Chapter 165: I Am Lu Ye!

Lu Ye unexpectedly changed his usual approach, launching an offensive attack. This surprised everyone and led to considerable speculation among the cultivators of Myriad Demon Ridge, who wondered if his broken spirit weapon had instilled in him a death wish.

In a flash, the two combatants engaged, their spirit weapons clashing repeatedly with loud clangor.

Hu Ping, also a soldier-cultivator, wielded a saber. However, unlike Lu Ye's, his blade was significantly wider and shorter, resembling a traditional cleaver.

As a disciple hailing from a third-rank sect, Hu Ping possessed considerable strength. While he hadn't achieved the feat of defeating opponents beyond his cultivation level, few cultivators at his own stage could stand against him.

When he executed his broad, sweeping saber techniques, he exuded an imposing aura, like a fierce wind scattering fallen leaves. If Lu Ye's blade was characterized by its sharpness and aggression, Hu Ping's was pure ferocity and raw power.

Yet, upon engaging Lu Ye, a fifth-level cultivator, Hu Ping was horrified to find his saber techniques completely stifled. Though Lu Ye's spirit weapon was indeed broken, its wielder's speed and raw power were utterly beyond Hu Ping's ability to counter.

After only a few exchanges, he struggled to parry the opponent's relentless assault. He was forced to retreat continuously, the web of skin between his thumb and forefinger starting to split. It felt as if he were fighting not a fifth-level cultivator, but a bloodthirsty beast radiating raw power.

The pressure was overwhelming!

With a loud clang, Hu Ping recoiled, his spirit weapon nearly slipping from his grasp. He tried to steady himself, but his foot unexpectedly slid.

Far too many had perished in this arena, their blood dyeing the entire Golden Light Peak a crimson red. Hu Ping, fighting here for the first time, was caught off guard by the slick surface.

A flash of brilliant saber light streaked forth. Hu Ping forcibly regained his footing, attempting to block with his saber, but the incoming blade bypassed his spirit weapon entirely, slashing down viciously.

It was too late to block. With extensive experience in life-or-death battles, Hu Ping steeled himself and delivered a ruthless slash towards Lu Ye's neck.

Only ten breaths into the fight, the two combatants were already locked in a life-or-death struggle, eliciting gasps of astonishment from the spectators.

There was no panic in Hu Ping's eyes. He knew Lu Ye's broken saber couldn't truly harm him; although the opponent's spirit weapon was of excellent quality, its snapped blade meant it couldn't unleash its full power, thus posing little threat.

His own saber strike, however, was different. Aimed at Lu Ye's neck, it could decide the outcome if his opponent didn't activate a defensive spirit pattern.

As expected, when his spirit weapon struck Lu Ye's neck, a spirit pattern there blocked the impact. He did not withdraw his blade, instead maintaining pressure to deplete his opponent's spiritual power.

However, a sharp pain in his chest startled him, and blood spurted out. Hu Ping immediately disregarded everything else, using the force of the impact to quickly leap backward.

Looking down, he saw a foot-long gash across his chest, and his close-fitting treasure armor had been completely severed, devoid of any spiritual glow!

Hu Ping's scalp instantly prickled; he couldn't comprehend what had just happened.

He had dared to meet Lu Ye's strike head-on for two reasons: first, Lu Ye's spirit weapon was broken, severely reducing its power; second, he was protected by his treasure armor. Though not top-tier, this armor had provided sufficient defense to get him out of several dangerous situations in the past.

This time, however, his treasure armor had been completely pierced, offering no protection whatsoever.

His opponent's spirit weapon was broken, wasn't it? How could it still be so sharp?

A whirlwind of thoughts churned in his mind, but there was no time to process them. Lu Ye had already closed the distance, exploiting his momentary distraction to thrust his saber forward.

Fiery red spiritual power clung to the truncated long saber, imbuing it with irresistible force. Hu Ping roared and raised his saber to block.

The clanging resumed as the two exchanged countless blows in an instant. However, because Hu Ping had been mentally unprepared earlier, he was now completely suppressed. He felt his opponent's offense was not only sharp but also ceaseless.

A dozen breaths later, Hu Ping suddenly froze in place, his broadsword raised high but unable to strike down. He looked down at his chest, his eyes wide with horror.

Through the damaged section of his treasure armor, the broken saber had effortlessly pierced into his chest.

Close up, their eyes met. Lu Ye gazed at his opponent, his expression calm, and declared, "My name is Lu Ye! Lu Ye of the Jade Blood Sect!"

With a powerful kick, Hu Ping was sent flying a considerable distance, collapsing motionless on the ground.

Lu Ye gasped for air, dragging his unsteady feet back to his previous spot. He sat down cross-legged, popped a spiritual pill into his mouth, and lowered his head.

Silence still enveloped Golden Light Peak.

After a prolonged silence, Hu Ping's senior brother stepped forward to inspect him, confirming that Hu Ping was beyond any doubt dead.

Whispers began to ripple through the crowd, steadily growing into a clamor.

Hu Ping had been defeated too! He was killed in a battle where Myriad Demon Ridge had seemed on the verge of claiming victory.

This battle was intended by Myriad Demon Ridge to conclude the conflict. Everyone had believed that Lu Ye, with his broken spirit weapon, would be no match for Hu Ping.

Yet, Hu Ping died after sustaining only two blows from Lu Ye.

Lu Ye also took two slashes from Hu Ping, but both were neutralized by his defensive spirit patterns.

Some cultivators had already discerned the issue: Lu Ye's spirit weapon, though broken, appeared to retain its full power.

Zi An, the Myriad Demon Ridge cultivator, wore a grim expression, his face slightly pale. He secretly thanked his luck that Lu Ye had chosen Hu Ping, realizing it could have been him who fell in this fight.

Everyone had thought Lu Ye's fangs were broken, but who would have imagined that even broken, those fangs remained irresistibly sharp!

Gazing at the figure sitting quietly, head bowed as if on the verge of collapse, Zi An exhaled softly.

Although Hu Ping's death was a setback, it didn't significantly impact Zi An personally. The next battle was his. If he lost, only the Sacred Fire Sect members would remain, and that individual was weaker than both him and Hu Ping, offering even less hope.

Therefore, he absolutely could not lose this battle!

To win, he couldn't afford to be struck by that spirit weapon; its destructive power was too horrifying. Yet, as a soldier-cultivator, close-quarters combat made it impossible to avoid such exchanges.

He found himself in a dilemma!

Before he could devise a strategy, someone from Myriad Demon Ridge called out, "Time's up!"

Li Baxian shot a fierce glare in their direction!

The incense stick, lit when Lu Ye began his rest, flickered out. Lu Ye, who had been napping with his head bowed, slowly lifted it. Under the gaze of thousands of eyes, he once again rose, leaning on his broken saber, his body swaying and his steps uncertain.

The Myriad Demon Ridge cultivators watched, their eyelids twitching. Lu Ye appeared as if he could collapse at any moment, yet experience showed that the moment he engaged in combat, he transformed into a fierce and powerful warrior.

Had they not witnessed him fight over forty battles consecutively, they might have believed he was merely putting on a show.

No one could comprehend what unwavering belief and sheer will sustained this mere fifth-level cultivator, allowing him to stand unbeaten on the blood-soaked arena.

Zi An stepped forward, and as per custom, both combatants announced their names and affiliations.

Lu Ye's ears buzzed, a symptom of extreme energy depletion. He didn't fully catch what his opponent said, but it was irrelevant; his senior sister would remember.

*Boom...*

The instant spiritual power erupted, both figures charged at each other. This Myriad Demon Ridge cultivator was not deterred by Lu Ye's terrifying record; he didn't even adopt a defensive posture. Instead, he actively engaged, for as fellow soldier-cultivators, they both understood that offense was the best defense.

The clash of spirit weapons filled the air as the two figures weaved and dodged across the arena, sparks flying with every impact.

Every cultivator from Myriad Demon Ridge held their breath, their hearts pounding. They knew that another loss would mean the end of their chances. Though one member of the Sacred Fire Sect remained, that individual's strength was inferior to both Hu Ping's and Zi An's; facing Lu Ye would undoubtedly lead to their demise.

Three breaths, five breaths, ten breaths, twenty breaths, fifty breaths passed...

The Myriad Demon Ridge cultivators, who had been anxiously tracking the fight, finally exhaled. The battle had stabilized!

They all silently praised him. "As expected of a disciple from a second-rank sect, his foundation is indeed more profound than others'," they thought. "None of the previous challengers had managed to engage Lu Ye in a head-on confrontation for so long without showing signs of weakening."

While some had indeed endured for extended periods against Lu Ye, they had done so by fleeing and solely focusing on depleting his spiritual power to pave the way for subsequent challengers. This was the first opponent to directly confront Lu Ye for such a long duration.

Such strength clearly demonstrated the ability to fight against higher-ranked opponents.

As the fight progressed, Lu Ye grew increasingly lucid. Although his ears still buzzed and his vision occasionally blurred, the pressure emanating from his opponent signaled that this was an adversary whose strength and speed were in no way inferior to his own.

Against such an opponent, a swift victory was his only option.

Lu Ye was acutely aware of his condition; his spiritual power was dwindling. If the fight continued like this, he would inevitably collapse first. Once his spiritual energy was depleted and his opponent remained, he would be left with no choice but to await death.

With this realization, facing an incoming strike from his opponent, he neither blocked nor dodged. Instead, he launched a forceful counter-slash.

This strike startled the Myriad Demon Ridge cultivator. Lu Ye might dare to take his blow, but he dared not take one from Lu Ye. So many previous deaths had proven a crucial truth: the spirit weapon in Lu Ye's hand was impossibly powerful, far beyond what any low-level cultivator should possess.

He hastily dodged aside.

His rhythm was instantly broken. While he had previously traded blows with Lu Ye on equal footing, the moment he switched to defense, he lost his initial sharpness, becoming hesitant and constrained.

As one retreated and the other advanced, Lu Ye unleashed seven or eight consecutive slashes. Though not all were perfectly executed, the tide of battle had begun to turn. Visually, Lu Ye gradually gained the upper hand, slowly overwhelming his opponent.

The opponent clearly understood this was unsustainable. Just as he pondered a countermeasure, a sharp *crack* echoed, and his hand suddenly felt lighter.

He looked up, his soul nearly leaping from his body: his own spirit weapon had been severed!

Despite fighting over forty battles, Lu Ye had never severed an enemy's spirit weapon before, save for his own long saber which the Myriad Demon Ridge had deliberately broken.

While the "Sharpness" spirit pattern was indeed potent, spirit weapons themselves were remarkably sturdy. Previous opponents were either swiftly cut down or avoided direct confrontation, denying him this opportunity.

This opponent, however, was different. Their earlier exchanges had involved constant clashing of spirit weapons! Even if Lu Ye didn't activate the "Sharpness" spirit pattern every single time, the spirit weapon in his opponent's hand simply couldn't withstand the repeated impacts.

The long saber descended with a fluid motion, bringing forth a spray of blood!