Chapter Seventy-Three: The Challenger’s Duel

Very soon, Yan Chen led Ye Zihan away from the inn, heading toward the center of Xuanwu City. At the heart of Xuanwu City was a martial arena, a hundred yards in length and width—an ideal platform for challenge matches. It was also the bustling heart of Xuanwu City, as people from all directions had to pass through here before dispersing to the city’s outskirts.

Along the way, Ye Zihan and his companions saw countless half-beastfolk and cultivators from the mortal realm. Yet Ye Zihan noticed something odd: there were many cultivators from the human world, but almost no ordinary people. The only exceptions were merchants, who came here with business in mind and cared nothing for boundaries. Wherever there was profit to be made, they would surely appear.

“That’s the martial arena of Xuanwu City. Look—crowds everywhere. There must be something exciting going on.” Yan Chen pointed toward a vast open ground, explaining to Ye Zihan. The arena was now surrounded by cultivators, though none seemed to be true experts—merely ordinary practitioners, mere bystanders to the spectacle.

Ye Zihan followed Yan Chen’s gesture and looked. Indeed, the place was packed with people. The arena itself was enormous; even the steps were taller than a man. The field was spotless and flat, and the crowd below was abuzz with excitement.

“Let’s go over for a look. I want to see how many talented young experts Xuanwu City truly has.” Ye Zihan was filled with anticipation—this was his first time in Xuanwu City, and to encounter such lively events on his first visit was a rare stroke of luck.

Yan Chen chuckled, “Haha, Zihan, are you hoping to spar with that brash fellow? Well, in that case, the young city lord might not even need to step in.” Yan Chen had great faith in Ye Zihan, though he couldn’t quite say why—he simply trusted him completely.

Ye Zihan nodded. “That’s exactly my thought. Still, I’m curious about the young city lord’s cultivation. He hasn’t shown himself yet. Is he not coming out?” Ye Zihan found it odd—after all, they were practically fighting at the city lord’s doorstep, but the so-called young city lord had yet to appear.

Yan Chen glanced at Ye Zihan and nodded. “Looks like there will be a good show today. But Zihan, be careful—men’s hearts are treacherous. Be wary of this Chen Yiyan, and don’t show mercy. Strike when you must.” Yan Chen understood Ye Zihan’s character well; he had to remind him not to hold back, for on the arena, killing was commonplace and the victor bore no blame.

As they spoke, Yan Chen and Ye Zihan arrived at the spectator stands of the martial arena, intent on observing Chen Yiyan’s fighting style. They had never heard of this man before, but anyone who dared to boast so wildly in Xuanwu City was certainly no ordinary figure.

“A birdman?” As soon as they reached the arena, Ye Zihan and his companions saw a towering, formidable birdman brutally beating several young experts.

This was a four-winged birdman; four massive wings spread from his back, and in his hand was a blood-soaked axe, making him look like a fiend incarnate.

“That bastard called me a birdman?” Suddenly, the birdman on the arena roared, glaring furiously in their direction. He seemed to have caught Ye Zihan’s words and was incensed, clearly loathing being addressed in such a manner.

“My lord calls you a birdman—what are you going to do about it?” Suddenly, Mo You, nestled in Ye Zihan’s arms, shouted loudly. Though still only palm-sized and not attracting much attention, the crowd’s gaze now settled fully on Ye Zihan.

“That fellow’s cultivation has already reached the Five Elements stage. This is bad, Mo You, keep quiet!” Ye Zihan hadn’t expected his casual remark to be overheard by the birdman, who now seemed thoroughly enraged.

“Pah! Is the Five Elements stage so impressive? I, the Thousand Nether Blood Phantom Dragon, am at the Four Symbols stage—who’s afraid of whom?” Mo You replied with a fearless air, utterly adorable in its audacity. Not even the King of Heaven could frighten it—such is the way of the newborn calf unafraid of the tiger.

Yan Chen looked at Ye Zihan and smiled. “Looks like the young city lord won’t need to fight today after all. I’m eager to see your duel with him.” He spoke with a hint of schadenfreude, yet he was confident Ye Zihan would not lose—his instincts told him so.

Though Ye Zihan was only at the middle stage of the Four Symbols realm, Yan Chen still believed he could defeat this opponent. He sized up the four-winged birdman—an expert at the early stage of the Five Elements realm, with a clear advantage in cultivation.

Even so, Yan Chen trusted his own judgment. Ye Zihan gave off an extraordinary presence, and with the assistance of Mo You, one of the three great demon races’ legendary dragons, their chances of victory seemed high.

“Where the hell are you from? Which sect do you belong to, daring to call me a birdman? Remember my name—Chen Yiyan. When you meet the King of Hell, don’t forget it was Chen Yiyan who killed you, just like this piece of trash before me!” With that, Chen Yiyan seized a young expert and, with a single axe blow, cut him down.

A pitiable cry rang out, followed by a column of blood shooting into the sky—the youth was cleaved in two, a scene of utter carnage.

Even the bystanders, prepared for chaos, were startled by Chen Yiyan’s brutality. The once lively arena now boiled with excitement, as every gaze turned to Ye Zihan and Chen Yiyan. The crowd hoped Ye Zihan would challenge Chen Yiyan and, if fortune favored, defeat this savage brute, who had already offended many with his arrogance.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean what I said earlier. Please forgive me—let’s settle this peacefully.” Ye Zihan, for his part, had no desire to become fodder for the crowd’s amusement. He wished to avoid the spotlight, especially as the opponent’s cultivation surpassed his own. Still, he felt no fear—what he’d said had been offhand.

But Chen Yiyan was long past caring. Those who called him “birdman” rarely survived, and all had already reported to the King of Hell. The killing intent in Chen Yiyan’s eyes was unmistakable.

“Sorry? Save your apologies for the King of Hell! Today, you either kill yourself or come up here and fight me. If you’re not strong enough and I kill you, that’s just your bad luck!” Chen Yiyan was utterly arrogant, not regarding Ye Zihan, a Four Symbols cultivator, as a worthy opponent.

Had his opponent been a Five Elements cultivator, Chen Yiyan might have hesitated. But facing only a Four Symbols expert, he was utterly untroubled.

Yan Chen grinned. “Zihan, are you going to fight him or not? If you won’t, let me take your place.” He assumed Ye Zihan was daunted by the difference in strength.

Ye Zihan replied, “No need, brother. I’ll handle this maniac myself. He’s mad with arrogance—a true fanatic.” Ye Zihan understood well: Chen Yiyan was an opponent who demanded to be faced, and clearly meant to kill him. If he didn’t step onto the arena, Chen Yiyan would only force the confrontation, making things even more awkward.

“You cowards, stop your bickering! I, Chen Yiyan, will slaughter you both today. If you don’t believe me, come up together.” Chen Yiyan pointed his bloodied axe at the corpses strewn across the arena. Only now did Ye Zihan and Yan Chen see clearly—the ground was littered with the bodies of Xuanwu City’s young experts. This man was truly a madman, killing without hesitation—something that took both by surprise.

“Very well! Today, I, Ye Zihan, accept your challenge!” With a resounding shout, Ye Zihan leapt onto the arena. The stands were packed with spectators, and Ye Zihan knew he had to take this seriously. What had begun as simple curiosity had, through a mere misunderstanding, escalated into a deadly confrontation—entirely beyond his expectations.

Chen Yiyan eyed him and sneered, “Where are you from? Which sect are you from? Speak quickly—after you die, I’ll notify your family.” Chen Yiyan was a man of principle; he had slain countless experts, yet always informed their families, inviting further vendettas. He relished the never-ending cycle of vengeance.

Ye Zihan glanced at the severed limbs and bloody remains strewn about the arena—a gruesome sight that would have terrified any ordinary man. Instead, Chen Yiyan’s slaughter only stirred Ye Zihan’s revulsion and, in turn, his fighting spirit.

A surging battle aura radiated from Ye Zihan. He said coldly, “I’m from the Heaven-defying Pavilion. If you have the ability, kill me.” He made no effort to conceal his affiliation, though he withheld his status as the pavilion master to avoid revealing too much.

“Heaven-defying Pavilion? What’s that? Ha! I’ve never heard of it. But it matters little—soon you’ll be dead. Show your weapon!” Chen Yiyan had never heard of the Heaven-defying Pavilion, and he no longer cared which sect Ye Zihan belonged to. If he was from no great sect, so much the easier—he could simply toss the corpse to the beasts and be done.

Ye Zihan nodded. “That’s right. I’m from the Heaven-defying Pavilion. Don’t tell me when to draw my weapon—when the time comes, I’ll act. You may begin!” He did not retreat a single step. He knew he must break through in battle; otherwise, future advancement would only become more difficult.