The Art of Chaotic Divinity

"Slash!"

Long Aotian let out a thunderous roar and swung his sword.

The strike descended like a bolt of lightning.

Howling winds erupted around it as thunder seemed to explode through the air.

The sword's momentum was so fierce that it looked capable of cleaving space itself apart.

...

After defeating several geniuses in succession, Long Aotian burst into laughter and declared arrogantly,

"Who else?"

"Qin Yang of Tianchuan Sword Manor requests your guidance, Brother Long!"

Whoosh!

A figure in purple leaped forward and landed before Long Aotian.

Ten moves later, the disciple from Tianchuan Sword Manor was sent flying by another of Long Aotian's sword strikes.

"Hahaha! Who else?"

Long Aotian laughed wildly.

Having defeated three opponents in a row, his momentum soared.

For a time, nobody dared step forward to challenge him.

Then his gaze suddenly shifted toward Ling Feng.

A trace of obvious anger flickered within his eyes.

"Brat from the Dongling Region, I heard you showed off your skills yesterday and taught my useless third brother a lesson."

His voice grew colder.

"What? Not planning to come up here and spar with me today?"

A mocking smile appeared on his face.

"Or are you afraid I'll beat you to death?"

Ling Feng rubbed the bridge of his nose.

As expected, trouble had come looking for him.

After dealing with the younger brother, the elder brother had naturally appeared.

Just as Ling Feng was preparing to step forward, a handsome man wrapped in a fox-fur cloak rose from the Beihan Region seating area.

He looked thoroughly uninterested.

With a lazy expression, he remarked,

"So this is the swordsmanship of the Xijian Region? Nothing special."

"Hmm?"

Long Aotian was currently enjoying his moment of glory.

The instant he heard those words, his brows furrowed.

His gaze left Ling Feng and shot toward the fox-fur-clad man like a blade.

"What did you say?"

His voice turned icy.

"Say it again."

The fox-fur-clad man remained expressionless.

"I don't like repeating myself."

"Good. You've got guts."

Long Aotian clenched his fists.

"State your name."

"Luo Hanzhou."

The man stood with his hands behind his back.

Facing Long Aotian's murderous stare, he showed no fear whatsoever.

"Luo Hanzhou?"

Long Aotian sneered.

"So you claim the swordsmanship of the Xijian Region is lacking. Then tell me, what impressive abilities does your Beihan Region possess?"

"It's nothing worth bragging about."

Luo Hanzhou's voice remained calm.

"Still, defeating you will be more than enough."

His tone was indifferent.

Cold.

As cold as the frozen winds of the far north.

Merely hearing it made people instinctively shiver.

Then Luo Hanzhou began walking toward the center of the arena.

Ling Feng immediately noticed something unusual.

Every step Luo Hanzhou took covered exactly the same distance.

Not approximately.

Exactly.

It was as though each movement had been carefully measured beforehand.

A person capable of controlling his body to such a degree had already reached an extraordinary level of mastery.

So the experts of the Beihan Region could no longer remain idle.

A trace of excitement rose in Ling Feng's heart.

The Xijian Region specialized in Sword Dao.

The Beihan Region, on the other hand, was renowned for body refinement.

"What arrogance!"

Long Aotian swung his greatsword.

The blade cut through the air with a howl.

Staring coldly at Luo Hanzhou, he shouted,

"Three moves!"

"I'll knock you off this stage within three moves!"

Luo Hanzhou slowly raised a single finger.

Then he gently shook his head.

"Three moves won't be necessary."

"One move is enough."

"Arrogant!"

Long Aotian trembled with rage.

Taking a massive step forward, he charged like a Fierce Tiger descending from the mountains.

His greatsword rose high before crashing downward.

A blurred afterimage followed the blade.

The air exploded.

Violent winds screamed.

The entire attack resembled a roaring tiger descending upon its prey.

Its pressure was overwhelming.

The gale blew Luo Hanzhou's long hair aside, revealing the other half of his face.

His expression remained as cold as ever.

A sharp gleam flickered within his eyes.

In the next instant, Long Aotian's sword should have split him in two.

But at that critical moment, Luo Hanzhou moved.

His fist shot forward.

It was so fast that nobody could properly see it.

Many could not even tell how he had thrown the punch.

At the same time, Long Aotian's descending sword suddenly froze in midair.

It was as though someone had cast a paralysis spell on him.

Only then did everyone realize what had happened.

At some point, Luo Hanzhou's fist had already reached Long Aotian's chest.

Brilliant fist light gathered at the point of contact.

The slightest release of force would instantly shatter Long Aotian's heart.

A chill spread across Long Aotian's scalp.

Cold sweat poured down his face.

If this had been a life-and-death battle rather than a sparring match, he would already be dead.

"You're too weak."

Luo Hanzhou withdrew and retreated.

His speed remained unbelievably fast.

He appeared ten paces away almost instantly, as though he had teleported.

Fast.

Far too fast.

Long Aotian's face shifted from pale white to deep red.

Humiliation and unwillingness filled his eyes.

Was he really that weak?

Luo Hanzhou stood calmly in the center of the arena.

His cold gaze swept across the crowd.

His voice was like a freezing northern gale.

"Who here can withstand one punch from me?"