Chapter 955: A Blade Faster Than Sound
Under countless shocked gazes, Xuan Yuan Po walked down from the arena platform and approached the small table. Looking at the minor official, he asked, "May I ask how long the next round will take?"
The minor official, still recalling the scene on the platform just moments ago, unconsciously lowered his gaze as if to avoid meeting Xuan Yuan Po's eyes—only to see his fists.
Those fists, ordinary in appearance yet terrifyingly formidable.
The minor official's face turned pale. With trembling hands, he flipped through the roster for a long time before saying, "There are still... seven matches left."
His voice trembled slightly as well, whether from fear or something else.
Xuan Yuan Po didn't notice these details. Calculating the time seven matches would take, he turned and walked out of the crowd.
Many curious eyes followed him, wondering where he was going after just winning his match.
The minor official's emotions calmed somewhat. Thinking back to his earlier loss of composure, he felt a twinge of embarrassment mixed with anger, and two patches of unnatural redness appeared on his pale face.
Suddenly, a clamor erupted as countless gazes turned toward the arena platform.
The victor of that match was a gaunt middle-aged man with an indifferent expression, holding a chilling iron blade in his hand.
Seeing that middle-aged man, the minor official was startled, thinking, "Why has this fierce man also come to Song Town to fight in the arena?"
A possibility struck him. He quickly flipped through the roster and schedule, confirming that this gaunt man would indeed be Xuan Yuan Po's next opponent.
He finally breathed a sigh of relief, a surge of satisfaction washing over him. Staring at Xuan Yuan Po's distant figure wandering somewhere on the street, he thought bitterly, "So what if you have some brute strength? You'll only last one more round before you're chopped down like a dog!"
...
...
The Heaven Selection Ceremony was a grand event for the demon race. Even the remote arena at Song Town was bustling with activity. The matches, initially expected to be lackluster, turned out to be full of twists and turns. Especially after Xuan Yuan Po's victory, the following seven matches featured true experts, making the scenes exceptionally thrilling.
The poor folk of Song Town didn't understand what was happening, but the Carp Clan steward, along with officials from the Demon Court and the Council of Elders, had long guessed the real reason.
Many experts among the demon race didn't aspire to win the Heaven Selection Ceremony outright and become Lord Luo Luo's husband. But they wanted to advance as far as possible in the ceremony, bringing glory to their tribes and themselves. If they could ultimately earn the right to enter the Sacred Tree and undergo the Wildfire Baptism, that would be even better.
These experts knew that if they went to arenas near the Imperial Palace or the Celestial Keep, they would struggle to last long. So they deliberately chose Song Town, the most remote arena, hoping to avoid opponents of equal or greater strength, enduring as long as possible and going further.
It seemed many experts shared this mindset. For instance, the Xiang Clan youth defeated by Xuan Yuan Po, and the dozen or so formidable figures who appeared later. But compared to the arenas near the Imperial Palace and the Celestial Keep, the difficulty here was still much lower.
As these experts took the stage one after another, the matches grew increasingly intense. After the final seven matches ended, the crystals maintaining the arena's protective formation needed replacing—a testament to how fierce the battles had been. Especially when two highly renowned demon clan powerhouses appeared, the crowd's excitement soared. Gasps and shouts rang out continuously around the arena. The shock from Xuan Yuan Po's first match had largely subsided, but the Demon Court official and some onlookers still occasionally glanced toward the edge of the crowd, eyeing the brown paper bag Xuan Yuan Po carried, wondering what was inside.
Silently, the red sun had crossed the peaks on the opposite shore, shining down on the river. The last morning mist over White Emperor City had fully dissipated. The first round of matches at most arenas had basically concluded, and the same was true at Song Town. Soon, it was Xuan Yuan Po's turn to take the stage again.
Seeing Xuan Yuan Po's figure, the crowd around the arena recalled his mountain-shattering fist and erupted in cheers. Some neighbors who knew him from daily life and resting laborers shouted encouragement loudly. But when Xuan Yuan Po's opponent also appeared on the platform, the cheers and shouts quickly died down.
Xuan Yuan Po's opponent was the gaunt middle-aged man who had followed him onto the stage in the first round.
Seeing that gaunt middle-aged man, the crowd around the arena showed signs of fear. The minor official behind the table sneered coldly. Even the Carp Clan steward on the platform and the two officials from the Demon Court and the Council of Elders couldn't help shaking their heads, their emotions growing complicated.
This gaunt middle-aged man came from the Nie Clan, named Nie Chi. He was a true powerhouse of the demon race, renowned on both sides of the Red River. His true essence was extremely profound, and his blade technique was ruthlessly cold—much like his temperament. Few opponents who fell to his blade survived.
In the first round, his opponent had been decapitated with a single slash, and the supervising Demon Court official hadn't even had time to intervene.
This demon clan expert's blade technique was astonishingly fast, like lightning. It was said he once told a companion that while his skill in the way of the blade was far inferior to Wang Po's, if it came to pure speed, even Wang Po's blade might not be faster than his.
"Your strength is indeed impressive, but that's far from enough," Nie Chi said, looking at Xuan Yuan Po expressionlessly. "Because you're too slow."
These seemingly plain words were actually quite domineering and made a valid point.
No matter how great one's strength, if they couldn't keep up with an opponent's speed, how could they ever land a blow?
Hearing this, Xuan Yuan Po fell silent.
It wasn't because he felt uneasy or lacked confidence, but because he recalled the words Bie Yang Hong had spoken to him before leaving the courtyard that morning.
Speed is strength.
How to understand that?
Speed, in essence, is an application of strength.
A true expert would never be someone with boundless strength who didn't know how to use it.
How could one convert strength into speed? If only he had some time to properly comprehend Bie Yang Hong's words, or perhaps...
But there was no "or perhaps."
And there was no time.
A flash of light, both blindingly bright and piercingly cold, suddenly appeared in Xuan Yuan Po's dark pupils.
It was the gleam of a blade.
Though his words were dismissive, Nie Chi was still wary of Xuan Yuan Po's strength, so he gave him no time to prepare.
He would use his fastest blade to directly cleave off Xuan Yuan Po's head.
This slash was indeed swift, as fierce as a galloping horse, as real as lightning.
Only after the blade's gleam had turned into a streak of light unfolding in Xuan Yuan Po's pupils did the sound of the iron blade leaving its sheath ring out.
With a sharp, clear clang, the sharp, chilling iron blade cut through the air.
By the time the crowd around the arena heard that sound, the iron blade was already less than half a foot from Xuan Yuan Po's neck.