The instant Caleb’s blade was about to kiss Jared, Jared moved. He did not unsheathe Dragonslayer Sword. Instead, swayed his torso a fraction to the side.
It was like willow leaves caught in a spring breeze, slow only to the eye, yet somehow fast enough to let steel slip past harmlessly. At the same time, pressed his fore, and middle fingers together and flicked the surface of Caleb’s blade.
Ding! The note rang clear as crystal. A strange force hummed along the sword, numbing Caleb’s wrist. The weapon kicked upward, no longer his to command.
Panic cracked across Caleb’s face. He tried to pull back, but Jared was already there in a flash. His fingertips were haloed in pale gold, driving straight for Caleb’s sword hand.
That single touch erased every escape Caleb had rehearsed. Instinct screamed. He let go of the hilt and staggered backward, desperate for distance.
Jared allowed none. He slid in half a step, right foot gliding after the left. His whole body seemed to merge with Caleb’s shadow. Then his left hand came to rest, almost tenderly, on Caleb’s shoulder.
“Thank you for the lesson…” Jared’s voice was soft, almost courteous.
A gentle but irresistible force rolled through Caleb’s body. He lurched forward three steps, very nearly pitching off the platform before managed to steady himself. Only then did realize Dragonslayer Sword still slept in Its scabbard at Jared’s waist. Color drained from his cheeks at the thought.
He didn’t even draw his sword… And I already lost?
For a breathless beat, the arena fell utterly silent. No one believed what their own eyes had reported. Then, the stands erupted In thunderous roars.
“That movement technique was as fast as lightning!”
“What finger technique can bat away an Earthly Immortal Realm sword technique?”
“Jared, now that’s a swordsman!”
Lyra and the others leaped to their feet, shouting until their throats stung.
Flaxseed slapped his thigh and cackled. “Told you the kid knows a thing or two!”
Below the platform, Corin’s brows lifted in brief surprise that melted quickly into pride.
He had recognized Jared’s opening step as Traceless Move, a Sword Sect classic, but Jared’s rendition carried the effortless loft of Sky Walk itself.
That flick of the fingers had pushed Sword Intent Transformation to its very limit, the finger containing immeasurable sword energy.
High in the guest gallery, Jayson frowned, then muttered to the junior beside him, “Interesting… The kid’s movement technique and finger technique are decent. Pity his cultivation is still shallow…”
The junior nodded quickly. “Exactly. They’re nothing but parlor tricks. When faces your Sky Havoc Sword Art, his true level will show.”
Jayson’s laugh was a single cold breath. He said nothing more, eyes returning to the arena.
The matches that followed were predictable-stronger cultivators beat weaker ones, as the crowd expected, though a handful of duels still flashed bright enough to draw scattered roars from the stands.
Soon, it was Jayson’s turn. He stepped onto the elevated dueling platform, the hush of the crowd collapsing into a tension so thick it seemed to press against his skin.
His adversary, an Earthly Immortal Realm Level Three disciple from the Iron Sword Sect, raised a plain steel blade in greeting. Steel rang, sparks flashed, and in the very first clash, Jayson unleashed his Sky Havoc Sword Art.
Each sweeping arc of his longsword howled, shredding the air like ripping canvas. The phantom blades spun were heavy as falling meteors, and within their shadows, tiny pricks of lightning flickered, strobing across polished steel.
His opponent’s technique was all brute force. After only three exchanges, Jayson’s blade hammered aside the former’s weapon, sending it spinning. A heartbeat later, cold steel touched the disciple’s exposed throat.
“I yield!” his opponent shouted, his face a ghostly pale. With deliberate calm, Jayson withdrew the blade, then let his gaze roam over the sea of spectators before pinning it on Jared, a look that dripped with open provocation.
Jared answered with nothing more than a mild, indifferent stare, as if the challenge had slid off like rain from oiled cloth.
At the close of round one, only thirty-two contestants remained. Among them, Jared was the only one in the Wandering Immortal Realm.
The feat forced onlookers to recalibrate their opinion of him; luck could never carry someone weak this far. From that battle alone, Jared’s name was on every tongue in Swordmaster City.
