His new rate of cultivation was breakneck, so much so that even Qian Feng had to admit that it was worth it(no matter how much he wanted to say otherwise). This was further helped out by the fact that due to Qian Feng's spirit realms still being sore, he was in no condition to fight, and as a result had no choice but to cultivate. The Life spirit realm was the first to recover, not surprisingly, but that was also useless to him, since he was both hiding his third affinity and completely unable to win any decently matched fight relying solely upon it(Life cultivators were very vulnerable, but nevertheless valuable to other combatants).

In the three days he spent fully recovering, Qian Feng increased from a level 5 Martial Warrior in all affinities to a Level 6 Martial Warrior in all, which may not seem like a big jump on paper, but that meant it only took him a day to advance one level in a single affinity. And, while the next stages were bound to be harder, especially considering the minor bottleneck from 6 to 7, and the huge one from 9 to Martial King, given his previous speed, there was little doubt progress would be made.

   And, he was ready to fight again.

 The fourth floor was relatively simple to advance to; his increased cultivation base and dramatically augmented Qi regeneration made even the hardest battles a fight of patience - would the immortal, untiring Qian Feng give up from the tedium or would he hold on until his particularly tough opponent either lost their ability to fight or forfeited? Needless to say, Qian Feng won a lot.

  The fourth level was, on the surface, not a major change, with everyone still being under the Martial King realm and thus nothing of note to Qian Feng, but there were subtle differences that made for much more... annoying fights.

  The dramatically higher skill levels, for example, made fights a chore. Although victory was assured for his side, Qian Feng had yet to convince his opponents that, and as a result, the cultivators put up a very good fight. They had nothing on Qian Feng whether in skill or in raw power, but nevertheless managed to act as pesky, small rodents: nowhere near an actual threat, but impossible to kill without significant time and effort.

   But enough of his ruminations - Qian Feng found himself sounding more and more like an arrogant and lofty cultivator day by day. That was alarming, but he supposed it was to be expected.

  As a result of the increased time it took to finish a fight(dramatically so, actually; the right combination of subtle things had drastic effects) it took Qian Feng two days to move up to the fifth floor with a spotless record - not one loss or tie, and he had cleared all the previous four floors in a rarely-seen amount of time. But, then again, that was not too special among those in the fifth floor. A simple purview of the competitors and Qian Feng could easily see that this floor was bound to be far more difficult to clear than the previous ones, posing a challenge at best and simply impossible at worst. But he supposed it wasn't wise to make guesses without the proper experience to back them up.

  And what better way to gain experience than, well, fighting a sample of the population he wanted to study?

   His first opponent looked surprisingly unassuming - that was, if unassuming meant that he seemed to place him self in a position above the emperor of a country.

  With flamboyant robes that looked to flutter even in the absence of wind and sporting vivid colors that would put even the most vibrant of butterflies to shame, Qian Feng almost disdained the Martial King. Almost.

   The thing was, as flashy as he was, there was no doubt that his new opponent had real power - every step he took held an otherwordly grace and flair, the elegant beauty in each of his movements with the capacity to subdue a weaker warrior. Thankfully, Qian Feng did not fit that criteria.

  Unfazed by the Martial King's clear attempt to subdue him, Qian Feng continued on to the stadium, lacking the same mysticism but making up for it in his domineering air.

  Qian Feng was excited - he was about to see just how he matched up to a Martial King!

 For the first time since arriving at the arena, Qian Feng removed a guan dao strapped to his back, assuming the neutral stance. He had previously just summoned a guan dao, but against opponents separated by such a large gap in cultivation, every last bit of Qi he would save by cutting that expense could be crucial. The guan dao itself wasn't too bad, and the Iron Fox had given it to him as a present, telling him to use it when necessary. Where his mentor had gotten it from, Qian Feng didn't know, and didn't care - the Iron Fox wouldn't do anything immoral, he was sure...

   In a stage as advanced as this, Qian Feng also knew he would be able to let loose in more ways than one. 

  A bloody aura emanated from him, terrifying killing intent sweeping out in great waves. This alone could stop a lesser cultivator in his tracks. It had been a while since his carefully-cultivated killing intent was let out, and Qian Feng had to admit, even with his old and experienced mindset, it had been difficult not to let his control slip.

  Off in the stands, the Iron Fox's eyes widened in shock. He found it impossible that such a young boy could comprehend and have control over such frightening killing intent, but along with that astonishment came pride and excitement. Just how terrifying would this boy's future be?

  Qian Feng had no idea, after all, that his current level of experience and killing intent was hard to find among even Martial Kings, and even seasoned warriors with years of experience on the battle field would be pressured to match up to the current level of killing intent Qian Feng had control over. As far as the boy knew, every Martial King had even greater experience and the ability to wield far more formidable killing intent.

  Qian Feng, however, was rather poorly equipped outside of his guan dao. In terms of physical protection, the best attire he wore was simple a martial arts robe, one he had selected randomly from his closet in the inn(storage ring, actually, but no one else had to know that). If he wanted any semblance of protection, he'd have to expend his Qi. Thankfully, he was fine with that - his defense techniques were powerful enough for him to only have weaker defensive capabilities if he wore affordable armor instead.

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  Obsidian Embrace was first activated, creating a layer of Earth-Qi-formed obsidian armor that provided a formidable defense. Qian Feng's second layer of defense was then activated, Tortoise Bulwark, which shrouded his armor in a layer of Earth Qi that boosted his defenses.

   And as his Force and Earth Qi coursed through his body, he was ready and rearing to go.

   The first move that the flamboyant cultivator made(Qian Feng was listening this time, and apparently his name was Mo Shi) made it evident that he was a cultivator that focused on speed, but with a little bit of a twist: it was far more difficult to follow and react to an already rapidly-moving warrior if that warrior was also moving in a profound manner to distract and soften. Even for the battle-hardened Qian Feng, it was difficult to pierce through the distracting facade Mo Shi put up.

  Difficult. Not impossible.

   As Mo Shi circled around the seemingly still-addled Qian Feng, waiting for the perfect moment, a sinister plot was put into play. 

  Several openings were revealed and it seemed impossible for the young boy on the stage to be any more open than he was at that exact moment. 

  Unfortunately, pure combat experience could only bring one so far, and few among the croud were able to realize Qian Feng's true purpose in acting with false befuddlement.

  Seemingly satisfied with how immersed his prey was into the illusion, Mo Shi darted in with a sword in his hand, neither fast nor slow and with a unique rhythm to his movement.

  Unfortunately, Qian Feng's acting skills, honed from years of politics, were being used in this very moment, and just as Mo Shi darted in for the kill, a bulky fist shot out, smashing into his face and sending him sprawling on the outer border of the arena ring.

   Following up, Qian Feng leapt towards his temporarily incapacitated opponent and brought his guan dao down, halting right before Mo Shi's throat. "Surrender," he commanded. "Lest I slip."

  "I surrender!" Mo Shi spoke, a hazy fear in his eyes as he reacted to the cold blade pressed against his neck. 

  Meanwhile, Qian Feng descended from the stage, waiting for his next fight.

   On his seat, Qian Feng began to think about how dangerous that fight was. On the surface, it looked like he had had the whole thing under control, but the cultivator was aware that he was very close into falling into Mo Shi's illusion. It was almost as if the rhythm of his movements was hypnotizing him, lulling him to sleep... A Dream affinity, then? Yes, that made sense, but no matter.

   As he meditated, it was no short amount of time before his next fight was up!

   This fight, Qian Feng knew, would be honest and direct. No trickery or acting; just plain battle. After all, his opponent, Hu Lingqi, simply exuded the aura of a sharply honed sword - he was a sword cultivator.

  Regardless of their affinity, sword cultivators were greatly feared throughout the cultivation world for two reasons: their offensive power and their terrifying devotion to the sword. Their offensive power was near unrivaled, and sword cultivators were known to be able to fight up to a level above their own cultivation(not everyone could be like Qian Feng, after all, and have legendary techniques). But far more fearsome than that was the unconditional devotion that sword cultivators had to the path of the blade. They were known to stare death in the eye and dance along the sea of Hell unflinchingly, as long as that was the path of the sword. Qian Feng was not aware of it, but there was a common saying about sword cultivators: To traverse the path of slaughter and find solace only in the light of the sword is to be a sword cultivator. Holding true to that, sword cultivators placed absolute faith in their skill with a sword, and as a result, wielded great power through their trust in their own strength.

  Because of this mentality, Qian Feng knew he would not be able to pass off any form of deception, since battle was what the sword cultivator lived for, and battle was what they must receive.

  But maybe it had been too long since his last serious fight, after all.

   Hopping up to the stage, Qian Feng faced off his opponent. He knew that this would be a challenge, and the slightest lapse in concentration could result in an instant defeat.

  In preparation, Qian Feng set up several invisible Triggers before the fight even started, effectively covering up all of Hu Lingqi's avenues of approach. Even if he didn't manage to inflict any damage with the explosion, it was worth it just to judge the means of his opponent.

  Hu Lingqi drew his sword, an unadorned jian shrouded in... Qian Feng recognized Wind Qi. Speed and strength, then.

  True to his predictions, the sword cultivator dashed forward with rapid movements, slicing apart the Qi balls Qian Feng threw at him with ease.

  Even the Trigger was instantaneously reacted to and neutralized, inflicting almost no damage and only revealing Hu Lingqi's dexterity and maneuverability. 

  This would be fun.

  Qian Feng knew that unless he had no choice, he had to refrain from using Titan's Fortress, because even in Reun Arena, or the outside world, such a technique would get him killed instantly by greedy cultivators - it was just too high-quality.

  So he readied an Aurora Blade, shrouding his guan dao in Force Qi, as the sword cultivator approached him and sent a blade of Wind Qi his way.

  Quickly, Qian Feng calculated that the attack did not have enough power in it to break through his defenses and promptly ignored it, opting for a powerful sweep to make Hu Lingqi keep his distance and thus make proper use of the advantages of the guan dao.

  Soon, the two warriors fell into a sort of groove, rapidly trading blows as they fought, both the sword cultivator and the Martial Warrior falling into a battle trance.

   Internally, Qian Feng unparalleled joy as he felt that he had indeed found a peer; one who enjoyed fighting as much as he did! He had no plans on befriending the sword cultivator or anything of the sort, but it was still reassuring to know that there were others out there. He was pretty sure his teacher was also a battle addict, but that was irrelevant.

  As they fought, Qian Feng began noticing Hu Lingqi's strength flagging, his stamina drawn upon from the extended period they had intensely battled. They were slight signs, but the exertion began to add up.

  If there was anything Qian Feng specialized, though, it was sustained battles.

 Ten minutes later, and a disappointed sword cultivator walked off the stage staring at the gleam of his blade, seemingly comforted by it. There had been no exciting ending, no flashy moves, just battle until one party could not anymore. And Qian Feng, without a doubt, had enjoyed it greatly. 

 Regardless, the day had passed quickly, and Qian Feng had to head home to cultivate. He had gained experience on fighting against peers, but the warrior still had not fought enough to either appease his desire for battle or provide a frame of reference for his capability to fight across realms.

  That would be a slower affair, no doubt, but he was making good progress, and Qian Feng was sure he'd be out of Reun Arena in no time!