Chapter 40: Taking Action

Yin Tianfang rushed toward the main peak, and before he even drew near, he could hear the surging cheers that crashed like waves. Countless disciples of the Profound Dao Sect crowded the martial arena atop the main peak, making the place utterly impenetrable. Standing upon his sword in midair, Yin Tianfang gazed toward the center of the throng and was momentarily taken aback.

Upon the arena, Nuo Lan wielded a long sword. Though her swordplay was fierce, she was forced back again and again by Liu Feng's relentless assault. With Liu Feng's strength, defeating Nuo Lan was hardly a challenge, yet he seemed in no hurry to finish the bout, as if waiting for something.

“Nuo Lan, though she has had her share of fortuitous encounters, simply isn’t strong enough. Her defeat is only a matter of time,” remarked an elder of the Profound Dao Sect from the viewing stands.

“She hasn’t used her strongest technique yet, has she?”

“She knows that even if she does, she’s no match for Liu Feng. So she chooses not to use it. Besides, with her current cultivation, it’s little more than an auxiliary spell—hardly stronger than ordinary techniques,” another elder explained.

“Still not going to show it? Well then, don’t blame me for showing no mercy!” Liu Feng’s face hardened. He halted his attacks and shouted, thrusting his hand forward. An enormous phantom hand grasped Nuo Lan, lifting her slowly into the air. No matter how she struggled, the tremendous force held her fast.

The grip tightened; Nuo Lan’s cheeks flushed crimson, her breath coming in rapid gasps.

A cold gleam flashed—a sword, radiating deadly intent, flew straight for Nuo Lan’s brow. This was clearly an attempt to kill.

The sect tournament had strict rules: combat must stop before killing blows. Yet Liu Feng paid no heed to such restrictions.

“No!”

“Stop!”

The sudden turn of events sent the elders on the viewing platform leaping to their feet, shouting urgently. The head of the Liu family was equally shocked.

Their actions were swift, but there was someone faster. Just as their cries rang out, a cold gleam shot into the arena.

A metallic clang resounded as a sword collided fiercely with Liu Feng’s blade, sending sparks flying. Both swords rebounded, and a figure dashed onto the platform with lightning speed. With a wave of the hand, the giant palm imprisoning Nuo Lan exploded into fragments.

Nuo Lan tumbled from midair, but an arm caught her around the waist, gently lowering her onto the arena floor. Liu Feng’s sword pointed at Nuo Lan had sent shivers through everyone. Now, with a sudden savior intervening at the critical moment, the crowd was stunned yet again.

In just a brief instant, hearts surged and emotions roiled. All eyes, filled with astonishment and confusion, stared at the newcomer standing atop the platform.

“Who is he? He’s incredible!”

“No idea, I don’t think I’ve seen him before.”

“He looks so young,” the crowd murmured below the arena. Most had never seen Yin Tianfang before, nor even heard of him. Yet a few recognized him, their faces painted with deeper confusion.

“When did this kid become so powerful?” Ge Bin stared, wide-eyed, at Yin Tianfang. He knew him well, always thinking their cultivation levels were about the same. But with that strike, Yin Tianfang revealed a mastery at the third tier of Qi condensation.

From the viewing stands, the elders of the sect and the heads of the various families looked on in bewilderment. Especially the elders of the Profound Dao Sect—with only a thousand outer disciples, each one was the future of the sect, and they naturally knew them all.

Yet Yin Tianfang was a stranger to them.

“Where did this kid come from? Is he really one of our disciples?”

“I don’t know him at all,” some elders muttered, shaking their heads. A mysterious disciple of such strength was not necessarily a blessing—it could well be a curse, or even a spy planted by a rival sect.

As confusion swept the crowd, an old man appeared atop the stands. He gazed calmly at Yin Tianfang standing on the arena and spoke, “No need for guessing. That boy is mine.”

“Greetings, Elder Xuan Yin!” At his arrival, the elders’ expressions shifted; they quickly bowed in respect. Though they were all elders, before Elder Xuan Yin, the others bowed, showing his exalted position within the sect.

The heads of the various families, seeing Elder Xuan Yin, were at first puzzled. But as the other elders saluted him, their eyes changed and they followed suit. Elder Xuan Yin ignored them, his gaze still fixed on the arena.

On the stage, Yin Tianfang stood calmly, one arm around Nuo Lan’s waist, the other holding his sword, staring at Liu Feng.

Liu Feng threw back his head, mouth open as if laughing, but no sound emerged—a strange sight. His gaze suddenly locked onto Yin Tianfang, and his lips curled slowly. “So you’ve finally appeared!”

“You were waiting for me?” Yin Tianfang asked, puzzled. “What for?”

“Of course—to wipe away past humiliation! I’ve been training hard for half a month, all for this day! I thought you’d watch your woman die beneath my blade, but it seems you can’t bear it,” Liu Feng sneered, shaking his head.

“The allure of women is the grave of heroes. Today, you are destined to die on this stage for a woman!” Liu Feng declared coldly. “Cultivation demands an undivided heart—only then can you find your true self and glimpse the path to immortality. You cannot do this. Die!”

With a clear shout, Liu Feng’s sword trembled in his hand. He stomped the ground and charged straight at Yin Tianfang. Yin Tianfang frowned, watching Liu Feng’s charge, and muttered under his breath, “What nonsense is this?”

A soft laugh escaped Nuo Lan, who was still in Yin Tianfang’s arms, as she heard his words. Only then did she realize she was still held close by him; her cheeks flushed, shy and delicate.

“You’d better go down,” Yin Tianfang said, gently sending Nuo Lan off the arena.

“Be careful!” Nuo Lan called anxiously from outside the platform.

“Don’t worry, I’ll be fine,” Yin Tianfang replied without turning, stepping firmly onto the stage and charging at Liu Feng, sword in hand like thunder.

Amid the crowd, Lin Tian gazed at Nuo Lan, whose eyes now held only Yin Tianfang. Her face was shyly radiant, tinged with blush. Lin Tian clenched his fists, jealousy raging unchecked in his heart.

With a cold snort, he cast one last gloomy glance at Yin Tianfang on the stage, then turned and left…