Naked Sword Art

Xun Wei now, watching the arena… doubt set in.

Even if Chu Piao was known for getting out of sticky situations, Xun Wei couldn't guess how he could escape his current predicament.

Gao Fen was a skilled Profound Realm cultivator, and he was a swordless swordsman with his hands tied behind his back. No matter how Xun Wei saw it, this match was as good as over for him.

'A swordsman without a sword is just a…"

Then it happened—

In the middle of dodging another flurry of whip strikes, a loud crack echoed as one of Gao Fen's whips accidentally struck his waist—dislodging the scabbard at his waist. It snapped loose, spinning upward.

Everyone's eyes followed it. Gao Fen reacted instantly, her whip soaring toward it with perfect precision.

But Chu Piao was already gone.

In a blur, Chu Piao launched skyward—like a shadow piercing the heavens, swift and silent. Mid-ascent, the spinning sword suddenly stopped as Chu Piao's teeth clamped down on the hilt.

Gasps erupted from the stands.

The whip lashed out a heartbeat too late. With a tilt of his head, Chu Piao blocked the whip, allowing it to wrap tightly around the scabbard.

Then, with a twist of his body, he unsheathed the sword—no hands, no hesitation.

"Shit!" Gao Fen cursed, eyes wide.

But there was no time to adjust.

Descending like a falling star, Chu Piao faced the incoming tide of crimson serpents—thousands of them hissing, snapping, coiling toward him.

He had no way to avoid the incoming snakes, he was utterly trapped. Or so they all thought.

Suddenly a fierce look appeared in Chu Piao's eyes as Profound Sword Qi bursted from his body. Tightly biting the hilt of his sword, his neck veins bulged as he spun with a devastating furocity.

[ Divine Sword Cutting Sea ]

A savage downward slash tore through the illusions, the reinforced stage was cut as well. Although the cut was shallow, it was supposed to be strong enough to withstand Profound Realm techniques.

And in the next breath, Chu Piao spun violently, becoming a cyclone of steel and speed. The illusory snakes didn't just vanish—they were shredded, evaporated into Qi by the sheer force of his technique. Red mist scattered through the air, carried on a sudden shockwave that blew dust and robes across the stage.

He landed with the grace of a predator, knees bent, sword in his mouth, robes rippling in the aftermath.

A chill spread through the arena like a ripple in still water.

Gao Fen's breath hitched. Her advantage was gone.

"He's armed," someone whispered.

And somehow, now that he had a blade in his mouth and his hands still bound behind his back—he looked even more dangerous.

"Yes!" The Flowing Blade Elders said excitedly.

"The tiger bares his fangs."

"But can he really—"

Suddenly, Chu Piao flashed forward, a black blur streaking across the stage.

But Gao Fen wasn't one to fold.

With a sharp cry, she released everything in her arsenal—Illusory snakes, spiraling whips, sudden feints, and coiling traps meant to bind and confuse. The arena filled with streaks of red and flickers of shadow as her illusions danced and lashed in all directions.

But Chu Piao didn't dodge, he carved through them like smoke.

He charged straight into the profound realm techniques, cutting them down as they came. Like an unstoppable force, he charged straight for Gao Fen, and nothing was slowing him down.

"He can't be stopped!"

The crowd in the stands watched with clenched fists.

His blade—still clenched between his teeth—sliced effortlessly through each false strike, every trick unraveling in an instant. His movements were precise, brutal, and unnervingly calm, like a man walking through rain without getting wet.

Then—he was airborne again.

He spun like a living blade, rising above the final barrage of illusory serpents. The sword in his mouth began to shimmer with pure sword qi, a silent aura that crackled as it condensed around him.

Snap. Snap. Snap.

Three strikes—each one a blur of silver light—cut down the last of her conjured weapons. Gao Fen's whip dissolved mid-air, its illusions torn by his overwhelming technique.

Gao Fen backstepped in desperation, fingers twitching to summon another weapon, another trick—anything.

But he was already there.

A flash of silver. A gust of wind.

Blood.

She froze mid-step. Her eyes wide, her body unmoving—only the soft drop of her whip hitting the ground gave sound to the silence.

A razor-thin line of red traced across her collarbone. Chu Piao's head stopped neck to her waist, and his sword pressed at her neck, unmoving, held in place only by the pressure of his bite.

She opened her mouth to speak, but for a moment no sound came out. Then—softly, shamefully:

"I yield."

The arena was silent.

She fell to one knee, not from pain, but from the weight of defeat. Her head bowed, chest rising and falling with disbelief.

The fight was over.

And the blindfolded swordsman, hands still bound, stood victorious—his sword gleaming and unsullied.

The arena went dead silent.

From the stands, no one said a word. Even the Elders had nothing to offer. All the confidence, all the pride, had vanished.

One of their best had just lost.

And had his hands tied behind his back.

Chu Piao calmly spat his sword into the air, and as it flipped down, he caught it between his still-bound wrists—just as the binding faded into mist.

He turned his back on Gao Fen and walked off the stage without a word.

High on the balcony, Matriarch Shi Lan slowly rose to her feet.

Her sharp eyes shifted to Li Qin.

"…Can you beat him?"

A hush fell over the room.

Li Qin was an enigma. Even among the Inner Court's elites, no one truly knew the depth of her cultivation or the nature of her techniques. Had she not conceded her match to Li Lian before it even began, perhaps Yao Wu would have been the first to see her in action.

Now, every Elder turned to her, waiting for an answer.

She remained still, unfazed by Gao Fen's defeat. After all, she had bested Gao Fen herself with minimal effort. But her calm wasn't arrogance—it was calculation. Her gaze lingered on the arena, her expression unreadable.

Then, slowly, she closed her eyes and drew a quiet breath.

She understood what it would cost to win. She'd have to reveal her cards, lay bare the abilities she had kept hidden for years. In front of all these watching eyes... that price was steep.

When she finally spoke, her voice was quiet—but firm.

"I believe we should give the boy a chance."

Her gaze shifted to the back of the hall, where Xiao Fang stood like a shadow—silent, patient, waiting.