Chapter 632: Admitting Defeat

Zhou Chen looked down at the Broken Sword in his hand, staring at the mirror-smooth break and the trajectory of the fracture tracing up the blade. He suddenly remembered the day five years ago when he first received Jinghong from his father. He had been thirty years old then, having just advanced to Sub-Saint.

His father had told him the sword was named Jinghong, drawing its meaning from the phrase "as graceful as a startled swan, as supple as a soaring dragon." True to its name, the blade was as fast as lightning and as light as a feather.

"Thank you, Father," he had said at the time. "I will not fail this sword."

But now...

Zhou Chen looked up at Xu Wuyi.

The young man had already retracted his spear and stood in place without pursuing. The spear tip hung toward the ground, its dark gold patterns slowly fading. His face remained entirely expressionless. There was no joy of victory, nor any pity for the defeated.

There was only calmness.

Zhou Chen gripped his Broken Sword tightly. He wanted to say something, but his throat felt blocked. He wanted to fight again. He was the Prince of Great Liang. He could not lose, and he certainly could not admit defeat!

Right then, an aged voice echoed from the other side of the plain.

"Your Highness, that is enough."

Li Xuangang walked slowly out of the Great Liang formation, leaning on a cane. He walked very slowly, his back slightly hunched, as if the battle just now had drained all of his strength.

Zhou Chen turned around and said urgently, "State Preceptor, I can still fight—"

"That is enough," Li Xuangang interrupted.

Zhou Chen opened his mouth but ultimately said nothing. He lowered his head and unclenched his fists.

Li Xuangang walked up to him and glanced at the Broken Sword on the ground. He did not offer any blame or sighs. He merely patted Zhou Chen lightly on the shoulder.

"Your Highness, you did your best."

Zhou Chen remained silent. With his head bowed, his expression was unreadable.

Li Xuangang turned to Lin Jianyi and bowed deeply.

"In this battle, Great Liang admits defeat."

His voice was not loud, but it echoed clearly across the plain.

In the Great Liang formation, several accompanying officials looked unwilling to accept the outcome, but no one spoke up. Their skills were simply inferior. Admitting defeat was dignified; pestering on would be a disgrace.

Lin Jianyi gave a slight nod.

"The agreed-upon battle is over. According to our agreement, the development rights for Star Realm No. 0492 belong to the Federation."

He showed no pride and offered no mockery; he was merely stating a fact.

Li Xuangang straightened up with a complex expression. He looked at Lin Jianyi, then at Xu Wuyi. Finally, his gaze landed on the spear in Xu Wuyi’s hand. As if realizing something, Li Xuangang looked back at Lin Jianyi.

"Grandmaster Lin," he said without turning his head. "How many young Sub-Saints like this one does the Star Yuan Federation have?"

Lin Jianyi fell silent for a moment before a faint smile suddenly appeared on his face. He spoke his longest sentence of the day.

"This is the Star Yuan Federation’s greatest Genius in a century. In the future, you will continue to hear his name."

The wind over the plain began to flow once more. Twin suns still hung in the sky—one bright and one dusky—casting their unchanging light over the dark red earth. But everyone knew that this battle had come to an end.

In the Federation’s spectator area, several accompanying Quasi-Grandmasters breathed a collective sigh of relief.

Qin Qinghe withdrew the Sword Intent gathering at his fingertips, a smile appearing on his lips. He did not immediately step forward, choosing instead to stay where he was, watching the figure standing with his spear.

Twenty-three years old. It had only been three or four years since the military first took notice of Xu Wuyi to now, when he was representing the Federation in a battle against a foreign civilization.

Qin Qinghe still remembered the tone his teacher used when bringing up that name at the Jingshan Villa three years ago.

"A very interesting young man."

Back then, Qin Qinghe thought his teacher had been referring to Xu Wuyi’s potential. Now he understood. His teacher had been talking about the person himself. Not his potential, not his talent, but the kind of person he had already become.

"Grandmaster Qin."

A low call came from behind. It was an accompanying Quasi-Grandmaster from the military. His surname was Zhou, he hailed from the Eastern War Zone, and he was around the same age as Qin Qinghe.

Quasi-Grandmaster Zhou wore an expression of obvious excitement as he lowered his voice. "Martial Artist Xu won this battle far too beautifully. That Prince of Great Liang couldn’t even put together a single effective offensive from start to finish."

Qin Qinghe nodded but did not elaborate.

Quasi-Grandmaster Zhou was still sighing with emotion. "Twenty-three years old... When I was twenty-three, I was still struggling at the initial Martial Artist stage, not even touching the edge of the next Martial Artist rank."

Another accompanying personnel chimed in, "Let alone twenty-three; I wasn’t even at this level when I was thirty-three."

The few of them conversed in low voices, their words filled with admiration. Qin Qinghe listened without joining in. He noticed that from the end of the battle until now, Xu Wuyi had not looked back once.

The young man stood with his back to the Federation crowd, facing the other side of the plain. His spear was retracted, its tip pointing diagonally at the ground. His posture was relaxed and natural.

He was not waiting for anything. Nor was he thinking about anything. He was just standing there.

Qin Qinghe suddenly realized that Xu Wuyi’s current state was no different from when the battle began. His heartbeat, breathing, muscle tension, and even fluctuations in his Spirit were exactly the same as before the fight started.

To him, this battle had truly just been... a matter of a single spear thrust.

"Grandmaster Qin," Quasi-Grandmaster Zhou spoke up again. "Should we head over?"

Qin Qinghe snapped out of his daze and nodded. "Let’s go."

The Federation group walked toward the center of the plain. Their footsteps trod on the dark red grass, emitting a faint RUSTLE.

Hearing the noise, Xu Wuyi turned around. Qin Qinghe approached and stopped three steps in front of him.

"Congratulations," Qin Qinghe said.

There was no lengthy praise, just a single, simple word.

Xu Wuyi nodded. "Thank you, Senior Brother Qin."

There was no deflection, no false modesty, and no sign of smugness. He merely accepted it.

Qin Qinghe felt a slight stir in his heart. He had seen this kind of reaction before. He had seen it in his teacher, Shen Jin. He had seen it in Grandmaster Lin Jianyi. He had seen it in those supreme experts who truly stood at the pinnacle of Martial Arts.

It was not arrogance, nor was it apathy. It was natural, like breathing, like walking, like picking up chopsticks to eat.

Winning was just winning. There was no need for celebration, nor any need for modesty, because this was something entirely within expectations.

Quasi-Grandmaster Zhou stepped forward at this moment, a smile on his face. "Martial Artist Xu, this battle was truly an eye-opener. That Prince of Great Liang is already considered a top-tier Genius in Great Liang, yet he had absolutely no power to fight back against you."

Xu Wuyi looked at him and shook his head slightly. "The flaw was in his sword, not in himself."

Quasi-Grandmaster Zhou was taken aback. "A flaw in the sword?"

"His sword," Xu Wuyi explained. "There was hidden damage on the spine of the blade, and it wasn’t caused today. It might be a defect left over from when the sword was forged, or it could be unhealed damage from a previous battle.

"When my spear struck down, there were already cracks inside the blade."

Quasi-Grandmaster Zhou fell silent for a few seconds.

He suddenly remembered a detail from watching the battle just now: after Zhou Chen’s sword was cleaved in two, the young man had not pursued, nor had he even spared the Broken Sword another glance.

It was not disdain. It was because he had known all along, having anticipated it from the very beginning.