"Thank you," Ye Chen said with a calm smile toward Hu Liena.
He then turned without hesitation and leapt down from the massive stone statue, landing lightly in front of the crowd of over a thousand challengers.
This battle was inevitable.
So why not make it a glorious one?
Ye Chen faced the surging crowd of cursing challengers, eyes sharp. He raised his voice and said coldly,
> "I don't like wasting time. Anyone under level 50—step forward."
As soon as the words fell, the Seven-Star Demon Abyss Sword appeared in his palm and began to hover around him in slow, graceful arcs. Its motion was oddly fluid, as though the blade itself had a will.
The crowd stirred instantly. A few arrogant students stepped forward, eager to prove themselves.
"So you finally dare to accept a challenge?" one sneered. "I'll be your first opponent!"
"Get lost! The Saintess is mine. I'll take this guy out!" another shouted.
Several guys around level 45 began arguing over who would fight Ye Chen first. But before any of them could make a move, a crimson flash sliced through the air.
Whoosh! Whoosh!
The sharp sound of blades cutting wind echoed. In the blink of an eye, the arguing challengers clutched their bleeding necks, eyes wide in shock as they collapsed to the ground, lifeless.
The square fell deathly silent. Then chaos erupted.
"You ambushed them! How can you just start attacking without even naming a challenger?!"
"Shameless bastard! Haven't you learned the etiquette of a fair duel?"
"I've never seen someone as despicable as you!"
The crowd hurled insults in waves, disgusted by Ye Chen's method. But he didn't flinch—he just scratched his ear lazily and muttered one word:
> "Trash."
The voice wasn't loud, but loud enough for a bald man with 49 soul power to catch it.
"You talking about me, punk?" he barked, pointing at Ye Chen.
Ye Chen shook his head and smirked.
> "No, don't get me wrong. I wasn't just talking about you."
He paused. Then, with a slow grin:
> "I said—all of you here are trash."
That one sentence lit the powder keg.
"You cocky little—!"
Before the bald man could finish, Ye Chen spoke again, his voice echoing:
> "I clearly said anyone below level 50 can come at me. Was that hard to understand? Or are you all too dumb to get it?"
He stood calm, the corner of his mouth curled into an arrogant smile, eyes full of disdain.
"You're dead, brat!" the bald man roared, activating his martial spirit. "Brothers, let's take this guy down first. The Saintess can wait—kill him!"
The crowd erupted, thousands surging forward with bloodlust in their eyes. Weapons and martial spirits lit the air in dazzling displays of soul power.
A few talented students—above level 50—stood aside, frowning at the madness.
"Is he insane?" a long-haired man at level 53 asked. "He's just a 41-level Soul Sect. Does he have a death wish?"
"Just blowing smoke to look brave before dying," another sneered. "Still, why would the High Priest pair the Saintess with him? Disgusting."
Others around them nodded, but none moved to stop the chaos. Let the riffraff weaken each other—less cleanup later.
From atop the statue, Hu Liena's eyes widened in panic. Her beautiful face flickered with indecision, and just as she moved to jump down—
A slender figure appeared beside her, a gentle but firm hand resting on her shoulder.
"Let him handle it," the woman whispered.
Meanwhile, down below—
"Kill him!"
Roars shook the courtyard as weapons clashed, lights exploded, and soul power surged like a tsunami. The air shimmered with colorful energy waves.
And yet, in the heart of the storm, Ye Chen stood still.
Calm.
Focused.
The Demon Abyss Sword began spinning faster around him, leaving trails of glowing red arcs.
> "Good," Ye Chen said with a smirk. "Since everyone's ready—let's begin."
His voice was calm, almost amused.
> "Fourth Soul Skill—Illusory Fox Eyes!"
Golden light burst from his pupils, radiating outward like a storm of stars. The crowd charging toward him froze mid-step, their expressions slackening.
In an instant, hundreds were caught in a dreamlike illusion.
The battlefield transformed. In place of chaos, every opponent found themselves surrounded by beautiful women—flirty, shy, seductive, dominant. Some sweetly whispered in their ears, others reached out with tempting hands.
Laughter filled the air—strange, eerie laughter. Many challengers were giggling, hugging thin air, or even passionately kissing their confused friends.
The scene was bizarre. And Ye Chen… was sweating.
Holding such a massive illusion required both immense spiritual strength and soul power. After less than a minute, he had already burned through a third of his energy.
> "Can't keep this up for long. Gotta end this fast."
With a sharp whistle, the Demon Abyss Sword shot forward like a crimson comet, weaving through the air.
It danced like a reaper, slashing through flesh and spirit alike, trailing red arcs like a deadly ribbon.
One by one, his enemies fell.
—