minghong said calmly, eyes fixed on Ye Yun with an unreadable glint.

"Wasting time," Duan Chenfeng sneered.

At that instant, Ye Yun’s eyes snapped open.

Before Duan Chenfeng could react, Ye Yun shot forward like lightning. Spiritual power surged within him, flooding the arena with violent energy. His fists struck alternately—his left arm seemingly unharmed—each blow shimmering with pale light and crackling sparks.

"Bring it!" Duan Chenfeng roared, slamming his Great Sun Boxing Gloves forward.

BOOM!

Their fists collided in a white flash, hurling both fighters backward. They flipped midair and landed on the stage.

Gasps erupted from the crowd.

"Again!" Duan Chenfeng barked, face twisting with rage.

Black light suddenly flashed in Ye Yun’s hand. A dark sword arc—the Obsidian Sword—shot toward Duan Chenfeng like a death-bringing dragon.

CLANG!

The low-grade spiritual weapon struck Duan Chenfeng’s chest… but met metal. Ye Yun yanked the blade, tearing Duan Chenfeng’s teal robes to reveal a blue shadow beneath—a defensive spiritual weapon!

Defensive gear was rare. Attack-focused weapons dominated, as overpowering foes negated defense. Offensive tools like the Obsidian Sword simply concentrated power at the tip. But defensive items required uniform reinforcement across all areas, demanding more materials and skill.

Yet Duan Chenfeng wore soft armor shielding his entire torso—an unimaginable treasure even for Tian Zhu Peak’s outer disciples.

"Another defensive spiritual weapon?!"

"These new disciples are monsters. No wonder they qualified for sect trial tasks."

"Three low-grade weapons! His boast about gaining medium-grade ones at the Qi refining stage wasn’t empty."

"It’s over for Ye Yun."

As whispers spread, a grim-faced Ye Yun somersaulted back across the stage.