Chapter 215 - 124: Embracing Pill Defeats Gang Force, the Crowd Goes Wild

After several "arrangements," Zhang Su had indeed won his matches smoothly.

But after a few rounds, they realized there were no easy opponents left among the remaining Martial Artists.

They were all Peak Gang Force Martial Artists who had achieved the Unity of Inner and Outer.

No matter who Zhang Su drew, he probably couldn’t win.

This was a situation they hadn’t anticipated.

Meng Shouzhen’s mouth twitched. After a moment of silence, he shook his head and said slowly, "No matter. If he can’t complete the second assessment of the Celestial Pride Trial this time, we’ll just wait until the Three Sects Gathering of Heroes is over. We’ll arrange another great battle between Zhang Su and a Gang Force Martial Artist then. We can invite the Ten Great Martial Veins, and even the entire Sect, to witness it."

Tang Tianwen fell silent.

He glanced at Zhang Su on the arena stage, then at Meng Shouzhen, and sighed to himself.

’So, even the Sect Leader didn’t see this coming.’

’Still, when I think back on the "arrangements," with so many Danjin Martial Artists available, it was only natural to line them all up for Zhang Su.’

’How could they not give one of their own disciples a leg up?’

’It’s only human nature, and it’s standard practice for the hosts every year.’

’I just hope Zhang Su doesn’t lose this fight too badly...’

Tang Tianwen shook his head to himself.

’In hindsight, it would have been better to arrange a match for Zhang Su against an ordinary Gang Force Martial Artist from the Jianghu.’

’Someone who had just reached Outer Gang, for example, and hadn’t yet achieved the Unity of Inner and Outer.’

’Then, someone in Embracing Pill defeating a Gang Force master—what a great headline that would have made.’

’What a pity...’

’Now there was no chance for that.’

In the stands, Zhao Qianfeng and Wang Dakui were on edge.

Zhao Qianfeng sat in the Elders’ section, his eyes fixed on the arena, his expression grave.

Wang Dakui, burly and rugged-faced, sat beside him, his expression just as tense.

He clapped Zhao Qianfeng on the shoulder but said nothing.

This fight was about more than just a simple win or loss.

It would determine whether Zhang Su could become a Celestial Pride of the Inner Sect.

If he lost... Zhao Qianfeng didn’t dare to think about the consequences.

Zhou Peng, Xie Guanchao, Mo Tingzhu, even Han Guiyi, and a crowd of other Guiyuan Sect disciples were equally tense.

Zhou Peng stood in the front row of the stands, arms crossed, his brow tightly furrowed.

Xie Guanchao stood beside him, a sour look on his face. His lips moved as if to say something, but he swallowed the words back down.

Mo Tingzhu stood a little farther off, with Bai Xuan at his side.

Bai Xuan’s eyes were wide, fixed on the arena without blinking.

Han Guiyi stood at the forefront of the Guiyuan Sect disciples, a long saber hanging from his waist. His expression was cold, his gaze steady and calm.

He didn’t speak, just watched the arena in silence.

Their thoughts were much simpler.

As fellow disciples of the Guiyuan Sect, or as friends of Zhang Su.

They just wanted Zhang Su to win!

They didn’t care who his opponent was or how strong he was.

On the arena stage, Zhang Su and Chu Hanjiang took their positions.

Both were swordsmen.

Chu Hanjiang’s sword hung at his waist. Its scabbard was dark brown, marked with several fine scratches.

Zhang Su’s Shadow-Stealing Sword was worn on his left side. Its scabbard was black, and the hilt was wrapped in crimson silk that glinted dully in the sunlight.

A breeze swept across the Martial Arts Arena, rustling their robes with a faint flapping sound.

Chu Hanjiang’s gaze was solemn.

He stood on one side of the stage, his body leaning slightly forward, his right hand hanging naturally with his fingertips less than three inches from his sword’s hilt.

He had never once underestimated Zhang Su.

Although he was at the Peak of Gang Force and Zhang Su was merely in the Embracing Pill stage, Zhang Su’s track record spoke for itself.

Slaying an Embracing Pill master while only at the Huajin stage—though it was just a rumor, he believed it!

Such a person was worthy of his all-out effort.

"I’ve fought my way through countless Gang Force masters to get here, and I’ve already given it my all. But I still want to take one more step forward!"

Chu Hanjiang said calmly.

His voice wasn’t loud, but on the silent stage, every word was crystal clear.

His eyes were locked on Zhang Su, showing no disdain, only a pure, unadulterated desire.

He was filled with an intense longing.

For him, the Jianghu no longer held much of a challenge.

He had struggled through the Jianghu for over twenty years, rising from an unknown grunt and cultivating step by step to the Peak of Gang Force.

He had survived countless life-and-death battles and defeated innumerable opponents.

But now, he could go no further. The Peak of Gang Force seemed glorious, but in truth, it was his limit.

He wanted to advance to the Postnatal Realm, but it was almost impossible through bitter cultivation alone.

He had no Sect resources, no guidance from masters; he could only rely on himself to feel his way forward.

The gulf between Gang Force and the Postnatal Realm was immense; countless Peak Gang Force Martial Artists spent their entire lives unable to cross it.

If he could win the reward, or make a name for himself at the Three Sects Gathering of Heroes, he might gain all sorts of unexpected benefits.

That was his true purpose.

A precious Elixir, or catching the eye of an Elder from a Major Sect—either could be the opportunity he needed to break through.

"Defeat me, and you can take that next step."

Zhang Su said calmly.

"Chu Hanjiang, a wanderer of the Jianghu."

"Zhang Su of the Guiyuan Sect."

The two had announced their names and affiliations.

This was a custom of the Jianghu, a sign of respect for one’s opponent.

The moment their voices faded, the atmosphere on the stage changed in an instant.

SWOOSH.

In the next instant, Chu Hanjiang moved.

His figure shot forward like a gray shadow.

At the same time, his sword left its sheath.

The sound of the sword being drawn was soft, as faint as spring rain on a lake, almost inaudible.

But the power of that strike was anything but soft.

His sword thrust out in an instant, its gleam hazy, like a fine drizzle, like the silken threads of a spring shower—fine, dense, and unending.

The sword light wasn’t blinding; instead, it possessed a hazy, dreamlike beauty.