After working for both the righteous and demonic factions, I became a big shot.

To be honest, Feng Liao had played with fire his whole life, but this was the first time he had ever been burned head-on by his own fire, and he was completely stunned.

At this moment, Shen An also made his move.

He suddenly had a long sword in his hand, which looked quite ordinary.

But with just one sword strike, Feng Liao had nowhere to retreat and could only face his own raging fire.

The sword appeared for only three breaths before Shen An quickly retrieved it.

Almost no one noticed.

........

Shen An won again.

This victory was even more inexplicable. How did he come up with the idea of ​​using his opponent's fire to attack them? The audience felt that Shen An's mind was not like theirs.

The entire venue was silent for a full two breaths, then erupted into a discussion louder than the previous ones, with many more doubts expressed this time.

"How could he win like that? He used his opponent's fire to burn his opponent, he barely even made a move himself..."

"Did Feng Liao burn himself out and lose?"

"What happened to Feng Liao just now? Why didn't he run away?"

"I think Shen An is too lucky. He wins every match by using tricks. If it were a head-on confrontation, how could a mid-Foundation Establishment cultivator possibly defeat a Golden Core cultivator?"

Shen An bowed to the referee and walked off the stage. As he passed the audience, the whispers and murmurs reached his ears without him being bothered.

He didn't stop to explain, nor did he deliberately walk faster. He simply walked through the crowd back to the rest area of ​​Lanyue Peak with a normal expression, took the water bottle handed to him by Xue Linglong, took a sip, and then sat down.

Sikong Ying looked at him and advised, "Junior brother, you've reached the top 32. Master's mission is complete. The opponents ahead will only get stronger. There's a possibility of mid-stage Golden Core, late-stage Golden Core, or even half-step Nascent Soul. Forget it."

Many people on Lanyue Peak were surprised that Shen An could fight to this extent. After all, Shen An had always been known as a strategic and witty junior brother. How could he be so good at fighting now?

Even if they won by using their brains, they still made it to the top 32!

Hou Yifang chimed in, "Yeah, junior brother, let's call it a day. It's better to go back to the market and run our business properly than to get beaten up here."

He had long since pledged allegiance to Shen An, and naturally did not want anything to happen to his junior brother. He felt that his junior brother's talent should not be wasted here.

Shen An put down the kettle and then looked up at the direction of the elders' platform in the distance.

The Moon Fairy was sitting there eating melon seeds. When she saw him looking over, she waved at him, unable to suppress the smile on her face. She was obviously very smug.

He withdrew his gaze and shook his head: "Fellow senior brothers and sisters, I would like to play another round."

"Why?" they asked in unison.

Shen An thought for a moment, naturally not daring to reveal his true purpose, and instead said nonchalantly:

"I want to see how far I can go. The opponents ahead are all true powerhouses. Being able to fight them once is more useful than half a year of hard training in seclusion."

Most importantly, the three Holy Son candidates that Elder Qingxu asked him to observe are all in the later stages of the competition, and he must continue forward to make contact with them.

Sikong Ying looked at him for a while before slowly saying, "Alright, I'll tell my master, and we'll have another round."

Over the next two days, Shen An had two things to do: one was to observe the three candidates for the Holy Son.

The Grand Elder's personal disciple Zhou Xuan, Blood Fiend Peak's Holy Son candidate Xue Wuhen, and another Holy Son candidate from Yin Fiend Peak, Liu Wuxiang.

He watched all their matches, sat in a corner and silently noted down each person's fighting habits, techniques, rhythm, and so on, and compiled an analysis report.

The second thing is to prepare for the next round of opponents.

He glanced at the name after drawing the lot and remained silent for a long while.

Xiao Hen, a sword cultivator in the mid-stage of the Golden Core realm, is known as "Blood Sword".

Is this God's way of letting me show off my swordsmanship?

Shen An put down the match schedule and let out a long breath.

In this match, he had no choice but to reveal some of his true abilities.

Master's special training, Senior Sister Feng Qingyu's thoughtful guidance...

Shen An didn't sleep much that night.

He locked himself in his cave and practiced the three sword techniques that Feng Qingyu had taught him over a hundred times.

He starts by sinking the sword tip, then relaxes his shoulders as he changes his stance, and finishes by holding his breath for a moment. He breaks down and puts back together every move.

With his master's special training and Feng Qingyu's swordsmanship combined, he finally managed to grasp a fighting style of his own.

........

On match day, in the ring.

Xiao Hen stood opposite, tall and slender, with a dark red longsword hanging at his waist. He was like a sword that had been sheathed, its sharpness restrained yet making people feel suffocated.

The two stared at each other for less than a moment. The referee's whistle had just been given when a blood-red sword light arrived in front of Shen An, so fast that it seemed as if it hadn't even covered the distance in between.

At that moment, the next sword swept in from the side, at a tricky angle, precisely blocking Shen An's only escape route.

Shen An was forced to take the sword head-on. The moment the swords collided, a tremendous force surged up the hilt of the sword, making his hand go numb and forcing him to kneel on one knee.

The difference between the mid-Foundation Establishment stage and the mid-Golden Core stage was clearly laid out in this sword strike. The overwhelming sense of dominance from true qi to power was completely different from all previous opponents!

Someone in the audience whispered, "Shen An probably won't last three breaths in this round."

Shen An struggled to maintain his balance while kneeling at the edge of the ring, his left hand on the ground, his right hand holding a short sword horizontally. Then he made a move that no one expected:

He released his right hand, letting the short sword fall to the ground, and his whole body shrank a few more feet, almost touching the stone slab at the edge of the arena.

The blood sword barely grazed his scalp.

Then he flipped his right hand and pulled out another longsword from somewhere.

It was a long sword with a dark blue body, narrow and long, without any decoration, and quite ordinary.

But his starting stance was different; the tip of his sword dipped down an inch before he pushed it forward.

This movement is so subtle that only someone who truly understands swordsmanship can see it.

Among the elders in the stands, one who was a sword cultivator twitched his brow slightly.

Shen An drew his sword!

He took the initiative to meet him, raising his sword at a tricky angle, taking advantage of the gap when Xiao Hen's sword momentum was about to end.

Was this sword strike slow?

It wasn't fast, but the timing was perfect, like someone who had been waiting for a long time finally seeing the door open a crack.

Xiao Hen frowned slightly, dodged to the side, and thrust his sword at Shen An's left shoulder with a backhand motion.

Shen An didn't take the blow head-on. Instead, he took a step to the side following the force, relaxed his shoulder, changed his move, and slashed upwards from the side, the tip of his sword drawing an arc, aiming straight for Xiao Hen's wrist.

Xiao Hen finally got serious.

He took a half step back to create distance, his blood sword paused slightly, and then his aura surged as if it had been ignited.

For the next dozen or so breaths, Shen An defended almost entirely on instinct.

Xiao Hen's sword strikes became faster and more frequent, like layers of surging tides that made it hard for him to breathe.

He was forced back seven or eight steps, took a sword to the right shoulder, his robe was torn open and shallow blood seeped out, and his left leg was also swept by the sword energy, making his steps obviously unsteady.

But he never collapsed. During the days and nights of his master's special training, he was thrown out far more often than this, and the dull pain from hitting the stone wall was much more severe.

He was being beaten, but his eyes remained fixed on the tip of Xiao Hen's sword.

He was waiting for that moment when he would "hold back his momentum for a moment." After each round of attacks, Xiao Hen would pause for a very short time when returning his sword.

The moment arrived when the ninth round of attacks ended!

Instead of retreating, Shen An took a step forward.

He thrust out his dark blue longsword with ease, his initial stance a low, sharp point. Xiao Hen instinctively parried, but then shifted his stance, loosening his shoulder. The sword's momentum slid to the side, following the angle of Xiao Hen's parry. Xiao Hen was forced to change his stance again, holding back for a moment.

Just as Xiao Hen finished withdrawing his sword strike, Shen An's sword tip advanced one last inch, stopping precisely three inches in front of Xiao Hen's throat, and then stopped.

The entire room fell completely silent.

Xiao Hen stared at the dark blue sword tip in front of his throat, paused for three breaths, and then slowly sheathed the blood sword.

"Who taught you your swordsmanship?"

He considered himself to be one of the best swordsmen among demonic cultivators. Even including the righteous path, only a few geniuses from the Sword Pavilion had a higher talent in swordsmanship than him.

Shen An sheathed his sword and stood still, his chest heaving violently, the blood on his right shoulder already staining half of his sleeve: "I figured it out myself, without anyone to teach me."

At this moment, everyone in the audience was amazed by this wonderful skill. They had only one thought in their minds: Can he continue to fight?

A few days ago, they would have thought it impossible, but today, none of them could have guessed Shen An's true nature.

.........