Supreme Emperor of Swords

Time flew by.

The number of people around him continued to decrease steadily.

Four hours later, only ten young men remained in the sword formation picture number eight, including Ding Hao, Zhang Fan, and Li Canyang. The others had either chosen to forfeit this round due to the unbearable pain, or fainted dead away and had been carried out of the formation.

Ding Hao was starting to feel the strain.

As time ticked by, the pressure within this formation had also gradually increased. At this point in time, it was already close to ten times more than the beginning.

Zhang Fan was clearly doing his best to hang on. His entire body was covered in sweat droplets that were as big as soybeans and his normal features had contorted themselves into a hideous visage due to the intense pain. His lips were almost destroyed from all that biting down on them and streams of dark red blood flowed down from his lips to his chest. His palms were planted firmly on the ground to support him and his entire body shook unsteadily as he continued to bear the unthinkable pain.

Ding Hao and Zhang Fan were the only two out of the ten remaining participants that did not use magic to resist this pressure.

Even Li Canyang's handsome face, which had been a picture of relaxation earlier, was now contorted in pain. His white robe was also soaked through with sweat and the sky blue faint glow from his body flickered in and out as he relied on Qi to resist this pressure.

This was the moment where the true test of perseverance began.

Under such tremendous pressure, every minute and second felt like an invisible small knife was slicing off the flesh from one's body. This was as though one was experiencing slow death by dismemberment and the pain was indescribable. A moment of weakness in one's willpower would likely result in that person fainting.

"Thud!"

One young man in the corner was finally unable to bear it any longer and fainted.

15 minutes later.

"Thud!"

"Thud!"

Another four young men fainted.

After another 30 minutes, only Ding Hao, Li Canyang and Zhang Fan remained in sword formation picture number eight.

At this point in time, Ding Hao was experiencing intense pain.

Something had changed within the sword formation picture and now in addition to the huge pressure they had to bear, they faced an added pressure in the form of an aura that seemingly belonged to an expert martial artist permeated the area and affected one's soul. This pain far surpassed the torture of dismemberment by a thousand or even ten thousand times. It was just like the legendary sea of bitterness in hell, and those without enough willpower might even lose their minds when placed in such a situation!

"Didn't expect that…I'd still…lose…..lose to you!"

Nearby, Li Canyang whose eyes had been tightly shut suddenly opened his eyes and stared straight at Ding Hao, full of unwillingness to lose. Then, his body suddenly swayed and fresh blood spurted from his mouth before he fainted dead away.

It turned out that this scheming young master of Xiyang Town had already noticed Ding Hao and had been secretly trying to compete with him all this time.

Unfortunately, he was not able to hold on and finally lost to Ding Hao.

Immediately, four third-generation disciples rushed in and carried the unconscious Li Canyang out of the formation.

Ding Hao shook his head.

He had not expected that Li Canyang had treated him like someone he had to surpass.

It seemed like his extraordinary performance earlier had aroused the attention of many talents.

Ding Hao was about to reach the end of his tether.

Up until now, he had not used his Qi but relied purely on his physical strength to make it this far. Just as he was about to exert his Qi to alleviate some of the pressure, his gaze suddenly focused on Zhang Fan.

This young man who was a hunter had almost transformed into a blood person.

His sweat had been replaced by drops of blood which oozed from every pore of his body. It gathered to form a bloody river that spread itself like paste all over his body. If not for the fact that his body still trembled slightly, his chest heaved with labored breathing and that his eyes still flickered, one would have assumed that he had already fainted.

His willpower was as strong as steel!

Ding Hao could understand why Zhang Fan was hanging on so obstinately. After all, he was already fourteen and had an average showing during the earlier test of property. This meant that his chances of entering Swordsmanship-seeking Sect were very slim, so he would have to give it his all during this final assessment by relying on pure human strength to even win a silver of hope.

Ding Hao could also see the hunters who had accompanied Zhang Fan monitoring the situation anxiously outside the sword formation picture. Their eyes were filled with hope.

Indeed, to these ordinary hunters, Zhang Fan's perseverance probably signified their best hope.

Ding Hao bowed his head and thought for a moment. Then he stopped trying to resist the pressure and slowly rose to his feet to leave the sword formation picture.

In accordance with Swordsmanship-seeking Sect's tradition, the final participant remaining in every sword formation picture would receive bonus points. Ding Hao could have carried on, but he had been touched by this ordinary young man.

Ding Hao suddenly felt that he should let this struggling young man receive the bonus points. This might even give him the boost he needed to enter Swordsmanship-seeking Sect.

"Thank...thank you..."

As Ding Hao walked past Zhang Fan, the bloodied figure eked out these words from his lips that had already been destroyed.

Ding Hao gave him a small smile. "All the best!"

Then, he strode out of the sword formation picture.

The elder clad in a silver robe and the third-generation disciples standing outside the sword formation picture all looked at Ding Hao with the same strange expression.

The other young men who had been waiting for the final result also looked at Ding Hao with more warmth than before.

Everyone could tell that Ding Hao had been the most relaxed person in his group and could have easily carried on, but instead, he deliberately let the struggling young man come in first.

"Young master, thank you, thank you!" The several hunters approached Ding Hao and expressed their gratitude.

Among them was a middle-aged man of about forty who was probably Zhang Fan's father. His body was like an iron tower, his skin dark and covered with scars. As he spoke, he made to kneel to Ding Hao in gratitude.

Ding Hao quickly held him up.

...

The entrance exams were finally over with six hours to go before nightfall.

Close to 10,000 young men had participated in the day's entrance exams, but less than a thousand stood a chance of entering Swordsmanship-seeking Sect, which was a reflection of how grueling and cruel the entire process was.

Those who had been eliminated were allowed to spend the night at Swordsmanship-seeking Sect, but they would have to leave the following morning.

As for those who currently still had a chance to enter Swordsmanship-seeking Sect, the sect extended their hospitality and they were led to the guest lodgings.

The entrance exams continued on the second day.

As usual, there were many travel-worn young men who came from afar to take part in the entrance exam.

The same feelings of happiness and despair were seen on their faces on the second day.

The ranking list continued to be updated on Swordsmanship-seeking Sect's announcement board.

As time passed, the names on the list continued to change.

Ding Hao's ranking continued to drop. From his initial 10th place, he ranked 35th among 1,100 participants after the end of the second day's entrance exams.

The names of the top ten on the list remained covered with red paper. No one knew who they were.