"I still can't believe Xiao Fan actually won the whole thing," Zhang Feng said, shaking his head as he replayed the earlier match in his mind. "That fight really showed what the power of youth looks like."

  "He was the biggest dark horse," Wei Zhusang replied calmly.

  "Biggest? Please. That match was insane," Zhang Feng continued, growing animated. "He fought Qiu Han, Jin Su, Zhou Sheng, and Xiao Hong, four high-grade spiritual root possessors, and beat every single one of them."

  Wei's eyes narrowed slightly. "There's still another dark horse."

  "You mean Ning?" Lang Rulang asked, her tone as cool and composed as ever. "That would make sense. You two are the only ones left with a 1–0 record."

  Wei nodded once.

  "Besides," Zhang Feng added with a grin, "the people outside are clearly favoring Ning. You lost to Jin Su, but he beat her. From an outsider's perspective… your odds don't look great."

  Wei shot him a look.

  Thankfully, Wei knew Zhang Feng well enough to understand there was no malice in the comment. Zhang Feng simply said whatever came to mind.

  "That loss was due to poison," Wei said evenly. "I've already prepared countermeasures."

  "Sure," Zhang Feng shrugged, "but that doesn't change the fact that Ning still beat her."

  Wei sighed.

  "Would it kill you to be serious for once?" he muttered. Then his gaze sharpened slightly. "More importantly, why do you sound like you're rooting for Ning? I've known you for ten years."

  Zhang Feng raised both hands in surrender.

  "You're both my best friends. How could I choose one over the other?" he said dramatically. Then he grinned. "But recently, you haven't been sparring with me. Ning has. So naturally, I'm gonna root for Ning."

  Wei stared at him.

  "That's your logic?"

  "Of course," Zhang Feng replied shamelessly.

  Lang Rulang let out a quiet scoff.

  "Pathetic."

  Zhang Feng ignored her.

  "So," he said, leaning forward slightly, eyes sparkling, "are you confident… or should I start preparing to congratulate Ning instead?"

  Wei's expression remained steady.

  "Prepare whatever you want," Wei said calmly. "I'll be the one standing at the end."

  Zhang Feng's grin widened.

  "Good. That's the Wei Zhusang I know."

  Lang Rulang said nothing, but she gave a small nod in agreement.

  "Anyway, we were talking about Ning," Zhang Feng said, shifting the topic.

  Wei continued thoughtfully, "There's also his cultivation. I'm still surprised he broke through to the Sixth Stage so quickly. Among us, I was the only one who reached that stage just before the competition began."

  Originally, Wei had assumed that only the top-ranked disciples would be on equal footing with him in terms of cultivation.

  Zhang Feng suddenly grinned. "I know how he advanced so fast."

  This time, even Lang Rulang glanced at him with interest. After all, she had personally fought Ning, and he was only at the fifth stage then.

  "Ning managed to obtain a fully intact Dragon Qi Grass a few years ago," Zhang Feng said. "Complete with the original soil it grew in. So, he was able to grow quite a few of them."

  "I see." Wei and Lang nodded in understanding.

  Dragon Qi Grass was one of the more famous first-grade spiritual plants, especially useful in the early and middle stages of Qi Condensation. It was known to accelerate cultivation without damaging one's foundation.

  But it had peculiar growth requirements. Not only were its seeds rare, it also required soil taken from where a previous Dragon Qi Grass had grown. Among spiritual plants, this condition was unusually strict. Coupled with the high level of skill required to cultivate it artificially, the plant was extremely rare.

  "He was lucky," Zhang Feng continued. "I only know about it because he complained to me. Some people tried to buy it from him afterward and kept pestering him."

  Ning had always been careful to establish a clear cause and effect behind his cultivation progress. He didn't want others to suspect hidden treasures or mysterious inheritances. Unlike Xiao Fan, who flaunted abnormal growth without consequence, he moved cautiously.

  "Is that so?" Wei hadn't heard this before.

  Lang Rulang glanced at him as well.

  Zhang Feng shrugged. "He refused them. Said he used the token Elder Shen gave him to fend them off."

  "Elder Shen? The one who guards the Scripture Pavilion?" Wei's expression shifted slightly. He knew more than most. Elder Shen was quite a figure at the Foundation Building stage.

  "Yeah. Ning helped manage the pavilion once; that's how they got acquainted," Zhang Feng said. "They seem pretty close. Elder Shen even permitted him to open a stall during this competition. I really envy his networking skills."

  "That is impressive," Wei admitted.

  Lang Rulang finally spoke again.

  "What's frightening isn't just his cultivation."

  Wei turned to her.

  "It's his preparation," she said quietly. "When I fought him, it felt like he had already anticipated several of my techniques."

  There was no exaggeration in her tone.

  "If Xiao Fan adapts mid-fight," she continued, "Ji Ning builds his advantage before the fight even begins."

  Wei nodded slowly.

  Xiao Fan was volatile. Unpredictable. The type who became stronger under pressure.

  Ning was different.

  He layered advantages quietly. His spell combination and field domination were deadly.

  Even that absurd "Magical Spear" had been psychological warfare.

  Wei exhaled softly.

  "That makes him troublesome," he said. "He doesn't rely on sudden inspiration. He relies on preparation."

  Zhang Feng snorted. "You're the same type."

  Wei ignored him.

  "He's versatile," Wei continued, analyzing like a battlefield tactician. "Long-range suppression with archery. Area denial with mist and rain. Terrain alteration. Body tempering. Close combat fundamentals. Quick casting."

  "And traps," Lang Rulang added.

  Wei nodded. "Yes. Traps."

  Ning did not overwhelm his opponents. He created small imbalances and exploited them ruthlessly.

  That kind of opponent drained both body and mind.

  "But," Wei said calmly, "He has a flaw."

  ...

  Ning sat cross-legged in his room, a palm-sized shard of pale-blue crystal resting in his hand.

  Cold mist curled faintly from its surface. A five-year-old azure flowing ice essence.

  He exhaled slowly and placed it into his mouth.

  The moment it dissolved, a biting chill spread down his throat and into his meridians. Frosty qi surged through his channels, as his breath turned faintly white.

  The cold tried to settle into his bones, but Ning guided it carefully, circulating it through his core before allowing it to disperse evenly throughout his body.

  A thin layer of frost formed briefly along his knuckles.

  He clenched his fist.

  The frost shattered and fell away like powder.

  His eyes opened.

  "Now, I have reached the peak of my current strength." Ning was ready for his final match.

  ...

  When Ning stepped outside, his spear resting lightly over his shoulder, he was stopped just before reaching the arena entrance.

  "Ji Ning."

  He turned.

  Qiao Mei stood a few steps away, her hands clasped tightly in front of her. She was part of their mutual aid association, a gentle girl who usually avoided confrontation.

  Today, however, she looked unusually tense.

  "Yes?" Ning asked calmly.

  She hesitated, then gathered her courage.

  "About today's match… is it possible for you to surrender?"

  Ning blinked.

  "Surrender?"

  Qiao Mei nodded quickly. "Senior Brother Wei… even though he's the heir of the Wei family, he still needs a strong record. The higher he ranks, the more resources he'll receive during the clan's allocation. This match is very important to him."

  Her fingers tightened.

  "If you give up, I'm sure he'll compensate you properly. I'll personally make sure of it."

  Ning studied her expression carefully.

  "Is this Wei Zhusang's idea?" he asked.

  In truth, Ning wasn't ignorant of the kind of shady dealings that had taken place in past outer sect competitions. But this year's format made such arrangements far riskier and far less common.

  Qiao Mei immediately shook her head.

  "No! He would never ask for something like that."

  Ning scrutinized her quietly.

  Qiao Mei lowered her voice.

  "You once received help from him. The loan… when you needed cultivation resources. You haven't forgotten, right? Even though you repaid it in full, that was still a favor. Think of this as… returning it."

  Ning's expression softened slightly, but his thoughts grew sharper.

  He wasn't entirely certain whether this idea had truly come from Wei Zhusang. Not that he wanted to suspect him, but Wei was pragmatic, not unlike himself. It wouldn't have been impossible.

  Then again, this could simply be a young girl acting out of infatuation.

  Regardless, Ning had come too far. He was only one step away from securing a top-three position and the rewards that came with it. He had no intention of backing down, especially when it wasn't even clear whether this request truly reflected Wei Zhusang's wishes.

  But now it was time to pacify this girl first. Ning adjusted his grip on the spear and let out a small sigh.

  "Qiao Mei," he said gently, lowering his voice, "if I surrender now, do you think Wei Zhusang would be satisfied?"

  She froze.

  "He's worked hard to stand here," Ning continued evenly. "Do you really think he wants a hollow victory?"

  She opened her mouth, but no words came out.

  "Moreover, you know match-fixing is punishable. If I made even a small mistake in my acting, both of us would end up in the Disciplinary Hall."

  He stepped slightly closer, his tone calm but firm.

  "If you truly care about him, then trust him."

  Silence lingered between them.

  Qiao Mei's expression wavered, her earlier urgency fading into conflicted understanding.

  "…I didn't think of it that way."

  Ning gave her a faint smile.

  "It's fine. Emotions make people act irrationally sometimes."

  She lowered her head, embarrassed.

  "I'm sorry."

  "There's no need."

  After a brief pause, she stepped aside.

  "Then… good luck."

  Ning nodded and walked past her toward the arena.

  ...

  "Next fight, Wei Zhusang versus Ji Ning."

  The two stepped onto the stage.

  After the main clash between Qiu Han and Xiao Fan, much of the crowd had dispersed. It felt as though the true highlight of the competition had already passed, which, to be fair, wasn't far from the truth.

  That was why Ning was surprised when he heard cheers.

  "Ning, you've got this! Win it!"

  "Show them the power of a spiritual farmer!"

  "Huh?" Ning blinked, genuinely startled.

  "You seem surprised," Wei Zhusang remarked.

  "Yes," Ning admitted with a nod. Despite his strong record, he had rarely been in the spotlight, no matter how small that spotlight might be.

  "It's because you're a commoner," Wei Zhusang explained calmly. "And you use techniques that most people can learn, mundane spells anyone can acquire. Especially the spiritual farmers. They're considered to have weak combat ability. By standing here, you've given them face."

  Wei Zhusang looked faintly amused at the rare hint of awkwardness on Ning's face.

  "I never thought of it that way," Ning sighed.

  Was the Make Spiritual Farmer Great Again agenda at it again?

  "Yes," Wei Zhusang continued. "But their cheers won't change the outcome. I will win."

  "Okay."

  Ning noticed that Wei hadn't mentioned Qiao Wen at all. Either he had been overthinking the girl's infatuation, or Wei Zhusang already knew that Ning would never agree.

  Either way, there was nothing more to consider.

  All he could do now was fight his best.

  The elder raised his hand.

  "Begin."

  Ning moved first.

  His fingers formed a seal without hesitation.

  [Hidden Ice Mist Technique]

  Cold qi burst outward in a rolling wave. Frost vapor spread rapidly across the arena floor, swallowing stone and footprints alike. In this competition, the technique had already become synonymous with his name. The moment white fog surged outward, the crowd stirred.

  Ning had taken control of the battlefield.

  Wei Zhusang moved at the same time.

  He tightened his grip on the heavy war hammer, shoulders lowered, posture aggressive like a charging beast. The weapon dragged slightly across the frost-slick stone, sparks flickering as qi poured into its jade-inlaid core.

  Then he charged straight into the mist.

  Ning's bow bent in a smooth arc.

  Three arrows flew in a single breath.

  One straight.

  One angled.

  One curving subtly at the end.

  All of them were coated with poison.

  Within the mist, Wei Zhusang's eyes narrowed.

  As expected. Ning could pinpoint his position even inside the fog.

  He did not slow.

  Qi flowed into the disc-shaped shield mounted along his forearm, a low-grade artifact he had forged himself. The disc spun to life with a low metallic hum, earthen light rippling across its surface.

  The first arrow struck.

  Clang!

  Deflected cleanly.

  The second came from an oblique angle. The rotating disc shifted automatically, intercepting it mid-spin.

  The third arrow curved sharply and slipped past the outer rim.

  But suddenly, the armor Wei Zhusang wore came to life, blocking the attack.

  Despite the incoming volley of attacks, Wei Zhusang never stopped advancing.

  Ning shifted positions continuously within the mist, Shadow Steps light and fluid over frost. Arrows flew in rapid succession, straight shots, poisoned tips, false trajectories.

  The disc shield rotated smoothly, intercepting most of them. Occasionally, a glancing strike struck the armor beneath Wei's robes, dulling against reinforced plates. His boots absorbed angled shots aimed low.

  Prepared.

  He had studied Ning.

  He knew the arrow patterns. Taking this opportunity, he closed the distance ruthlessly.

  The hammer's head dragged through frost, gathering momentum with every step. Qi condensed along its surface, heavy and oppressive.

  Ning saw it clearly.

  If that hammer entered effective range, one Earth-grade strike would end the match.

  He changed the rhythm.

  Widespread attacks and feints were useless. He needs to pull out the big gun.

  One arrow.

  Ning inhaled.

  Qi condensed along the shaft, spiraling around the arrowhead in tightly controlled layers.

  [Spiral Arrow]

  The arrow shot forward, its rotation compressing its own airflow as it cut through the mist.

  Wei Zhusang's eyes sharpened.

  He angled the disc at the final instant, but this arrow was different from the rest.

  The rotational force condensed at its tip behaved like a drill, compressing impact into a single piercing point.

  Reading on this site? This novel is published elsewhere. Support the author by seeking out the original.

  Crack.

  The arrowhead slipped through a narrow seam near his shoulder, sliding between overlapping armor plates and embedding into flesh.

  Wei staggered half a step.

  The disc shield wobbled for the briefest moment.

  Poison entered.

  Ning did not hesitate. His eyes glowed slightly, pure eyes finding the faintest of gaps.

  Two more arrows followed instantly.

  One shattered against the disc.

  The other struck lower, grazing a gap in armor near the waist.

  The poison spread.

  Wei Zhusang exhaled sharply. His hammer lowered, and his knees bent slightly as faint veins started to form on his exposed skin.

  Within the mist, his silhouette appeared unstable.

  The crowd murmured.

  "He got through!"

  "That poison brought down Jin Su's spirit beast; this battle is over!"

  Within the fog, Wei's posture faltered further.

  Attacking a fallen foe was frowned upon. Especially one already poisoned.

  So, many believed the battle was finished

  Just then, when everyone least expected, qi surged.

  Wei Zhusang's boots ignited with light, inscriptions flaring along the soles. In a single explosive burst, he covered the remaining distance.

  The hammer rose in a smooth, decisive arc.

  "Mountain-Quelling Hammer Art."

  Earth-attribute qi condensed beneath his feet, anchoring him like a rooted mountain.

  "Heaven-Sinking Strike."

  He burst through the mist, striking directly at the faint shadow where Ning had paused moments earlier.

  The hammer descended as the air compressed violently in its wake.

  But Ning had anticipated it. The reason why he didn't attack before was that he was preparing in case of deception.

  [Fireball]

  A condensed sphere of crimson flame shot forward at point-blank range at the descending hammer.

  Hammer met flame mid-swing.

  BOOOOM!

  The Heaven-Sinking force crushed downward as the Fireball detonated outward. Compression and heat collided in violent opposition.

  The mist was obliterated instantly as steam and debris blasted across the arena.

  When the shockwave cleared, the white fog was gone.

  In its place, a cracked arena floor could be seen.

  Wei Zhusang stood at the center of a shallow crater, hammer embedded in fractured stone. The veins that had bulged earlier now looked steadier, the "poisoned" pallor fading rapidly.

  Across from him, Ning had been forced backward several meters, sliding before planting his spear to halt his retreat.

  "I predicted that you would use poison in your attacks," Wei Zhusang couldn't help but speak. "That's why I let it hit me, to lower your guard. But it seems you predicted my prediction and weren't convinced by my acting."

  "Well, I know you're a cautious man," Ning replied calmly. "How could you not prepare for my poison?"

  Ning knew that the moment he used poison, all of his opponents would prepare countermeasures. So, he never let his guard down.

  What surprised Ning was that his Pure Eyes caught the faint discoloration beneath Wei's skin, rapidly fading.

  Since pills were forbidden in the competition, and although Wei Zhusang, as a weapon refiner, was allowed to bring five weapons, he clearly hadn't used any external aid to counter it.

  That meant he had endured the poison with his body alone.

  Ning immediately arrived at the answer.

  "Hundred Treasures Body?"

  Wei gave a faint nod. "As expected, you think quickly. I purchased Jade Pure Radiant Essence and ingested it to build resistance."

  The Hundred Treasures Body was a body-refining method that converted consumed spiritual materials into corresponding resistances and enhancements. It was powerful, but costly. As the name implied, one needed to ingest at least a hundred spiritual materials to cultivate it to completion.

  "Jade Pure Radiant Essence… if I remember correctly, it costs around a thousand spirit stones." Ning was momentarily speechless.

  And he became even more so when his gaze shifted to Wei Zhusang's equipment.

  Aside from the disc-shaped defensive artifact, there was reinforced armor, qi-enhancing boots, and the heavy hammer inlaid with jade.

  All competitors were allowed one main weapon and one low-grade auxiliary weapon. Those with secondary professions, like weapon refiners, were permitted three additional self-crafted items.

  Most weapon refiners barely managed to produce two low-grade weapons of average quality.

  What Wei Zhusang carried was clearly superior.

  Especially that disc-shaped defensive artifact, though technically low-grade, it was undoubtedly among the finest of its tier.

  Wei injected qi into his boots again. The inscriptions along the soles flared bright brown. His speed surged in a short, brutal burst, covering the area in an instant.

  He lifted the hammer high as the qi converged in it.

  He was done testing.

  He was going to crush Ning once and for all.

  "Mountain-Quelling Hammer Art."

  Wei Zhusang's voice was steady, but the arena itself seemed to tremble as the hammer rose above his head.

  Qi poured into the jade core embedded within the hammerhead, flooding it until the green stone glowed with deep earthen light. That light thickened the air, compressing it layer by layer.

  Ning did not attempt to receive it.

  Shadow Steps flickered.

  His figure blurred sideways just as the hammer descended.

  BOOM!

  The platform cratered violently. Stone burst outward in jagged fragments, shards screaming through the air. Even without a direct hit, the descending force carried crushing pressure. It struck Ning like a charging beast, flinging him backward across fractured ground.

  He landed hard, boots skidding, breath driven from his lungs.

  Wei did not pause.

  The hammer rose again and swept horizontally.

  The air screamed as the arc cut through it. A visible pressure wave split loose stone before the metal even passed through.

  Ning barely ducked beneath it. The shockwave still clipped him, sending him tumbling across the ruined platform.

  Wei advanced step by step. He was relentless.

  "You cannot meet me directly," Wei said evenly. This was the flaw he had noticed.

  "I know," Ning replied hoarsely, pushing himself upright.

  There was no delusion in his eyes.

  Against pure, unfiltered power, he would lose instantly.

  Wei stamped his foot. Qi flowed downward like roots seeking soil.

  "Wood Binding Art."

  The cracked stone beneath Ning split apart. Thick wooden vines erupted upward, twisting violently around his legs and waist.

  Unlike Qiu Han's casting speed born from his supernatural ability, Wei Zhusang's was from his attainments.

  Ning's pupils contracted. This was not in the intelligence reports.

  The vines constricted immediately, creaking as they tightened.

  The crowd gasped.

  Wei raised the hammer.

  Finisher.

  Ning reacted at once.

  [Scorching Purge]

  A thin lance of crimson flame sliced downward. The wood blackened, cracked, and snapped under sudden combustion.

  At the same time, he unleashed another technique.

  [Soil Refining Technique]

  The ground beneath Ning softened just enough. His footing dipped, his body twisted free from the remaining grip.

  He rolled aside.

  The hammer fell where he had stood.

  BOOOOM!

  The crater deepened again. Stone fragments shot outward like a storm of blades.

  Wei had already pivoted.

  Another rush followed, the timing even more clutch.

  Qi flooded into the inscriptions carved along his boots. Inscriptions flared bright brown as his speed surged in a brutal burst, closing the distance in an instant.

  Ning attempted Shadow Steps, but the battlefield was no longer clean. Repeated Heaven-Sinking strikes had shattered the platform into jagged ridges and broken stone. Each step required adjustment.

  The hammer descended again.

  Ning raised his spear.

  Fourfold Stability.

  The clash lasted less than a breath.

  Compression crushed through the spear guard. The shaft vibrated violently, force tearing through Ning's arms and into his bones. He was blasted backward once more, vision flashing white as blood rose in his throat.

  If this continues, he will lose.

  Wei saw it as clearly as Ning did, so he pressed forward.

  "You are good," Wei said calmly, advancing. "Very good. But you lack the raw power granted by an Earth-grade technique."

  With his free hand, he reached into his robe.

  A chain slid free. Dark metal links etched with shallow binding inscriptions.

  Wei swung it once.

  The chain shot forward low along the ground, skimming over fractured stone with surgical precision.

  The moment it struck near Ning's feet, the inscriptions flared in sequence.

  The links stiffened mid-motion. They followed the predicted trajectory, tightening toward his ankle.

  But if there was one domain where Ning reigned, it was perception.

  Spatial sense and Pure Eyes flared.

  The world slowed.

  Qi lines along the chain became visible, flow patterns weaving through each metal link. Binding inscriptions ignited one after another in rhythm.

  Its tightening arc was not centered on Ning's current footing. It was aimed at where Wei believed he would step next.

  Ning saw the convergence point clearly, a half-step backward, slightly to the right.

  So he did not retreat. He stepped forward into danger.

  The chain snapped shut behind him with a metallic crack, binding only fractured stone. Dust burst upward as the links locked uselessly around empty ground.

  Wei's eyes flickered. Unexpected. Not according to his plan.

  But hesitation did not suit him.

  Close range was precisely where he wanted Ning.

  Wei surged forward immediately, boots blazing with earthen inscriptions. The ground cracked beneath each step as momentum gathered.

  The hammer rose again.

  "Mountain-Quelling Hammer Art."

  But this time, Ning had faster timing. With one smooth move, he unleashed his spear skills.

  [Overturning the dragon]

  The attack went straight to Wei's ribs, sending him tumbling backward, canceling his ult. It was only due to his inner armor that he was able to tank the attack.

  But even then, it was not without internal damage.

  Wei Zhusang spat out the blood. Instead of getting angry, his thoughts became even more active.

  So, he knew the only way to victory was to charge and engage Ning in close quarters.

  Ning calmed down his breath. Repeatedly dodging such an attack had taken a toll on him as well.

  Ning adjusted his stance. Beneath torn robes, his skin shimmered faintly.

  [Jade Skin and Ice Refining Technique]

  This time, his qi did not explode outward; it turned inward.

  Cold qi seeped from the battlefield, from lingering frost, from shattered ice crystals embedded in broken stone, from chilled air that had yet to disperse. It gathered along his meridians, flowing across his skin like a thin crystalline glaze.

  The air around him grew subtly colder.

  Wei charged again.

  Ning did not retreat.

  They collided.

  Hammer met spear.

  Ning did not attempt to block through force, for he knew he never had the chance.

  He let the hammer slide along the spear shaft. He rotated his torso and borrowed force.

  Ning redirected the crushing downward energy sideways into fractured earth.

  The impact still tore at muscle and bone, but he did not yield ground.

  Wei Zhusang frowned. Then he felt it.

  The temperature around Ning was dropping quickly.

  Cold qi layered over Ning's skin like a second armor, faint frost tracing along his arms and collarbone. Beneath their feet, ice began to reform, thin at first, then spreading like creeping veins.

  Wei's boots flared to counter, but the frost was not just for show. With no choice, he swung horizontally, compression tearing through the air.

  Ning twisted inside the pressure arc again.

  Then, he released all of the accumulated cold qi at one point.

  And through contact, through conduction, it worked its magic.

  The hammerhead frosted instantly. A thin layer of ice crawled across the jade core, dimming its glow.

  Wei Zhusang's eyes widened.

  The earth inscriptions guarded against impact, as Wei Zhusang tried to yank the hammer free, for half a breath, his grip stiffened.

  His wrist slowed as the cold bit into tendons and knuckles.

  Half a breath was enough.

  Ning released the haft and spun, spear flashing.

  One thrust, shoulder seam.

  Second, between ribs.

  Third, inner thigh.

  Each strike precise, controlled, merciless.

  Wei Zhusang staggered backward.

  The earlier poison, suppressed by Hundred Treasures Body, reacted to the sudden drop in circulation. Under frost-slowed bloodflow, its residue compounded. His movements grew heavier, a fraction less responsive.

  Ning stepped forward, cold qi still radiating faintly from his skin.

  Wei Zhusang attempted to lift the hammer again.

  His fingers were slightly numb, and his footing was half a beat slow.

  Frost crept along the metal, spreading toward the grip.

  Ning's spear tip stopped at his throat.

  Silence fell across the ruined arena.

  Broken stone lay scattered like shattered teeth. Frost crept across cratered ground.

  Wei Zhusang lowered his gaze to the frost creeping along his weapon. Then to the shallow yet steadily bleeding wounds on his body. Finally, to Ning's trembling, but unyielding, stance.

  "No wonder you kept forcing close combat. This was your plan all along," Wei Zhusang said slowly as the pieces fell into place. "You never revealed that you had reached the marrow-refining stage of Jade Skin and body tempering. My intelligence was flawed."

  Each body-tempering method had its specialty. Jade Skin, combined with Ice Meridian, stored cold qi within the body and released it through direct contact, gradually freezing the opponent.

  But to reach that level, one had to enter the marrow-refining stage, where true power was generated deep within the bones.

  Ordinarily, the generation of cold qi was gradual. Ning shouldn't have been able to accumulate enough of it so quickly. Unless he had used external resources.

  With sufficient wealth, body-refining arts could be advanced rapidly. As long as one had enough materials, progress was simply a matter of refinement.

  Wei exhaled slowly.

  "I knew you were the type to prepare thoroughly before a fight," Ning said. "The only way to overcome preparation… is to bring out something your opponent doesn't expect."

  At the same time, the elder announced, "Winner, Ji Ning."

  ...

  Thanks for reading~

  A/N: Writing Xiao Fan's fight was much easier than writing Ning's, because my entire thought process for his battles is basically: punch, punch harder, and punch hardest. Writing Ning's fight is also quite fun, but it's more troublesome. Anyway, the mandatory tournament arc is over, the inner sect arc begins next.