Supreme Emperor of Swords

Below the arena, Wang Xiaoqi and the other teens beside him started to cheer loudly.

They had already formed a group with Zhuo Yifeng as their leader. They naturally had to scream as loud as they could to boost the morale of their leader.

The cynical teacher-in-charge, Wang Juefeng glanced at Ding Hao, and a playful and amused look flashed in the depths of his eyes. Then, he shrugged at Zhuo Yifeng and indicated for the others to move away, leaving behind the arena to Ding Hao and Zhuo Yifeng.

The martial arts competition began.

"Rascal, just concede. Otherwise, if we really fight, I might accidentally hurt you." Zhuo Yifeng strode to the middle of the arena and planted himself there. He laughed coldly, looking down at Ding Hao.

He ranked 107 on the overall rankings, which was below Ding Hao. However, he had always felt that the overall rankings of the sect entrance examination did not befit his true abilities. Only by entering the top 50 of the overall rankings would he show his true capabilities. As such, he had always thought he was better than the others.

Ding Hao pulled out his rusted sword from his back expressionlessly.

After becoming a disciple on the waiting list, the Swordsmanship-seeking Sect had given every disciple weapons and clothing. The steel long sword that the sect had given him was of good quality and was made by an experienced craftsman in the sect's forge. It could not be bought with money.

But Ding Hao did not know why he felt that he could not wield the steel long sword given to him by the sect as smoothly as the rusted sword he had pulled out from the rubbish pile. As such, he had never changed weapon.

The rusted sword had specks of rust on it and rusted lines that looked as if it might break any time. It looked terrible as if it were a useless stove poker.

Ding Hao pulled out the rusted sword, causing a wave of spiteful jeers and ridicule.

Wang Xiaoqi and his group, especially, fanned the flames, and jeered and laughed at him.

"You dare to come out and fight with just a lousy sword? To be honest, I feel embarrassed about having to fight with you. I wonder how you ranked 100th." Zhuo Yifeng stood in the middle of the stage carelessly and said with a cold laugh, "You can make the first move. I shall let you have the first three moves so our senior and younger brothers won't say that I'm bullying the weak."

Ding Hao did not say anything more. He nodded his head seriously and answered, "Alright."

And then-

"Whoosh!"

A burst of red light erupted from Ding Hao's hands.

He used the "Stunning Steps" footwork and his rusted sword moved like lightning, shooting a ray of sword light.

This was the first move of the "Rapid-Cross Sword" suite. The sword moved straight and intentionally without any extra moves.

But in Ding Hao's hands, it looked mesmerizing. From stillness to motion, it happened in the speed of lightning and was almost imperceptible.

Zhuo Yifeng was stunned.

The arrogant smile on his face had not had the time to disappear yet. In the moment of incredulity, he barely had the time to raise the long sword in his hand to defend himself.

Clang!

A clash rang, the vibrations causing everyone's ears to ring.

In the next moment, Zhuo Yifeng felt as if he was being attacked by an enormous hammer. The quick and indomitable strength pounded heavily on his sword and traveled down it. His hands, which gripped the sword felt an enormous force and lost all its sense.

Bang!

The smile on his face froze. Zhuo Yifeng, along with his sword, fell heavily on the stone seats below the arena like a paper kite of which the strings had broken.

The hustle and bustle in the hall suddenly rang with gasps.

Powerful!

Too powerful!

It was inconceivably powerful!

He had been defeated by just a stroke within a second!

The whole process happened so quickly that some people could not even react. Wang Xiaoqi and the others standing below the arena were still smiling. The battle ended in the blink of an eye before they could understand what happened.

Zhuo Yifeng became a laughing stock.

He had tooted his own horn two days earlier, claiming that his abilities were within the top ten of the Eastern Academy of green shirts.

But before Ding Hao, he was extremely weak...

Ding Hao stood in the middle of the arena firmly like a mountain. All the teenagers looked at Ding Hao in surprise and fear. Could this stroke be the true capabilities of a person in the first hundred of the overall rankings?

The rusted sword that looked as if it was a stove poker was like an extremely powerful weapon in his hands.

No one else dared to mock Ding Hao's weapon.

Terrifying!

The jaws of Wang Xiaoqi and the others almost dropped to the ground when they finally could react to what happened.

The mocking smiles on their faces had long disappeared. Their mouths were opened so widely that one could stuff a large goose egg into them. Their eyes opened widely with incredulity as they stood on the spot as if they had been petrified.

"That was a sneak attack... you're despicable!"

Zhuo Yifeng, who had mud all over his face and body climbed up from the ground. His face was red as he yelled angrily.

It was obvious that he could not accept the fact that Ding Hao had easily defeated him with just a stroke of his sword.

To him, Ding Hao had despicably used a method to move quickly and had attacked him sneakily. If they had a true battle, he would not have lost so tragically.

He, however, had forgotten who had stood in the middle of the arena and proclaimed loudly that he would allow Ding Hao the first three strokes.

"Again, I cannot accept this. I want to fight you again..." With that, Zhuo Yifeng was about to jump onto the arena once more.

"There's no need." The cynical Wang Juefeng's bearded face had an evil smile on it as he suddenly stood up and waved his hand. A sudden wave of power stopped Zhuo Yifeng. He shook his head and said, "Forget it, don't embarrass yourself here anymore. You rascal are not Ding Hao's match."

"That's impossible, that was a sneak attack he made earlier..." Zhuo Yifeng was incensed.

"You won't give up until you're dead, rascal. Look down at your chest." The cynical bearded man mocked.

Zhuo Yifeng was startled. He looked down and his expression suddenly changed. His face grew pale.

He did not know when the tight green robe on his chest had been cut open in a cross, revealing his white inner shirt. This cross-shaped rip was right over his heart. It was evident that Ding Hao had cut it during their fight earlier, using an extremely fast sword stroke that was beyond the range of their sight.

Zhuo Yifeng had not even sensed that he had been cut by the sword at all.

If Ding Hao had used even the slightest bit more strength, then it would not just be Zhuo Yifeng's green robes that were cut, but his heart.

Cold sweat suddenly erupted profusely from Zhuo Yifeng's forehead and back.

"I... I... I lost." Zhuo Yifeng lowered his head, pale-faced. He had no choice but to admit his defeat.

Moments later, he raised his head again, his expression had calmed down gradually. He stared at Ding Hao and said seriously, "I have nothing to say regarding my defeat today. You are stronger than me. But this is just the beginning. One day, I will become stronger and will stand on the arena and challenge you."

Then, he made a gesture of admitting defeat before returning to his seat and sat down.

Ding Hao nodded and said, "Alright, I'll wait for you."

The fellow had been arrogant and at the beginning, had said that he would let Ding Hao have the first three moves. When he lost, he said that Ding Hao had made a sneak attack. Everyone already thought of him as a classless fellow. However, in the end, Zhuo Yifeng had managed to rapidly adjust his thoughts and accepted defeat calmly, yet retaining his will to fight. The impression Ding Hao and the other teens in the hall had of Zhuo Yifeng raised a few notches after that.