Chapter 71 – Dance of Blades
The platform hummed with power again, swirling with faint motes of elemental essence. Jin stood at the edge, staring across the stage as a new figure appeared on the opposite end.
Ravon.
Golden-haired, tall, and wrapped in robes of silver-trimmed navy, the third-ranked cultivator on the leaderboard exuded a calm, surgical focus. He hailed from the Celestial Blade Hall, a sect infamous for raising swordmasters who honed their techniques with religious fervor. Ravon's blade was already drawn, its edge faintly glowing with sword intent.
Jin didn't need to guess—this opponent would be nothing like Raen.
He heard the voice of the realm again:
"Match begin."
There was no warning.
Ravon blurred forward—no elemental surge, no flashy buildup, just terrifying speed. His blade struck with a flicker of pure sword qi, so sharp the air itself split with a whisper.
Jin parried just in time.
Clang!
Sparks burst where their blades met. Jin's feet slid across the platform as he absorbed the force. Ravon had no elemental signature—no fire, lightning, wind or ice. Only sword.
But each stroke radiated killing intent so refined it felt like standing in the eye of a storm.
Jin retaliated, his sword sweeping in a wide arc—fire flaring with each strike. The flames hissed as they met Ravon's condensed sword aura. Again and again they exchanged, their blades weaving in patterns too quick for the untrained eye.
The audience in the waiting area could only see flashes—one moment Ravon lunged with a silver thrust, the next Jin countered with a spiraling flame and vanished into the ground using his earth essence, reappearing behind Ravon with a surprise slash.
But Ravon twisted mid-air, parrying without looking.
Their swords clashed again.
This time, Ravon pushed back, skidding a few steps before stopping. His eyes narrowed.
"You're not just a fire user."
Jin didn't reply.
Ravon adjusted his stance. "You're the one who beat Kaelun. And Raen. That means you're not relying on just your elements. You understand the sword."
Jin shifted slightly, letting his stance settle into a more grounded posture. "And you're not just a swordmaster. You've suppressed your cultivation presence to hide your true strength."
Ravon's lip twitched—just slightly.
"Very well. Let's stop testing each other."
The temperature dropped—not from cold, but from the sheer sharpness that filled the space between them. It was like being inside a smith's forge where the heat was not from fire, but from the edge of a blade poised to strike.
Then Ravon moved again.
This time, he used a technique.
His sword blurred into six slashes at once—each tracing an arc of condensed sword qi. Jin could sense that the technique wasn't based on speed, but on control. Each slash flowed from a different angle, bending toward him like a web of inevitable death.
"He's not using elements," Jin realized, "but his intent alone shapes reality."
Jin stepped into his fire-step technique, vanishing into a burst of heat. He reappeared mid-air, sword wreathed in fire and earth essence. He swung down.
Boom!
The clash shook the platform. One of Ravon's afterimages shattered, revealing he had only been standing behind a projection.
Jin's eyes widened a fraction too late.
A real strike sliced toward his ribs.
He turned, barely deflecting—but the force knocked him off-balance.
Blood spilled from a shallow cut on his side.
"You're fast," Ravon said calmly, "but I've honed my sword for eighteen years against phantom puppets designed to kill. Your instincts are good. But not perfect."
Jin exhaled sharply.
So this was the level of the Celestial Blade Hall.
He reached out—and Gorr appeared beside him with a spatial pulse. The beast snarled and charged toward Ravon with no hesitation, claws slicing through the air like hammers.
But Ravon didn't even blink.
With a subtle shift of stance, his blade curved—just once.
Gorr was knocked aside, bleeding from a deep cut across the shoulder.
Jin frowned. Even Gorr's speed hadn't been enough.
No. Ravon didn't fight with speed. He fought with anticipation—the purest form of swordsmanship.
Jin narrowed his eyes and lowered his stance again. If fire and earth weren't enough…
He inhaled deeply. Let the other elements rush forward. Water. Wind. Not to power his attacks—but to control his flow, refine his rhythm, adapt.
His eyes sharpened.
This time, he didn't wait.
He burst forward with wind essence guiding his feet and fire propelling his momentum. His blade danced—sweeping arcs mixed with feints and steps, movements guided by intuition instead of fixed forms.
Ravon met each strike.
But something had changed.
Jin wasn't fighting Ravon's rhythm anymore. He was creating his own—unpredictable, weaving fire and wind like a chaotic symphony. His movements flowed, elemental pulses timed perfectly to bait, confuse, then counter.
For the first time, Ravon had to retreat a step.
Jin pressed in. His sword flickered with a water-blade feint—sharp, clean, unnatural. Ravon parried, but Jin dropped low and slammed his palm into the platform.
Pillars of rock erupted beneath Ravon's feet.
Ravon leapt back mid-air, blade spinning to deflect debris—but that gave Jin the opening.
He appeared behind him, blade glowing with a rare fusion of fire and wind.
A sweeping strike roared forward—
Only for Ravon to pivot, his blade drawn in a full circle defense. The clash exploded in a shockwave that cracked the stage.
Both combatants were flung apart.
Jin landed in a crouch, gasping. Blood ran down his temple.
Ravon rose slowly, the first dent visible on his shoulder guard. He nodded once.
"You've surpassed what I expected."
Jin stood again, gripping his sword tightly. His heart pounded. His body screamed. But his mind…
Was calm.
Ravon's gaze burned now, no longer cold.
"I will use my final technique."
Jin took a deep breath.
"So will I."
Ravon raised his sword. "Third Style—Celestial Execution."
Jin raised his, essence coiling around him. "Heaven-Splitting Arc—Form Seven."
The two techniques exploded forth at once.
Ravon's sword became light—a blinding arc of celestial force, forged from will and sword intent so dense it cut through the air itself like divine judgment.
Jin's blade surged with every element—fire, earth, wind, water—merged into one devastating arc that spiraled like a collapsing star.
The clash detonated mid-field.
Blinding light. Roaring heat. A wave of force flattened the platform edges. The sky above cracked with illusory fractures.
When the dust settled—
Both cultivators were on one knee, swords planted into the stone.
Ravon looked up, coughing blood. His blade was snapped at the edge.
Jin's sword trembled—but remained whole.
"I yield" Ravin said, but Jin already placed a time based array that will kill Ravon with time, the longer the array stayed in Ravon body, the more it will integrate with his life force, it was a cruel way to kill. But Jin used all four elements and couldn't risk it getting out.
"Victory: Jin."
The realm's voice echoed across the sky again.
Jin exhaled. He looked across the battlefield—where Ravon had fallen to one knee, not out of weakness, but in acceptance. Not knowing the doom approaching
"I'll surpass you someday," Ravon said quietly.
Jin sighed with regret. "I hope we meet again." Ravon ft something was off with those words, but couldn't find anything after searching himself, he was soon teleported to the waiting area too along with the other cultivators who yielded awaiting the end of the tournament.
Then he turned and walked toward the edge, where the projection screen flickered—revealing the ongoing battles.
Thorne.
Vael.
Jin sat, body aching, but soul burning.
The tower hadn't broken him yet.
And the peak was just within reach.