The Arena had transformed into a battlefield of raw energy and fierce ambition. Each of Si Ming's victories had left the crowd roaring in excitement, but now, as he stepped forward to challenge the next opponent, the air grew tense with anticipation. The stakes were higher, the challenges fiercer, and the pressure suffocating. Yet, Si Ming's expression remained calm and composed, his resolve unshaken.
His next opponent, Song Qingshan, stood among the top five ranked disciples of the Outer Sect. Known for his unparalleled skill with dual swords and his mastery of Phantom Blade techniques, Qingshan was a force to be reckoned with. His every movement carried a deliberate grace, the air around him humming faintly with the concentrated Qi of the late Body Refinement realm, almost teetering on Foundation Establishment.
The two locked eyes as they stepped onto the stage. Qingshan's swords gleamed under the sunlight, their edges sharp and deadly. "You've risen far in a short amount of time," Qingshan said, his tone calm but with an edge of pride. "But this is where your climb ends."
Si Ming met his gaze evenly, the faintest of smirks playing on his lips. "You're welcome to try and stop me."
The referee raised his hand, signaling the start of the match. Almost immediately, Qingshan disappeared from view, his Phantom Blade technique creating flickering images of his form all across the stage. The crowd gasped as the clones moved in unison, their swords flashing as they closed in on Si Ming from every direction.
But Si Ming didn't flinch. Instead, he closed his eyes and activated Void Resonance Meditation, a technique that heightened his Qi sensitivity to an extraordinary degree. To the untrained eye, the stage appeared chaotic, but to Si Ming, the world came alive in sharp clarity. He could feel the faint ripples of Qi that distinguished the real Qingshan from his illusions.
As the clones struck, Si Ming reacted with precision. He sidestepped one attack, his converted sword parrying another. His movements were fluid and efficient, each step calculated to conserve energy while deflecting the flurry of strikes. The crowd watched in awe as Si Ming dismantled Qingshan's initial onslaught with almost nonchalant ease.
"You're good," Qingshan admitted, his clones dissipating as he reappeared a few feet away. "But let's see how you handle this!"
Raising both swords, Qingshan unleashed a blinding flurry of slashes, each one infused with spiraling Qi. The energy from his attacks carved deep gouges into the stage, creating a dazzling display of skill and power. Si Ming narrowed his eyes, his grip on his sword tightening as he prepared to counter.
He stepped forward, using the Celestial Blade Arts with a smooth motion. The crowd watched in stunned silence as Si Ming executed Moonlit Dance, his blade moving in sweeping arcs that intercepted Qingshan's strikes with pinpoint accuracy. Each clash of their swords sent shockwaves rippling through the Arena, the sound ringing like a symphony of steel.
The battle escalated into a blur of motion, the two fighters moving with such speed and precision that it became nearly impossible for the crowd to follow. Si Ming's calm demeanor never wavered, even as Qingshan's attacks grew more aggressive.
"Impressive," Qingshan said between strikes. "You're more than I expected. But you haven't seen everything yet."
With a sharp cry, Qingshan activated his ultimate move: Phantom Slash Barrage, a technique that created multiple ethereal swords that struck in tandem with his real ones. The stage was suddenly filled with flashing blades, each one aiming for Si Ming's vitals.
The crowd gasped, certain that this would be the end. But Si Ming remained unfazed. Summoning the full force of his Qi, he activated Barrier Formation, surrounding himself with a shimmering dome of energy. The phantom swords clashed against the barrier, their impacts creating sparks of light and sound.
As the barrage slowed, Si Ming lowered the barrier and countered with a move that took Qingshan by surprise. He combined Thousand Winds Barrage with the precision of Crescent Moon Slash, creating a swirling vortex of slicing Qi that tore through the remaining phantom swords. The force of the attack sent Qingshan reeling, his defenses faltering.
With a final, decisive strike, Si Ming closed the distance between them. His sword cut through the air in a blinding arc, stopping just inches from Qingshan's neck. The crowd fell silent, the tension palpable as they awaited the referee's decision.
"Winner: Si Ming!" the referee declared, his voice breaking the silence.
The crowd erupted into cheers and disbelief, their excitement reaching a fever pitch. Qingshan sheathed his swords and stepped back, bowing slightly to Si Ming. "You've earned this victory," he said, his tone sincere. "But don't get complacent. The challenges only get harder from here."
Si Ming nodded, his expression unreadable as he prepared for the next battle.
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