A flurry of sword shadows danced across the martial arts platform. This sword was a divine weapon, far more potent than the wooden or iron swords he had previously used. Zhang Yang’s initial advance was instantly halted, forcing him into a desperate flurry of evasions, each move fraught with peril.

The advantage he had just carved out vanished. A fierce anger burned within Zhang Yang, yet he maintained his composure, desperately seeking a way to break through Huyan Peng's offense.

"Despicable! Shameless!"

Seeing that his shouts elicited no response, Long Feng grit his teeth, unsure if he was cursing Huyan Peng on the stage or those spectators deliberately keeping their eyes closed.

He cursed on, yet everything happening on the stage remained beyond his control.

He desperately wanted to rush down and help Zhang Yang, but he understood that if he intervened, the Huyan family members would inevitably send reinforcements. If the Huyan family dared to reinforce, the Long family would certainly not allow themselves to be slighted and would also send aid. This could easily escalate the match into a chaotic brawl, perhaps even leading others to conspire against Zhang Yang within the melee.

This possibility was not remote; their current attitudes were telling enough.

This realization kept him from making any rash moves. After all, more than one elder from the Huyan family was present, and any ill-timed intervention could only harm Zhang Yang.

The impulsive Long Feng of moments ago was gone.

His eyes darted around, and then, with a sudden burst of speed, Long Feng broke away and swiftly departed.

Long Cheng, seated nearby, was consumed by anxiety. If even Long Feng could offer no assistance, he was even more useless; he could only sit there, fretting uselessly.

"Nonsense! This is simply bullying!"

Long Feng was not the only one who couldn't bear to watch. Long Zheng, who had been standing below the stage, suddenly leaped up, a length of chain appearing in his hand.

With two sharp snaps, Long Zheng's chain managed to block a strike for Zhang Yang, finally allowing him to escape the blinding sword shadows cast by Huyan Peng.

Huyan Peng specialized in swordsmanship; his skill with the blade far surpassed his skill with his palms. By deploying a weapon, he had entirely nullified the advantage Zhang Yang had just gained.

Had Long Zheng not intervened at that moment, Zhang Yang would have needed considerable effort to turn the tide.

"Long Zheng. What is the meaning of this?"

Huyan Peng paused his assault, stunned, and shouted the question loudly.

He wasn't a fool. Even with a weapon, facing two opponents of equal standing was dangerous. If Zhang Yang and Long Zheng truly joined forces, Huyan Peng would be the one in peril.

As he shouted, the other two mid-Third Realm elders accompanying the Huyan family also rose, their stances suggesting they were ready to enter the fray at any moment.

The Huyan family elder who had been keeping his eyes closed briefly cracked them open, then immediately sealed them shut again.

"You are having a competition. Zhang Yang isn't using a weapon, so on what grounds are you using one?"

Long Zheng shot him a cold glance, tinged with indignation. Long Zheng’s temperament matched his name—exceptionally straightforward. When confronted with injustice, he couldn't help but intervene.

"Long Zheng, you need to realize this is a fight to the death, not some sparring match. As long as I achieve victory, I can use any means necessary!"

Huyan Peng glared at Long Zheng, speaking each word deliberately. Long Zheng was momentarily taken aback by his response.

A fight to the death. Huyan Peng didn't seem wrong; they had agreed beforehand that life and death were irrelevant. In a true battle for survival, insisting on rules about weaponry seemed rather absurd.

However, Zhang Yang was allied with the Long family, and he had stepped forward specifically to restore the Long family’s honor. No matter what, Long Zheng could not stand by and watch Huyan Peng bully Zhang Yang like this.

"Zhang Yang, your swords!"

Long Feng returned in a rush, as swift as the wind. He ran directly to the base of the stage and handed Zhang Yang his weapons.

Zhang Yang hadn't brought his weapons to watch the event today; the Dragon Devouring Dagger and the Cold Spring Sword were safely guarded by his three spirit beasts at their residence, so he wasn't worried about theft. Only Long Feng could have retrieved those two weapons and brought them back with such ease.

It wasn't just Long Feng who had returned; Zhang Yang's three great spirit beasts were also present, though they were wise enough to keep their distance, knowing many masters were gathered here. With the speed of the wind-chaser, covering that distance was merely the blink of an eye.

"Thanks, Long Feng!"

Taking possession of his two weapons, Zhang Yang let out a loud, unrestrained laugh. The suffocating frustration of being chased by Huyan Peng's weapon vanished instantly. A nascent killing intent began to stir deep within Zhang Yang’s heart.

This Huyan Peng disregarded his status and shamelessly used a weapon first against him. A man so utterly lacking in dignity could also be the most terrifying kind. Since enmity had been established, failing to resolve this thoroughly might bring danger and trouble to those around him later.

Zhang Yang sought to demonstrate his strength, to make people remember the lineage of the Medical Sage once more. There were many ways to achieve this goal, and killing was certainly one of them.

Huyan Peng felt an involuntary tremor run through him as he looked into Zhang Yang's icy gaze.

A sense of dread bloomed in his heart, leaving him utterly aghast—and slightly regretful. He regretted provoking Zhang Yang, and more so, he regretted not striking harder earlier, even at the cost of injury, to slay Zhang Yang with his sword. Now that Zhang Yang had his weapons, such an opportunity would be much harder to find.

"You two, continue!"

Seeing that Zhang Yang had retrieved his weapons, Long Zheng chuckled and stepped down from the stage.

His intervention had bought Zhang Yang precious time and allowed him to recover his arms with surprising ease. Had Huyan Peng tried to stop him just then, retrieval might not have been so simple.

Zhang Yang offered Long Zheng a brief, grateful look before immediately turning his focus back to the stage.

His eyes were now colder still.

Zhang Yang tucked the Dragon Devouring Dagger close to his body. While a divine weapon, the dagger was too short, and being a replica, its power was far inferior to the Cold Spring Sword in his hand.

The sword techniques Zhang Yang had painstakingly practiced now had a worthy outlet, and this peerless divine blade finally had the chance to display its true magnificence.

"Clang!"

The moment Long Zheng stepped down, Huyan Peng aggressively launched his attack. Zhang Yang's Cold Spring Sword shot out, meeting Huyan Peng's longsword in a head-on collision.

The clash of the two blades rang out clearly, both men channeling their internal energy into the weapons. The impact forced both of them back a single step.

"What kind of sword is that?"

Huyan Peng remained stationary, halting his offense, and asked in astonishment. In that brief exchange, he distinctly felt that the internal energy imbued in Zhang Yang's blade was deeper and more profound. Furthermore, the sword radiated a chill that even affected him. This told him Zhang Yang's divine weapon was absolutely no ordinary item—it might even be superior to his own.

"Cold Spring Sword!"

He uttered the three words softly, then his body flickered suddenly. Two Zhang Yangs appeared on the platform—one the real body, the other a mere afterimage.

With weapons back in hand, the initiative had decisively shifted to Zhang Yang. However, upon hearing the name of the sword, Li Liang and several elders from other families all stood up.

The Cold Spring Sword—it was a legendary blade from the Divine Weapon Rankings, specifically ranked ninth, and counted as one of the three finest swords in the entire world.

Among the Ten Great Divine Weapons, only three were swords: the first-ranked God-Subduing Sword, the fourth-ranked Demon-Slaying Sword, and the ninth-ranked Cold Spring Sword. The God-Subduing Sword and the Demon-Slaying Sword had long been lost to history, and the Cold Spring Sword had also vanished without a trace. Many believed these three peerless divine swords would fade into legend, never to reappear before the eyes of men.

The Li family had mourned this fact for a long time. As a family specializing in sword cultivation, these divine swords would have benefited them the most. Yet, among their collection of famed blades, not a single item from the Divine Weapon Rankings was present, leaving them completely shut out from these three supreme swords.

"Clang, clang, clang!"

Sharp sounds echoed continuously. Zhang Yang’s speed increased even further than before. This sheer velocity completely masked any deficiency in his recently practiced swordsmanship. Even if Huyan Peng’s decades of sword practice made him superior in technique, he was now suppressed by Zhang Yang's pace, unable to bring his own strengths fully into play.

At this point, Huyan Peng wasn't even thinking about the name 'Cold Spring Sword'; his entire focus was consumed by defending against Zhang Yang.

"Cold Spring Sword. Interesting!"

The Li family elder opened his eyes fully, a strange, wry smile curving his lips.

The elders of the Huyan and Long families beside him exchanged glances. The Huyan elder turned back to the stage, his brow twitching slightly. He could clearly see Huyan Peng was at a disadvantage; there was no hope for him to win this match, let alone kill Zhang Yang.

This realization brought a faint touch of disappointment to his heart.

The Li elder paid no mind, watching Zhang Yang with deep interest, his thoughts inscrutable to all.

On the martial arts platform, the situation had shifted again. Soon, Huyan Peng was reduced to purely defensive maneuvers.

The Huyan family members grew anxious. Unless they sent more people to join the fray, it appeared Huyan Peng was destined to lose. The idea that a master in the late Third Realm couldn't defeat a young man barely twenty years old was something they would never have dared to imagine before.

"Clang, clang!"

After blocking two successive blows, Huyan Peng’s expression changed again.

Because his internal energy was being rapidly depleted, every clash of weapons scattered much of the energy he had channeled into his blade. He slightly relaxed the energy infusion into his weapon. A true divine weapon, after all, should not require excessive channeling of internal energy—otherwise, it wouldn't deserve the title of divine.

The moment he eased his infusion, Zhang Yang's sword scored a small nick onto Huyan Peng's treasured weapon. His divine weapon was, effectively, damaged.

"Cold Spring Sword, an artifact from the Divine Weapon Rankings?"

Only now did he grasp the significance of the name Zhang Yang had announced. He backed away, shouting in horrified realization. Zhang Yang’s youth combined with such formidable strength was astonishing enough, but to wield a Divine Weapon Ranking artifact was unheard of. Most of the ten great artifacts were lost; possessing even one, even if ranked tenth, was an extraordinary feat.

As he cried out in shock, a sharp glint flashed in Zhang Yang's eyes.

A perfect opportunity. Huyan Peng’s focus was fractured. At this moment, his strength had fallen below eighty percent of its peak, while Zhang Yang remained in optimal condition.

Without hesitation, a thought surged through Zhang Yang’s mind, and his gaze flickered towards the distance.

In the distance, a streak of white light approached rapidly, arriving almost instantaneously upon the martial arts platform. A pure white horse, carrying two small figures—one large, one small—upon its back, appeared before everyone.