As the incense burned down, the elder called for the third round, igniting the crowd's excitement. Of the ten remaining fighters, six were Spirit Warriors, each with deadly skill. Only three hadn't attracted much attention. Strong matches were inevitable.

Two fights grabbed everyone's focus: Qiu Lan against Li Yang, a clash of Spirit Warriors, and Yanlong versus Duoming, an intense matchup.

For the other three matches, expectations were low.

Nalan Yanan, Li Xin, and Chen Fan would likely advance. Sure enough, their opponents either surrendered or fell quickly—Qiankun, despite his best efforts, lasted only three moves before Chen Fan sent him flying off the stage. The gap between Spirit and Qi Warriors was clear and unbridgeable.

This round's main event on the central platform was Qiu Lan vs. Li Yang.

Meanwhile, on the northern stage, Yanlong's cold gaze fixated on Li Xiaoyao. Pure killing intent radiated from him. Destiny, it seemed, had arranged this encounter, and he was set on avenging Yan Qing's death.

"If you're too scared to fight, just get lost! Don't embarrass yourself as a warrior," Yanlong sneered with mocking eyes.

Li Xiaoyao stood calmly, unfazed. "No need to bait me. Trust me, I'll give you that chance for revenge."

Yanlong's face twisted into a dark smile. His taunts had drawn Li Xiaoyao into a fight, as he'd hoped. Li Xiaoyao had seen right through his words yet accepted the challenge anyway.

"Ignorant fool, I'll show you what Spirit Warrior strength means—the gap between us is beyond reach," Yanlong sneered to himself. He didn't even summon his martial spirit, afraid it would frighten Li Xiaoyao off before they even fought.

As he approached within ten steps, Yanlong's foot suddenly halted. With a fierce, lightning-infused strike, wave after wave of forceful palm prints flooded toward Li Xiaoyao, covering him completely. From Yanlong's angle, Li Xiaoyao was completely obscured.

"Daring to mess with someone from my family—you're asking for death!" Yanlong roared, slamming down with a massive killing blow. Even if Li Xiaoyao withstood those earlier attacks, this strike alone would end him. Yanlong's pride wouldn't let him leave a challenger alive.

As the sea of palm prints closed in, a cruel smile spread across Yanlong's face. But then, that brilliant flash appeared once more. The attacks fractured mid-air, cracks forming in every direction, ready to shatter.

"Go to the fucking hellllllll!" Yanlong yelled, slamming down with enough force to crush any Qi Warrior.

"You're fucking weak..."

BOOMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMM.

A cold, calm voice rang out, and a powerful sword aura slashed through everything. The palm prints collapsed, disintegrating into fragments that scattered in the wind. A single sword beam clashed against the heavens themselves.

"This is...this is..Spirit Martial Realm...you are spirit martial realm warrior......fuck....fuckkkkk" Yanlong's face turned pale. How could he not have realized Li Xiaoyao was hiding his power?

The sword aura was icy and merciless, imbued with a destructive energy that obliterated everything in its path.

"The sword is unbreakable, indestructible."

"Holly Shitttttt!" Yanqing shot up from his seat, panic-stricken. But it was already too late. Yanlong had aimed to finish Li Xiaoyao in one decisive strike, leaving no room for retreat. Now, he had no way to counter, let alone withstand Xiaoyao's deadly sword.

Blood spurted from Yanlong's throat. A Spirit Warrior, fallen. Yanlong became the first of this tournament's Spirit Warriors to be slain.

Every Yan family member stood, staring in shock and despair at the scene, watching their best warrior collapse on the stage.

"You're dead!" Yanqing bellowed, his voice booming through the crowd.

Nalan Kunbu frowned. "Enough! Lord Yan. Don't forget where you are—this is the Cangyun Martial Tournament."

Yanqing froze, casting a bitter look at Kunbu before he sat down, unwillingly. Yet his glare toward Li Xiaoyao showed he would not let him go.

"What the? No wayyy...Yanlong was killed by Death with just one sword stroke?" Many who had been watching Qiu Lan's fight were jolted by Kunbu's shout, their gaze locking onto Yanlong's lifeless body.

"God Damnnnn! I missed it, watching Qiu Lan and Li Yang's fight instead. How on earth did Duoming kill Yanlong?"

Regret filled the crowd—they hadn't expected this stage to host such an intense fight. The sudden fall of a powerful Spirit Warrior at the hands of this mysterious, rising swordsman left them in awe.

"look's like we all underestimated him. Turns out Death's also a Spirit Martial Warrior, and strong enough to rank in the top five—maybe even higher."

Not just the crowd, even Nalan Kunbu watched Li Xiaoyao's figure retreat from the battle stage. A single sword strike to defeat a Qi Warrior, then a single sword for a Spirit Warrior. Just how powerful was this guy? Even Kunbu couldn't tell.

Meanwhile, in the other battle, Qiu Lan had just defeated Li Yang, so the top five contenders were decided: Nalan Yanran, Li Xin, Chen Fan, Qiu Lan, and Death.

Once again, it was the lone fighters without family support who made it through, with Qiu Lan and Death. Not a single Yan clan member remained—Li Xiaoyao had slain their most talented heirs.

After another incense-stick length of rest, the elder stepped onto the main stage.

"Fourth round: Li Xin has a bye. Nalan Yanran vs. Chen Fan, Qiu Lan vs. Death."

Excitement rippled through the crowd; the ultimate matchups had finally arrived. Nalan Yanran's strength was well-known, and Chen Fan, a Spirit Martial Warrior at level two, had a higher rank than both Nalan Yanran and Li Xin. Their battle was bound to be intense.

Then there was the other duel: Death--a whirlwind of power, slicing through three fighters in three strikes. What would unfold between him and Qiu Lan?

This time, each duel would happen on the main stage, one after the other.

First up, Nalan Yanran and Chen Fan.

"Chen Fan, you've got some skill, but you still won't be able to beat me. Throw in the towel ," Nalan Yanran declared, radiating her royal-like confidence.

"Are you crazy? what are you talking about? my rank's higher than yours, so if anyone should concede, it should be you then, Nalan Yanran." Chen Fan shot back.

Here's the passage translated with a U.S. cultural tone:

"Stubborn fool," Nalan Yanran snapped, her voice cold. As she unleashed her martial spirit, an imposing, divine arm appeared behind her. Yet, unlike the spirit of Nalan Chen—who Li Xiaoyao had defeated—her divine arm radiated an indestructible golden glow.

"A divine arm martial soul can only be considered perfect if it's a golden arm." Nalan Kunbu smirked. In the past century, only Nalan Yanran had awakened this purest form.

The crowd murmured, awestruck. "As expected of the Princess of Cangyun City—a golden divine arm! Incredible strength!"

Chen Fan, unwilling to be outdone, summoned his own martial soul: a phantom river surged behind him, endlessly flowing, the signature "River Marial Soul" of the Chen clan.

Li Xiaoyao watched in awe, admiring the sheer diversity of these spirits. "Amazing," he thought, "a divine arm, a river—anything can be a Martial Soul."

He then glanced at Li Xin, predicting that after Nalan Yanran likely defeated Chen Fan, In other words, in the next round, he will face Li Xin after defeating Qiu Lan.