Having finished this chapter, I can’t keep my eyes open anymore. It’s already four in the morning; my vision is blurring from staring at the screen for so long, and my eyes ache terribly.

I’ll just close them for a bit and then power through again once I wake up. … The combat ring was a perfect square, spanning about ten thousand square meters, enclosed by wooden stakes like a makeshift courtyard.

Standing along the edge of the platform were numerous figures, most dressed in military uniforms, their bearing upright and spirits soaring, radiating full vitality. “Look, he’s here.” “That kid has some nerve, actually daring to show up.” “I wonder how much of Yun Shaojing’s true strength he can force out.” “He’ll probably be beaten to death the moment he steps onto the stage, haha…” As Ye Chen walked in from the distance, laughter erupted from many onlookers.

Those present to watch the duel held exceptionally high status, including over a hundred company commanders, generals from the General Corps, and high-ranking officials from other departments. Ye Chen maintained an impassive expression as he entered the arena and took his place in the center.

His figure stood tall and unyielding, the only sounds reaching his ears being the low murmurs and scornful laughter of the crowd. A flicker of isolation touched his heart as he tilted his head up, gazing at the vast, washed-clean blue sky on the distant horizon.

He took a deep breath. Slowly, he closed his eyes, and the world darkened.

Whoosh… The blood surging in his veins sounded like a spring rushing, drowning out the sounds of the outside world. Is a man’s blood cold, or is it boiling?

Just then… “Look, the Commander-in-Chief has arrived too.” “Holy hell, he actually managed to draw the Marshal out.” A sudden wave of gasps swept through the surroundings. Ye Chen opened his eyes, his deep pupils radiating a cold, merciless light.

Following the direction of the crowd’s gaze, he turned and saw a middle-aged man, perhaps around forty years old. His eyes were calm, like the deepest sea, and his tall, imposing frame was draped with an old-style military greatcoat, giving him an overwhelmingly martial presence.

Beside him walked a young woman in white, wearing light blue denim jeans that accentuated her graceful curves. Her face held a serene tranquility as she followed her father.

Facing the assembly of generals and commanders who lived on the edge of life and death, she showed no fear, maintaining a faint smile that felt like a spring breeze washing over everyone, instantly refreshing the eye. Behind the pair trailed two guards whose appearances were utterly unremarkable.

Scars marked their faces, and their eyes were filled with a cold detachment, like unfeeling animals. Silence descended upon the entire assembly as everyone stared in astonishment at Commander-in-Chief Murong De; no one had anticipated that this colossal figure would be stirred enough to attend this sparring match.

Ye Chen glanced over once, then withdrew his gaze. Murong De was indeed worthy of being an early founder of the base city; his aura was astonishing, and every movement he made exuded a terrifying field of influence, giving one the impression of unfathomable depth.

Murong De then approached the edge of the platform and cast a look upon Ye Chen standing in the center. Seeing the youth standing ramrod straight, like an unbending stalk of bamboo, a flicker of surprise crossed the Commander-in-Chief’s eyes.

He stared for a moment longer before turning away and taking a seat in the grand chair already prepared for him. His expression remained placid, offering no clue as to the thoughts churning within.

Murong Xue stood behind the great chair, watching Ye Chen’s back in the ring. A thread of worry laced her eyes.

Despite their brief acquaintance, she held a considerable fondness for Ye Chen. However, in such a grand setting, she knew her own limited strength could not halt the fight; she could only silently cheer him on.

“Is the Commander-in-Chief here to gauge Yun Shaojing’s strength?” “Possibly. Yun Shaojing is just too formidable.” The crowd began to murmur quietly among themselves.

The sun gradually climbed higher, casting its light below. “Why isn’t Yun Shaojing here yet?

It’s nearly ten-thirty.” “So much arrogance; is he deliberately delaying for the Commander-in-Chief’s benefit?” “Look, there he comes!” At one man’s loud exclamation, all heads turned. In the distance, a luxurious BMW sped toward them, pulling to a stop by the platform.

The door opened, and a dashing young man, clad in white leather armor, emerged. He then retrieved a great saber, nearly three feet long and wrapped in a white cloth, from the passenger seat.

“He actually drove here. So brazen!

Even the Commander-in-Chief didn’t drive.” “He’s probably doing it to show off for the Commander-in-Chief.” Amidst the chatter, Yun Shaojing offered a slight smile, glancing toward Murong De not far away. Seeing the Commander-in-Chief’s expression remain calm and unperturbed, Yun Shaojing’s brow furrowed slightly.

He then shifted his gaze to Murong Xue, who stood gracefully behind her father, his eyes reflecting a hint of burning desire. After a quick look, Yun Shaojing withdrew his gaze and walked toward the ring.

His demeanor was self-assured, and he offered a polite smile: “My apologies for the delay.” Given his mindset, he wouldn't normally waste words on Ye Chen, but under the scrutiny of the assembled crowd, he felt compelled to maintain a façade of proper conduct, especially with Commander-in-Chief Murong De and his daughter nearby. “It’s good that you know,” Ye Chen replied with detached indifference.

The surrounding spectators nearly spat blood. You’re given an inch and you take a mile; not even a polite response.

Yun Shaojing’s smile froze momentarily but quickly recovered. He chuckled, “In that case, let’s not waste any more time.

Shall we begin?” “That suits me perfectly,” Ye Chen nodded. Yun Shaojing curled his fingers slightly, a smile playing on his lips even as his eyes turned bone-chillingly cold.

He took a few steps back and made a gesture of invitation, appearing every bit the courteous gentleman. “You don’t have a weapon?” Yun Shaojing suddenly noticed that Ye Chen carried no cold steel.

The rules of the dueling ring strictly permitted only cold weapons; technological weaponry was forbidden. “Against you, a weapon is unnecessary,” Ye Chen stated honestly.

Indeed, given the sharpness of his Blood-Red War Saber, it could cleave the body of an 800-level monster. Using it against Yun Shaojing, who was only around level fifty, would be an overwhelming mismatch—like using a butcher’s cleaver to dispatch a chicken.

Furthermore, the Blood-Red Saber was too conspicuous; deploying it would instantly reveal its extraordinary nature, making it easy for others to notice. Yun Shaojing’s mouth twitched slightly.

Even with his refined composure, a spike of anger flared within. He took a deep breath before saying, “Good, very good.” Bang!

He tossed his own saber aside, his gaze fixed on Ye Chen with frigid intensity. “Make your move.

I will show you what a true gap in power is.” Ye Chen nodded. Yun Shaojing waited a moment, but when Ye Chen didn't advance, he demanded in a tone of frustration, “What are you doing?” Ye Chen looked puzzled.

“I’m waiting for you to attack. Why aren’t you moving?” Yun Shaojing almost choked.

Typically, the weaker party initiates the attack. Given his status, launching an assault first against a ranking general would be a serious blow to his prestige.

If they were alone, he wouldn’t hesitate to strike first, but with countless eyes watching, he needed to maintain appearances. “Hurry up,” Ye Chen urged.

He had his reasons for not attacking. In terms of physical constitution, he was only level 43, slightly lower than Yun Shaojing.

Attacking first would make it nearly impossible to track the opponent’s movements, putting him at a severe disadvantage. His true edge lay in sheer kinetic force.

By remaining still, I will adapt to all change. “I will make you die!

You must die!” Yun Shaojing roared internally, his expression contorted with savage intensity. His figure blurred as he charged toward Ye Chen, resembling a gust of wind so powerful it caused the blades of grass on the ground to bend low.

“How terrifying!” “Is this Yun Shaojing’s true power?” “He’s too fast!” Exclamations erupted from the spectators. Especially among the high-ranking generals, many watched in horror, realizing they could barely track Yun Shaojing’s movements.

Even straining their eyes to the limit, they could only catch fleeting afterimages—a testament to the gulf separating them. Murong De, seated on the grand chair, watched Yun Shaojing’s sudden burst of speed.

His expression remained outwardly unchanged, yet his pupils contracted infinitesimally, showing a trace of shock. “Level 60?

He actually reached Level 60!” Super Evolvers were expected to reach a physical level of only 45 by the third month, yet Yun Shaojing had propelled himself to Level 60—comparable to a standard Mutated Evolver. Swish!

Yun Shaojing’s form seemed to teleport, arriving directly before Ye Chen. His punch, thrown with the full force of his body, aimed squarely at Ye Chen’s nose—a clear intent to deliver a fatal blow.

“Die!” Yun Shaojing bellowed. Ye Chen’s eyes turned icy cold.

He clenched his own fist, the muscles in his arm bulging. His originally slender arm abruptly swelled by three times its size, veins mapping a hideous network across the surface.

His right foot stepped forward, crushing the earth beneath him, sending fragments of stone exploding outward and carving a deep depression into the ground. His entire presence surged upward, the surging kinetic energy within his body concentrating entirely into his fist, which he launched in a direct, bone-jarring collision.