Seeing Ling Xiao and Lan Yuer’s chummy demeanor, Hei Suo felt his world go dark.
If an inner disciple felt this way, imagine the outer disciples.
They gritted their teeth, wishing they could trade places with Ling Xiao.
“Senior Sister, I’m heading over.”
Ling Xiao turned back.
“Go, be careful.”
Lan Yuer meant to show concern, but her words stayed icy, her habit of masking herself hard to break.
Ling Xiao stepped onto the challenge platform.
This platform, a specially crafted treasure, couldn’t be easily damaged, even by Mortal Realm martial artists.
The strongest outer disciples were only half-step masters, not yet Mortal Realm, so it was plenty sturdy.
On the platform, Ling Xiao scanned the crowd. Yang Cheng and Li Anle hadn’t arrived, but outer sect figures like Zhao Zhi, Xu Ying, and Zhao Ci were present.
Everyone wanted to challenge quasi-inner disciples.
Beyond higher stipends, it meant more cultivation time, no heavy labor, just management duties.
Higher ranks brought greater authority, status, and even freedom from management, allowing daily cultivation with rewards far exceeding other outer disciples’.
Oh, and the top ten got their own cave abodes, comfy and rich in spiritual energy, doubling cultivation efficiency.
Soon, Yang Cheng and Li Anle arrived.
Even Elder Bai showed up.
For challenges involving the top ten outer disciples, Elder Bai always attended, showing the sect’s regard.
“Ling Xiao, step down for now. Today, Yang Cheng faces two challenges. Let him fight the other first, then you face Li Anle. Staggering them ensures fairness,” Elder Bai called Ling Xiao off the platform.
Ling Xiao glanced at Yang Cheng.
He could guess Yang Cheng’s mindset.
If Ling Xiao dared challenge two at once, Yang Cheng, ranked tenth, wouldn’t shy from the same.
“Now, outer sect rank fifteen, Liu Qiang, challenges rank ten, Yang Cheng!”
This was a clash between quasi-inner disciples.
One ranked fifteenth.
One ranked tenth.
Both half-step masters, immensely strong.
Liu Qiang had once challenged third-ranked Jin Ming and lost disastrously.
This time, learning his lesson, he picked Yang Cheng, the lowest of the top ten.
Normally, Yang Cheng was the weakest of the top ten, beating him meant a cave abode and richer resources.
The top thirty was one tier.
The top ten, another.
Those below thirty aimed for it.
Those within, for the top ten.
Seeing Liu Qiang, Yang Cheng smirked, “Can’t beat Jin Ming, so you challenge me? Think I’m a pushover?”
“Storm Sword Art!”
As Yang Cheng spoke, he thrust his sword, fine, rain-like sword light enveloping Liu Qiang densely.
Relentless, terrifying.
Liu Qiang, wielding a steel saber, used all his skill, parrying frantically to block Yang Cheng’s assault.
Two half-step masters clashed, their aura’s shockwaves rippling, affecting the crowd below.
Many outer disciples felt the aura’s tremor, their true essence nearly siphoned, intensely uncomfortable.
“Such terrifying power, and it’s not Mortal Realm?”
“This is a half-step master, not yet Mortal Realm, but some techniques rival Mortal Realm First Layer strength!”
“Far stronger than Martial Vein Ninth Peak!”
Spectators, from new outer disciples to those eyeing the top thirty, were awed by the spectacle.
Never having seen half-step master duels, they now realized their invincibility.
Moonlight Sect, founded 100,000 years, had rare cases of Martial Vein Ninth Peak defeating half-step masters, absolute anomalies.
Martial Vein Ninth Late Stage or below? Impossible to win, a near-truth in the sect.
Thus, hearing Ling Xiao, at Martial Vein Eighth Peak, aimed to challenge Li Anle and Yang Cheng, they scorned and mocked him as cluelessly overambitious.
Even Hall Master Yang and Lan Yuer doubted he could do it.
On the platform, though both Liu Qiang and Yang Cheng were half-step masters, the gap was vast, factoring in techniques, true essence, and combat skills, Yang Cheng was far superior.
Pfft, pfft, pfft…
The seemingly gentle sword moves erupted with stunning power.
Poor Liu Qiang, despite desperate defense, saw his protective true essence pierced like tofu, riddled with holes, wretched.
His body, too, bore multiple wounds, tiny blood holes spraying.
Ling Xiao frowned slightly.
Yang Cheng’s Storm Sword Art, a mere Gold-Grade Entry-Level technique, was mastered to perfection, wielded with intuitive precision, near flawless.
Liu Qiang, by contrast, was far inferior.
Yang Cheng’s arrogance had its basis.
In just over ten moves, Liu Qiang, without a chance to counter, was bloodied and battered.
Sensible enough, he conceded, avoiding further humiliation.
“Too strong, this is Yang Cheng’s power? No wonder he’s top ten!”
“Right, Liu Qiang’s terrifying, said to have beaten Li Anle in three moves, yet Yang Cheng crushed him in a dozen, total domination.”
“Can that Ling Xiao last one move?”
“Heh, I doubt it!”
The crowd buzzed, already skeptical of Ling Xiao, and seeing Yang Cheng’s strength, they doubted him more.
Zhao Zhi frowned, calculating, if he faced Liu Qiang, he’d fall in one move, yet Liu Qiang lost so badly.
He took a deep breath, relieved he hadn’t rashly challenged, or as a prince, such a humiliating defeat would’ve left him faceless.
“Compared to Yang Cheng, Ming Tian’s nothing, at least in strength,” Xu Ying judged.
Ming Tian might have greater potential, but when he left White Cloud Province for Moonlight Sect, he was far behind Yang Cheng.
Even Liu Qiang outclassed Ming Tian back then.
