Chapter Twenty-Eight: The Dark Horse

Yang Yan’s overwhelming victory caught everyone by surprise. It was a long moment before the audience in the stands regained their senses. The youth who had once endured ridicule and scorn would, from this day forward, finally shed the label of “good-for-nothing.”

Though the first round of victory was not particularly arduous, none of those selected by the great families to participate in the tournament were anything but the best of their generation in Jinhuan City. Yang Yan never underestimated any of his opponents. To know oneself and one’s enemy is the key to a hundred victories; thus, observing the duels of others brought him considerable benefit.

“Brother Yang Yan, tell me, how did you manage to cultivate spiritual power...” On the viewing platform, Ziling had returned to her usual playful self, her large dark eyes sparkling as she shook Yang Yan’s arm, pleading with him.

Seeing Ziling, who had been weeping moments before, now beaming with joy, Yang Yan felt slightly speechless and couldn’t help but inwardly grumble, “Women truly are fickle creatures.” He then began to recount his story, blending truth with a touch of fabrication.

There were twelve participants in this grand tournament, paired off for six duels. By the time all six matches concluded, the sun was already high in the sky, yet the lively and fiery atmosphere of the arena showed no sign of waning—instead, it only grew more intense.

Of the six who advanced, the Zhang and Xu families each had two representatives, with one from the Sun family and one from the Liu family. Besides Xu Shaoguang, two others caught Yang Yan’s attention: Liu Zhengqing of the Liu family and Sun Zhixin of the Sun family.

Liu Zhengqing faced off against Zhang Fei, one of the Zhang family’s contestants. In Yang Yan’s eyes, Zhang Fei’s abilities were no different from Li Yang, his own first-round opponent. Yet, after exchanging only three moves, Liu Zhengqing sent Zhang Fei reeling with a single punch, blood spewing from his mouth, defeated in an instant.

A hush fell over the crowd. All were astonished—since when had the little-known Liu family produced such a remarkable figure?

The youth, not particularly tall, stood straight and proud, enveloped in a pale golden aura of metal elemental spiritual power. A sharp and unstoppable presence radiated from him; in Yang Yan’s eyes, the boy resembled a gleaming spear.

As for Sun Zhixin, the graceful girl who had been seated next to the elegant matron in the Sun family’s section, she astonished Yang Yan even more. She appeared younger than him, yet her raw strength matched his own; she, too, was at the peak of the second level of the Spiritual Sensing Realm. That alone was impressive, considering Yang Yan had “wasted” nearly two years at the Body Tempering Realm. What truly surprised him, though, was her precise control over her spiritual power.

Sun Zhixin, like Xu Shaoguang, possessed an innate fire body. However, the gulf between their mastery of spiritual energy was vast. Most cultivators at the Spiritual Sensing Realm relied on martial arts techniques or simply coated their bodies with spiritual power for attack or defense. Yet Sun Zhixin’s manipulation of her inner power went far beyond what Yang Yan had seen among his peers.

The pale red fire spiritual energy danced at her command, able to condense into various weapons for attack. Even more formidable, she could channel her power to any part of her body with a mere thought. This meant that in battle, no one could afford the slightest lapse in vigilance—any part of her body might become a deadly weapon at any moment.

Her opponent from the Xu family was overwhelmed within ten exchanges, forced into a flustered defense by her shifting firepower. Before long, a moment’s carelessness allowed a “crimson fist” of spiritual energy to strike his chest, knocking him unconscious.

“This tournament truly is a gathering of hidden dragons and crouching tigers,” Yang Yan mused to himself. “Everyone is concealing their true strength. Winning first place might not be as easy as I imagined.”

Thus, the first day of the tournament ended amid the crowd’s reluctant departure, yet the excitement of the day’s battles lingered. People continued to discuss the matches with relish, speculating on who would ultimately claim the crown.

With two unexpected dark horses emerging, the previously favored Xu Shaoguang, and Yang Yan—the “good-for-nothing” young master who had burst onto the scene—were all but forgotten by the crowd, relegated to mere supporting roles.

Of course, Yang Yan himself paid no mind to the rumors and discussions. Now that news of his breakthrough to the Spiritual Sensing Realm had spread throughout the family, he no longer needed to confine his training to the night. Zhang Tai had asked him how he had suddenly gained the ability to sense and absorb spiritual energy. Yang Yan did not mention the mysterious space or the “Nine Nether Lunar Art,” merely stating that, for reasons unknown, the icy core within him had vanished, allowing him to refine and gather spiritual power. He withheld the full truth from Zhang Tai, wishing to surprise him.

Zhang Tai did not pry further. So long as Yang Yan could cultivate, Zhang Tai’s greatest worry was resolved—he was overjoyed and paid little heed to anything else. As both Yang Yan’s father and the patriarch of the Zhang family, Zhang Tai placed great importance on the coming day’s matches. Upon returning home, he immediately led Yang Yan to the family’s “Treasure Vault” to select a suitable artifact.

Though the Zhang family’s vault could not compare to those of ancient cultivation sects, years of accumulation, along with recent rewards from the Qingxuan Sect at previous tournaments, had brought their collection of spiritual artifacts close to fifty.

According to the family rules, only the patriarch or those who had made significant contributions to the clan were permitted to enter the vault and choose treasures. Though Yang Yan did not yet qualify, his advancement to the Spiritual Sensing Realm marked him as a future pillar of the Zhang family. Given that the tournament’s outcome directly affected the family’s interests, even the more conservative elders raised little objection to Zhang Tai’s decision.

Already in possession of “Moonshadow Frost,” Yang Yan was uninterested in other offensive artifacts. After browsing for a while, his gaze settled on a suit of armor faintly shimmering with a blue glow.

“This is the Azure Scale Armor,” Zhang Tai explained with a smile. “It’s forged from the scales of a tier-two beast king, the Blue Sea Shark Whale. It’s a low-grade spirit artifact, but its defense is quite impressive.”

“This one will do,” Yang Yan replied, placing the armor into his storage pouch and politely declining his father’s offer to select more treasures. Without further delay, he left the residence and made his way toward the wooded hills behind the estate.