One person: Starting with the Snow Drinking Blade

On the day of the finals, Longhu Mountain was engulfed in a near-boiling clamor from dawn. Every available space around the training ground was already packed with a sea of ​​heads; the aisles, steps, and even the low walls and tree branches surrounding the stands were crammed with eager spectators. The air was thick with excitement, curiosity, and fervent discussion, the sounds converging and soaring into the sky.

Vendors selling snacks and drinks shouted themselves hoarse, but their goods still couldn't keep up with demand. Even more resourceful scalpers were selling the "rights to use" front-row seats for an astonishing five-figure price, yet enthusiasts still rushed to buy them, just to witness this final battle.

Inside the contestant tunnel, Zhang Chulan is undergoing a difficult "journey".

"Make way! Everyone! Please make way!" He struggled to move forward in the crowded throng, shouting as he pushed his way through, "Excuse me! Excuse me! I'm a finalist! Let me through! I'm going to be late!"

Most people around him just glanced at him and remained unmoved; some even deliberately nudged him.

"The finalists? Who are they?" someone muttered.

"It seems to be Zhang Chulan... that 'shameless' guy."

"Oh, it's him... Let him go! Hurry up and let Nie Lingfeng teach him a lesson!"

"Yeah! Let him go over there and get beaten up! We're all waiting to see!"

"Nie Lingfeng! Beat him to a pulp! Don't hold back!"

Zhang Chulan's forehead veins throbbed as he listened, but he was powerless to refute them, so he could only push forward even harder. When he finally managed to reach the edge of the arena, his hair was disheveled, his collar was askew, and one of his shoes had been stepped on by someone. He could only awkwardly hop on one foot to put the shoe back on, panting heavily.

He raised his head and looked at the other end of the ring.

Nie Lingfeng had already been standing there quietly.

He was still dressed in that simple black, belted martial arts uniform, which accentuated his upright, spear-like posture. His long hair was meticulously tied back into a neat high ponytail, revealing his smooth forehead and serene face. Most striking was the long sword wrapped in gray cloth on his back—the Snow Drinking Blade. He crossed his arms, his eyes slightly closed, seemingly oblivious to the surrounding clamor, exuding a calm and composed aura. Surprisingly, within a three-meter radius of him, there was no one; the audience seemed to be subdued by an invisible aura, automatically making way for him.

"Is this the aura of a top expert...?" Zhang Chulan muttered to himself, feeling both envious and a little intimidated. He took a deep breath, trying to calm his somewhat erratic heartbeat and breathing.

The referee strode to the center of the arena, surveyed the surroundings, channeled his inner energy, and his booming voice drowned out the clamor from below: "Silence! The final match of the Luo Tian Grand Ceremony—now begins!"

The entire arena fell silent for a moment, with countless eyes focused on the arena.

"The two opponents—" The referee pointed to both ends of the ring, "Zhang Chulan! vs.—Nie Lingfeng!"

"Whoosh—!!!"

After a brief silence, an even more intense wave of sound erupted!

"It's starting! It's finally starting!"

"Nie Lingfeng! Give him a quick death!"

"Zhang Chulan! Hang in there! If you can last even one minute, I'll consider you a winner!"

"The betting market is now open! Bet on how many moves Nie Lingfeng will take to win! One move pays 1.1, three moves pays 3, and ten or more pays 10!"

"I'm betting one move! Nie Lingfeng can take Wang Bing only three seconds!"

"I'm betting half a move! Zhang Chulan will probably be too intimidated to move!"

"Zhang Chulan! Hang in there! I'm betting you can last five minutes!"

Hearing these undisguised skepticisms and jokes, Zhang Chulan's lips twitched involuntarily a few times. The tension in his heart was instead diluted by a spirit of not giving up.

He took one last deep breath, stepped onto the arena, and stood about ten zhang away from Nie Lingfeng. This distance gave him some reaction time and was also a common starting distance in martial arts competitions.

"Brother Feng," Zhang Chulan clasped his hands in a fist salute, forcing a smile, but his eyes were incredibly serious, "Later...go easy on him."

Nie Lingfeng slowly opened his eyes, his gaze clear and calm, without the slightest ripple. He looked at Zhang Chulan, a gentle yet enigmatic smile playing on his lips: "Don't worry. I'll know my limits."

Seeing that both sides were ready, the referee did not hesitate any longer, raised his right hand, and shouted loudly, "The match begins!"

As soon as the word "begin" was uttered, Zhang Chulan was the first to move!

He was well aware of the enormous gap in strength between himself and Nie Lingfeng, and that passive defense would only lead to certain death! His only chance of survival lay in taking the initiative to attack, in unleashing the full potential of his month-long special training, and in playing with his own momentum and rhythm!

Wind God Leg Technique 1: Catching the Wind and Shadows!

Zhang Chulan pushed his internal energy to its limit, his figure suddenly transforming into a blurry afterimage, like an arrow released from a bow, rushing straight towards Nie Lingfeng at the fastest speed he could reach! The speed was so fast that it even brought a clear sound of wind breaking, eliciting a murmur from the audience.

However, faced with this swift attack, Nie Lingfeng didn't even move his feet. He simply stood still until Zhang Chulan's leg was about to strike, then seemingly casually raised his right hand and gently patted forward.

This strike was made without the sound of wind or the surge of Qi; it was as light and effortless as brushing dust off one's shoulder.

"Smack."

A crisp, light sound.

Zhang Chulan felt a gentle yet irresistible force coming from Nie Lingfeng's palm. His kick, delivered with all his might, seemed to have struck an invisible, elastic wall of air! All his strength and speed were easily deflected and redirected by this gentle force, and he was sent flying backward uncontrollably!

He struggled to adjust his center of gravity in mid-air, tumbling twice awkwardly. When he landed, he still couldn't steady himself, staggering back seven or eight steps before finally managing to stand still, his right leg feeling sore and numb.

The audience erupted in unrestrained laughter and boos:

"Hahaha! Can't even withstand one move! That's it?"

"Zhang Chulan, are you even capable? If not, just admit defeat!"

"Go home, wash up, and go to bed! Don't embarrass yourself!"

"Nie Lingfeng! Stop playing around! End this already!"

Zhang Chulan shook his numb right leg, gritted his teeth, and forcibly blocked out the piercing sounds. He stared intently at the still calm and collected Nie Lingfeng, his eyes burning with even more intense fighting spirit.

The gap is indeed huge, but... it's not over yet!

He quickly formed a complex hand seal in front of his chest, and the true qi that he had condensed after special training began to circulate and surge wildly at an unprecedented speed!

"Yang Wu Lei - Thunder Mode!"

"BOOM—!!"

A blinding white lightning bolt suddenly erupted from Zhang Chulan's body! Countless tiny electric snakes danced wildly around him, crackling and popping! His hair stood on end, his pupils turned completely into a dazzling silver-white, and his aura suddenly surged, filled with a violent, unstoppable thunderous pressure!

Even more astonishing is the renewed surge in speed!

"call out--!"

Leaving behind a twisted white afterimage of lightning, Zhang Chulan's true form, carrying a raging bolt of lightning, charged at Nie Lingfeng once more at several times the speed of before! This time, he didn't use his legs, but instead clenched his right fist, compressing and condensing all the raging Yang Lightning power into his fist, and unleashed a punch straight at Nie Lingfeng's face! Wherever the fist passed, the air was ionized, emitting a burnt smell!

A clear hint of approval finally flashed in Nie Lingfeng's eyes.

Indeed, this kid has put in a lot of effort and has a lot of ideas to develop the "swiftness" and "violentness" characteristics of Yang Wu Lei to this extent and use them to temporarily strengthen himself.

Just as the fist, enveloped in blazing white lightning, was about to touch his nose, Nie Lingfeng moved. He merely turned slightly to the side, and the ferocious punch grazed his cheek, the scorching wind it generated ruffling his hair. At the same time, his right hand rose again, transforming from a palm into fingers, and with incredible precision and gentleness, he lightly touched the area near Zhang Chulan's shoulder acupoint amidst Zhang Chulan's lunging momentum.

"Bang!"

With a muffled thud, Zhang Chulan's forward momentum abruptly halted, and he was once again pulled backward as if by an invisible rope!

But this time, with the "Thunderbolt Mode" boost, Zhang Chulan's reaction and body control were significantly improved. He forcibly twisted his body in mid-air, like a hawk doing a somersault, dissipating some of the force. Although he still staggered back a few steps when he landed, he did not fall down again. He only felt a tingling and numb pain in his shoulder, and his blood and qi surged slightly.

"Again!!" Zhang Chulan roared, his eyes flashing with even brighter silver lightning as he forcefully suppressed his discomfort. He knew that "Thunderbolt Mode" was extremely taxing and couldn't be used for long; he had to seize every second of the opportunity!

He clasped his hands together in front of his chest, palms facing each other, and blinding lightning gathered and compressed wildly!

"Yang Wu Lei - Little White Snake!"

"Sizzle—!"

A condensed, extremely thin white electric snake, no thicker than a chopstick yet blindingly bright, shot out from between his palms like a living spirit! This electric snake was incredibly fast and agile, drawing unpredictable and treacherous arcs in the air, avoiding any direct block by Nie Lingfeng. Like a true venomous snake, it attacked Nie Lingfeng's neck from an extremely tricky side angle!

Nie Lingfeng raised his eyebrows slightly.

This move... is quite interesting. It's ingenious to highly compress and condense Yang lightning, endowing it with a certain "spirituality" and controllability, and specifically targeting weak points in defense.

Instead of taking the hit head-on or defending, he swayed and unleashed the "Wind God Leg" technique, known as "Strong Grass in the Wind." His figure instantly became elusive, like a leaf in a raging storm, moving and flashing lightly and eerily across the arena.

The nimble white electric snake followed closely behind, its speed no less, constantly twisting and changing direction in the air, relentlessly biting Nie Lingfeng's figure. Every time it barely made a hair's breadth, it would brush past the hem of his clothes and the tip of his hair, leaving behind tiny scorch marks and ionized air explosions. The scene was thrilling and exciting, eliciting gasps from the audience.