The rain fell at an angle as the wind blew.
There was dead silence on the hunting grounds of Qiuling Demon Portal.
Zhou You was on the ground, bleeding from his nose and mouth. He stared blankly at the darkening horizon with a chill in his heart.
He lost in the worst way possible.
Zhou You figured Fang Lang was able to top the honor roll due to his exceptional performance in the theory and written component of the Imperial Examination. Fang Lang was a newly-minted sword master and Zhou You was at a similar level.
However, Zhou You was trashed decisively.
The boy under Jiang Linglong's protection was undoubtedly unique.
Rain splattered on Zhou You's miserable face.
At that moment, no one paid attention to Zhou You who had two incisors missing from the battle. Everyone's eyes were on Fang Lang.
The boy returned to the black sword that stood erect—he leaned on the Obsidian Sword.
Fang Lang's tone was gentle but his words oozed confidence. When he grinned, the whole world went silent.
A distance away, atop a tree branch, Wen Ting's eyes shimmered.
"Second-class martial arts master?"
This was Fang Lang's trump card?
Wen Ting never noticed Fang Lang cultivating the martial arts discipline—to think he was a martial arts master. Wen Ting thought he knew the boy but evidently, the truth was far from that.
No wonder Fang Lang was able to achieve first place in both the theory and combat assessments.
Wen Ting looked at the fallen Zhou You impassionately and turned his attention to the upcoming battle.
A mob?
In response to Fang Lang's words, the students from Changan Academy and the Imperial Academy exchanged looks.
To attack him all at once… Would it be unethical?
They were students of top-tier academies who came to fight Fang Lang for a chance to change their fates. If they fought and won as a group, who would win the favor?
Fang Lang saw the hesitation in the students' eyes—worry bloomed in his chest.
The fools were going to escape.
No!
Fang Lang grinned wildly. He craned his head and shouted at the group of students, "Come on! Hit me! Here! You bunch of dirty cowards!"
He leaned on his sword and pointed at his skull.
The tone in his voice was full of mockery.
Silence persisted but emotions were boiling like hot oil.
Wen Ting uncorked his gourd canteen and took a swig of wolfberry tea to calm himself.
'The boy was too antagonistic for his own good!
'Such crassness! Such flagrance!'
Even Wen Ting felt like punching Fang Lang.
The Changan and Imperial Academy students narrowed their eyes—anger roiled within them.
Never had they seen someone speak so boldly.
Who did he think he was? The challenge was irresistible.
One against many, did Fang Lang believe his energy center was limitless?
The Changan students exchanged a look—they no longer cared about their pride. They set out in a ferocious arc of white light, tearing through the autumn rain with screams.
The air was filled with sounds of swords unsheathing, spell-chanting and vital energy pumping.
Like a handful of jewels striking a jade plate, chaos erupted across the hunting grounds.
The show of power made the raindrops explode into steam.
A mob fight?
As you wish.
Dozens of Changan and Imperial Academy students charged at Fang Lang, their rampage kicking up mud and soil.
Murderous intent filled the atmosphere.
The martial arts masters were the first to make contact.
Their bodies were protected by blood armor and their footsteps made the ground shake as if there were a horde of galloping stallions.
One of the approaching martial arts masters clenched his fist and angled his body. He leaped forward like a coiled spring released and aimed a punch at Fang Lang.
The heavy strike seemed to make the air particles vibrate. The air currents rushed backward as the fist descended.
Fang Lang's eyes twinkled. He turned aside and revealed the sword box on his back.
He extended his hand. His forefinger and middle finger touched the sword guard and tugged forward.
Shing!
The blade energy in Fang Lang's energy center spun like a cyclone. The Blooming Lotus Sword shot forward with a frightening force.
The sword flew hilt first and left a silvery streak in its wake.
The falling raindrops were split apart by the fast-moving Blooming Lotus Sword. The intricate carvings on the sword were akin to the veins on a lotus flower petal. The speed at which the Blooming Lotus Sword moved put gravity to shame as the rain staggered.
The martial arts master from Changan Academy was struck in the chest by the hilt of the Blooming Lotus Sword. His blood armor dissolved upon contact like a popped bubble.
The head-on collision between two high-speed objects resulted in a loud crash.
The Changan Academy student had a dent in his chest—blood stained his white robe. His body was flung back on the same flight path and he crashed onto the ground, causing mud to splatter everywhere.
The expressions of the charging students changed.
The Blooming Lotus Sword returned to Fang Lang's hand and he activated his Spirit Step. Afterimages appeared as he moved in the rain.
He drew the Obsidian Sword from the ground. Sword Draw Technique! The earth acted as the sheath for the ink-black sword.
A snake-like crack split the muddy ground.
As the mob drew closer, Fang Lang rushed forward fearlessly, like a lone raft taking on the huge ocean waves.
'Ding! Congratulations on defeating the challenger. You have been rewarded with the spiritual energy of ten low-grade spirit crystals.'
'Ding! Congratulations on defeating the challenger. You have been rewarded with the spiritual energy of ten low-grade spirit crystals.'
…
Fang Lang's energy center was constantly being depleted and replenished!
The two swords danced synchronously. At that moment, the swords were akin to a demon's punishing mace and an immortal's whip, bulldozing through the group of Changan students!
The autumn raindrops turned into mist. The bodies spilled blood as they sailed through the hazy atmosphere.
…
Rain continued to fall.
An elegant figure walked along the main street of Changan City, oil paper umbrella in hand. His footsteps were steadfast and did not disturb the pools of rainwater.
He headed toward the gates of Changan.
After greeting the guards, he left the city. His foot came down on the ancient limestone path beyond the city perimeters.
He stopped.
The environment was silent but for the raindrops striking the umbrella.
He lifted his head and gazed into the distance. A youth with short hair stood in the rain with a black sword strapped to his back—the raindrops battered his body.
The youth had his back to him. When the elegant teen approached, the youth turned.
"Wei Sheng?" Li Yuanzhen said. The autumn rain lingered on his elegant face and a look of surprise crossed his face.
As Wei Sheng turned, a smile formed on his face.
"Are you going to the demon portal's hunting grounds?"
An intrigued look crossed Li Yuanzhen's face. "I'm considering. Are you here to stop me?"
Wei Sheng sighed. "I'm not confident I'd win against you but my mentor has asked me to look after him… I don't have a choice, I owe him too much. I can't let you go. Also, if you want to fight him, it should be during the final section of the Imperial Examination, not at the hunting grounds."
The excitement on Li Yuanzhen's face intensified. After a moment, he let out a low chuckle. "Interesting. Then, I shall have a warm-up exercise with Brother Wei before the final section begins."
As soon as he was done talking, Li Yuanzhen made a tugging motion with his slender fingers.
A raindrop rolled down the umbrella. He pulled the droplet into a string, plucking it like one would a stringed instrument.
The sound of a rushing waterfall resounded after the string of water was strummed.
Beneath Li Yuanzhen's feet, the rain puddles shifted to form a rune.
The rain froze in the air and as he played his imaginary tune, the raindrops transformed into arrows that shot at Wei Sheng.
Wei Sheng scratched his head and smiled sheepishly.
Then, he pulled out the dark sword on his back. A bolt of black lightning shattered the earth.
…
Droplets of unequal size fell from the sky, pattering the cedarwood carriage—the splashes looked like plum blossoms.
Water rained down on the driver in a red-hooded robe.
The expensive-looking custom silk blinds swayed in the winds, occasionally revealing the noble figure sitting inside the carriage.
The carriage wheel made tracks in the mud but the rain quickly erased the trail.
The horse carriage came to a gentle halt. The horse's warm breath could be seen as it stood motionless.
A mountain ridge away, a green-robed youth was fighting dozens of white-robed students.
The blinds of the carriage slowly parted. A pair of eyes stared out into the distance. Through the heavy rain, he watched the ongoing battle.
"What an impressive honor roll student. It is no surprise he ranked first and took the city by storm," a lazy voice spoke from the carriage.
"No wonder he managed to kill Lin Yun. Sect Leader Nan, what do you think of him?" the third prince asked.
The red-hooded figure trembled and lifted his head. An old man with a unibrow was under the hood.
It was the sect leader of Donglu's Sword League, Donglu's God of Blades, Nan Yehuo.
"This child's talent is monstrous. He is the genius among geniuses, unrivaled across the three thousand academies.
"Lu Ze, Luo Yang and Li Yuanzhen are nothing like him." Nan Yehuo's throaty voice croaked.
"Oh?" The third prince was surprised to hear the sect leader's appraisal of Li Yuanzhen.
"Only Jiang Linglong, Wei Sheng and Ximen Xianxian are in his league," Nan Yehuo continued speaking.
The third prince was taken aback, to say the least.
"For Ximen Xianxian's case, I know he's been gathering his energy. Although he didn't rank high in the honor roll, I'm sure he'll surprise everyone in the final section. Unfortunately, he's been recruited by the eldest prince.
"Wei Sheng is a descendent of the lost royal family from the Eight Dynasties and holds a bloodline ability.
"Lady Linglong is the only child of the Martial Arts King. She inherited his new blood, though unawaked, her potential is limitless
"On what basis is Fang Lang considered to be in the same tier as them?" the third prince questioned.
Donglu's God of Blades shook his head. His hoarse voice overpowered the rain. "Instincts, and the fact that he managed to retrieve the Blooming Lotus Sword."
In a light tone, the third prince replied, "This is not a joke."
"Your Highness, if he is your enemy, my advice is to kill him before he realizes his full potential. It is why I am here in person," Nan Yehuo said solemnly.
The world was dead silent.
Moments later, the third prince let out an airy laugh.
The words he spoke were cold as ice. "It's a shame he can't be killed by me. He is the top scorer in the theory and combat assessment, all eyes will be on him. If he dies at my hands, my father would be livid.
"That policy essay of his ruined a huge part of my plans. Let's have a discussion with him, if he submits, I'm open to negotiations."
Nan Yehuo was silent.
He thought of the Emperor's rage from deep within the palace.
The silence went on, then Nan Yehuo spoke, "If he can't be persuaded, destroy him?"
"Yes." The third prince let the silk blinds fall and lazily leaned back against the soft cushions.
If Fang Lang was stubborn, the third prince would do what was necessary, even if it meant angering his daunting father. He would willingly pay the price for his plans.
The rain had no intention of stopping.
The red-hooded Nan Yehuo lifted his hand. A sharp cry sounded from the dense forest. A wolf with demonic energy was trapped by an invisible forcefield—it howled at the sky.
Nan Yehuo's scrunched unibrow relaxed as he flung his arm to the side.
Like being launched by a catapult, the wolf sailed through the sky in a huge arc, landing on the neighboring mountain range occupied by a certain green-robed teen.
Nan Yehuo gently urged the horse into motion.
The carriage wheels began to spin, breaking the still ink wash painting.
…
Fang Lang leaned on both swords.
His energy center was filled with spiritual energy and the Sword Intent Seed worked to convert the spiritual energy into blade energy.
Out of a sudden, a wisp of blade energy formed within his core.
Whoosh!
The shackles of the fourth grade crumbled. The surrounding raindrops twisted as Fang Lang became a fifth-grade sword master.
The spiritual energy rewards continued to rush into his energy center, pushing at his energy boundary and filling up his newly acquired fifth-grade energy core. Although Fang Lang wanted to break through, the spiritual energy had to be converted into blade energy.
The last challenger had fallen. The Changan Academy student limped away from the battle ring, pale-faced and heavily injured.
Fang Lang lifted his head and stared into the autumn sky.
There was a writhing mass of darkness coming his way.
…
The horse carriage zapped past the mountains as winds and rain hammered on the outside. They were only 1,000 meters away from the green-robed teen.
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