Zhou Ming felt the direct brunt of Han Xue's pressure. It was as if any tiny motion from her opponent could snap her life away. She sighed and spoke meekly, “Sister Xue Er, I’m sorry for getting out of line. I won’t speak carelessly again. I concede the match!”

Han Xue instinctively glanced at Han Xiao, who responded with a meaningful, charming smile. She pushed her sword back, and the intense, chilling pressure subsided. Cupping her palms, she casually strode back to her seat among the Heretic Hag Gang. The group of ladies welcomed her back with praises, sucking up to her, which she didn’t mind at all.

Zhou Ming also returned to her seat beside the muscle-headed Yiqu Lin. He cheered her up, saying both of them had lost their matches with dignity.

Now, the final challenge was left to the leader of the Three Fangs of Class X, Teng Liang, with a menacing scar on his left cheek. There was a rumor that the scar was from a dragon when he was just two years old.

The air was thick with anticipation as Teng Liang stepped forward, his calm demeanor contrasting with the fierce energy emanating from him. His classmates knew this was going to be a fight to remember.

His gaze swept across the class and landed on his opponent. "Him!" Teng Liang declared, pointing at a youth wearing a purple Daoist robe with a white headband, binding his long red locks.

The chosen youth stood up with a confident smile, revealing a quirky and flimsy appearance that set him apart. Zhao Jian, as he was known, had a slender frame that belied his strength. His long red hair, tied back with a white headband, flowed like a cascade of flames down his back. The purple Daoist robe he wore was slightly oversized, giving him a whimsical, almost carefree look. His bright, mischievous eyes sparkled with intelligence and a hint of playful mischief.

Zhao Jian's movements were light and fluid, almost as if he were gliding rather than walking. Despite his flimsy appearance, there was an unmistakable aura of confidence and skill around him. His demeanor suggested that he was not to be underestimated, and his presence added an intriguing contrast to the serious, intense atmosphere of the impending battle.

“I have long heard about your strength, Brother Teng Liang. And today, you have given me such an opportunity to face you. Don’t hold back, or...” The first part of Zhao Jian's words sounded friendly, but he became fiercer as if experiencing a sudden mood swing. “I’ll make another long scar on your right cheek to make them look perfect and less horrifying.”

Cupping his palms, he added, “Prince Zhao Jian of the Great Zhao Nation!”

The author's tale has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

Teng Liang didn’t react to the remark, though it was slightly provocative. He greeted back in martial tradition: “Prince Teng Liang of the Lesser Teng Nation!”

Elder Wang raised his hand and shouted, “This will be today’s last match. I’ll not repeat myself. Adhere to martial culture while you engage in this friendly spar. If you want to sort out your angst, then you can do so elsewhere. Remember, this is for the upcoming Martial Arts Meet! I want things to go fair and smooth. Do you understand me?”

Waiting for the class’s response, he finally let his palm down and uttered, “Begin!”

The tension in the air was palpable as the two princes faced each other, ready to clash in what promised to be a spectacular showdown.

“I’m a swordsman. And I’ve prepared some special moves just for you.” Uttering this, Zhao Jian reached for the two swords hanging at his opposite waists, his arms crossing as he drew them out. One blade shimmered with a purple hue, while the other had a grayish, almost ethereal quality.

Everyone’s reaction was like, who isn’t? Bro, we’re all in the Sword Academy and we are here because we have a strong affinity for the sword.

Teng Liang nodded, a hint of respect in his eyes. “Then show me what you’ve got, Zhao Jian.”

The crowd held its breath as the two warriors readied themselves, the anticipation building to a fever pitch.

Zhao Jian chanted a spell, and suddenly an aura belonging to the late stage of the Nine Layers of the Pulse Condensation Realm exuded from him, making everyone rethink their initial impression. The quirky-looking youth was clearly more than he appeared to be.

In contrast, not an ounce of Qi leaked from Teng Liang. He unfastened his whole sword, sheath and all, from his waist. His expression became serious; it was clear that he didn't care whether his opponent was weak or strong. He had the attitude of giving his all in every battle, and this could be seen clearly by others today.

Teng Liang was always considered the uncontested strongest disciple in Class X. However, today, many dark horses appeared that might even eclipse his former fame. He was once in the elite class but was marked as delinquent after slaughtering a group of disciples and subsequently expelled. Given his martial aptitude, the Tianfu Sword Palace didn't want to lose him. After deep discussions among the elder union, he was banished to Class X along with Zhou Ming and Yiqu Lin. It was rumored that Zhou Ming had something to do with Teng Liang receiving such a lenient punishment, which amounted to little more than a slap on the wrist.

Han Xiao eagerly anticipated this fight. He had always regarded Teng Liang as being on par with the Five Tigers of the Outer Court. Teng Liang, however, had no interest in titles and refused to compete for such showy accolades. Certainly!

Like him, other talented individuals were keeping a low profile, waiting for the opportune moment to reveal their true abilities.

The duel commenced with Zhao Jian taking the lead. He advanced toward his opponent with deliberate speed, his arms moving in a strategic pattern aimed at exploiting Teng Liang's defenses.

Teng Liang sidestepped gracefully, evading the strikes directed at him. As Zhao Jian intensified his attacks, Teng Liang found himself using his sheath to block some strikes while adjusting his stance.

Maintaining his offensive momentum, Zhao Jian's strikes grew stronger but left openings in his defensive posture.

Teng Liang patiently waited, using precise movements to block each sword strike with his sheathed weapon, carefully assessing his opponent's strategy.

Suddenly changing his approach, Zhao Jian infused his swords with a surge of essence qi and charged forward. "Thousand Leaves Severing Style!" he proclaimed, his agile movements accelerating.

In response, Teng Liang opted to block every swing of the twin swords with precision using his sheathed sword. Despite his skill, he was gradually pushed backward by Zhao Jian's relentless assault. Spectators marveled at Zhao Jian's ability to gain the upper hand against Teng Liang, questioning the truth of the rumors surrounding the scar-faced martial artist.

However, the experienced observers in the crowd, including Han Xiao, the elders, and the instructors, understood that this was just the beginning.