Chapter 34 - Spear vs Sword

He didn't even look back.

Instead, he simply dusted his sleeve with a light flick, as though brushing away something insignificant.

The arena went quiet again.

Then the murmurs slowly returned, softer now. The laughter was gone. What replaced it was harder to explain, was it confusion or tension? It's a feeling that one would get when they know that something wasn't right.

"…He redirected it again."

"That's not just fast movement. He's guiding the attacks away…"

"No signs of cultivation at all… how is he doing that without using qi?"

"He's not just dodging. He's making Feng Zhan miss completely."

On the platform, Feng Zhan took a sharp breath, his posture tightening with a visible glare. His chest rose and fell faster now, the rhythm of someone already feeling the weight of frustration pressing in.

"Quit running," he barked, his voice cutting through the air. "Fight me properly!"

Lao Xie turned to face him once more, his expression unreadable as usual. "You want a proper fight?" he asked, his voice so soft it barely seemed like a challenge.

He didn't raise a weapon. He didn't even step forward. He only lifted his hand and pushed a loose strand of hair behind his ear, like he wasn't in a fight at all.

"I thought we were already fighting," he replied quietly, letting the words settle into the silence that followed.

Feng Zhan's hands tightened around the spear. His jaw clenched hard. "You…"

"I'm just wondering," Lao Xie cut in, voice calm as ever. " How long you're planning to keep wasting your strength like that. All that effort, and still not even close."

The words hit harder than any strike. Feng Zhan growled under his breath, the heat in his eyes rising as the crowd around them fell into a strange silence.

The cheers from earlier had slowly grown quieter by now, only to be replaced by a strange tension in the air.

Even at this moment, Lao Xie still hadn't moved. His hand was empty and his hanfu were clean. He didn't even look like someone in the middle of a fight.

Up in the stands, behind her veil, Ling Ruxin's gaze narrowed slightly.

"…He's not even trying to win yet," she said softly.

Elder Yao glanced her way. "You noticed it too?"

"He's not just defending," Ling Ruxin replied. "He's playing with him. It was as if he was testing him out."

Elder Yao let out a soft breath, lips curling in a faint smile. "I knew he'd gotten stronger... but this… this is something else."

Ling Ruxin didn't answer. Her eyes stayed on the figure in white at the center of the stage.

Back on the platform, Feng Zhan let out a harsh breath and lowered his stance. Then, without saying a word, he moved again, but this time with more focus.

He didn't go for big swings nor wild movements. His spear came in tighter and cleaner, it jabbed forward, fast and sharp, aiming for Lao Xie's vital points. This isn't just to overwhelm him but to give pressure, forcing him to move.

And finally, Lao Xie did.

No dramatic shift. No burst of power. His feet slid back, light and smooth, avoiding each jab by the smallest space. He moved just enough to let the spear miss him, like he knew exactly where it would land. The wind of each thrust brushed past him, but none of them managed to reached his body.

His hanfu moved with him, soft and weightless, but he never lost his balance.

Despite this, he still didn't fight back.

"Is he just going to keep dodging?" someone whispered.

"No… look closely. He's not just reacting. He already knows what's coming. Every move, he's reading it before it happens."

"How is that possible…?"

On the stage, the flow of the fight started to change.

Feng Zhan was starting to sweat now. A strange feeling was creeping into his thoughts, a pressure he didn't understand.

"Why can't I land a hit? Why is he so fast? Why-"

However, before the thought could finish, Lao Xie made a small stepped forward. Not too loud, not too sudden but it was a perfect moment for the tempo to be broken. Feng Zhan pulled back slightly, reacting out of habit, his body was expecting a strike.

But instead no strike came, Lao Xie's hand moved gently, brushing the side of the spear just as it neared him, redirecting it again like it meant nothing and he didn't stop there.

With that same motion, he moved forward again.

His steps weren't fast, but they were steady — smooth and natural, like he was walking through a garden instead of a battle. His eyes didn't even look sharp, just calm, relaxed, as if he already knew exactly how this would end.

Feng Zhan gritted his teeth and stepped in again, spear raised in a tighter stance, eyes focused, chest still rising with effort. He wasn't giving up, at least not yet.

Another thrust came, fast and sharp, aiming straight for Lao Xie's chest — but once again, it missed.

Lao Xie's body leaned just slightly, slipping past the strike like water around a stone. His hand moved in the same motion, brushing the spear aside once more, and this time, his fingers didn't fall away.

However, there was a faint flicker at his side, a quiet shimmer of light from his storage ring — not too loud, not too flashy, just a small ripple of movement that barely caught the eye.

In the next breath, a sword appeared in his grip. It was Enchanting Spectral Sword.

No one saw when he drew it, only that one moment his hand was empty, and the next, it held a sword of cold, silver-golden steel. The blade was slim, clean, without complicated markings or glow — but something about it felt sharp in a way that had nothing to do with edges.

Gasps rose from the crowd before fading into silence again.

"Huh? You had a weapon all along?" Feng Zhan shouted.

It's totally normal for him to be surprised since Lao Xie hadn't used a weapon at all until now.

However the sword didn't rise right away. Lao Xie held it loosely at his side, fingers relaxed, blade pointing toward the ground as if he had no intention of using it seriously.

Across from him, Feng Zhan narrowed his eyes and stepped forward again.

He tried to adjust to a faster footwork and tighter grip. Soon, one more strike launched, however it was a feint , followed by a sweep aiming low at Lao Xie's waist.

The move came clean and fast.

But for Lao Xie, it still wasn't fast enough.

Feng Zhan stepped in again, his spear darting low toward Lao Xie's waist — fast, tight, almost textbook clean. But just before the blade reached its mark, Lao Xie's sword moved.

It wasn't a grand swing or a flash of light. Just a soft motion, a shift of the wrist and a half-step turn, and the edge of the sword slipped against the incoming shaft.

Clang!

A clear sound rang out, brief but sharp, and the force of the spear was redirected to the side without breaking Lao Xie's stance in the slightest.

Feng Zhan gritted his teeth and followed with another strike — a thrust aimed at Lao Xie's shoulder, followed by a sweeping arc meant to close distance. But again, Lao Xie was already there, not dodging this time, but moving with the rhythm of the spear.

And this time their weapons finally met, the time for a counter-attack.