"He's coming out!"
There's something in his hand... in his hand...
Wait, is that... a sword?
Everyone followed Drake Yu's gaze and looked over in that direction.
When they saw the boy walking out slowly from the depths of the woods at the end of the stone path, everyone's expression changed at once, shock written all over their faces.
"It's really a sword! He actually pulled out the Ancient Sword!"
Someone couldn't help but cry out, their voice echoing loudly. As the words spread, the whole manor heard it clear as day.
On the side, Drake Yu had just barely recovered. The moment he saw Evan Lin really walk out with the sword, his face went pale with fear. He forced himself to stand, motioning for May Xia and Lily Zhou to help him limp away—he didn't dare stick around a second longer.
Bob Moore's face froze; Victor Moore's jaw dropped in utter disbelief; Uncle Victor Li nodded quietly to himself; and Melissa Mu's face was full of joy.
Warren Wang clicked his tongue in genuine admiration, while Bella Xiao's eyes landed on the ancient sword in Evan Lin's hand, deep in thought. Zane Wang could only smile wryly, conceding defeat.
At that moment, everyone turned to look at Drake Yu, who stood on the side with his hands behind his back.
Just earlier, Drake Yu insisted on being the last to enter and draw the sword. But now, the Ancient Sword has already been taken by the boy in front of them. By the rules, Drake has lost his chance and is directly disqualified.
Realizing this, the people around glanced at Drake Yu's cold expression—and some couldn't help but feel a bit smug, enjoying his misfortune.
Tried to flex, but got clowned instead—serves him right for trying to show off and getting wrecked.
Even the Southriver Sword Sect disciples behind Drake Yu looked like they'd just swallowed something nasty, their faces dark and eyes full of murderous intent.
It wasn't until Evan Lin, sword in hand, stepped up to the crowd and stopped that Drake Yu—silent for a long moment—finally narrowed his eyes, looked at Evan, and said coldly: "Since you've drawn the Ancient Sword, hand it over to me now. For the sword's sake, I'll let yesterday's incident slide."
"Otherwise, for breaking a Misty Rain Sword of my sect, you should pay with your life."
Drake Yu's tone was calm, but every word dripped with killing intent and authority. The look he gave Evan was even colder and more indifferent.
The moment he spoke, Bob Moore and the other Moore elders immediately fell silent, their eyes shifting away—clearly not willing to go against the Southriver Sword Sect.
"Since he drew the sword, that means he won—the sword should belong to him!" Melissa Mu protested.
Melissa Mu, who had always seemed gentle and reserved, changed expression when she heard Drake Yu's words. She stepped forward to argue on Evan's behalf.
"Melissa, this isn't the time or place for you to speak up. Step back!" Martin Mu frowned and glared at Melissa, then signaled to Victor Moore, who immediately grabbed her wrist and pulled her behind the elders, forbidding her to say another word.
Seeing the Moore family act this way, the crowd couldn't help but sigh quietly.
Even if someone manages to draw the Ancient Sword by their own power, there's no guarantee they'll be able to keep it. The Moore family is only likely to stay neutral at best—not help the Southriver Sword Sect snatch the sword, but not defend the winner either.
As for the outcome of the tournament, it doesn't really matter at all.
"Robbery?"
Evan Lin looked at Drake Yu with interest.
Drake Yu snorted coldly. "You brought this on yourself."
Then Evan Lin turned to Bob Moore and spoke calmly: "The sword is mine. Does your Moore family have any objections?"
Bob Moore hadn't expected the boy to dare ask this right in front of Drake Yu. After a moment's thought, he said, "By the rules, you won."
But just as Bob Moore spoke, Evan Lin shook his head. "This sword was mine from the start. Your Moore family used my property as a tournament prize—did you ever ask for my permission?"
"We'll settle our score later."
As soon as Evan Lin said this—
the whole place froze in shock.
Even Bella Xiao and the others looked completely lost.
But Bob Moore and the Moore elders' faces changed instantly, as if they'd suddenly realized something. Bob Moore's eyes went wide: "You're that person!"
Martin Mu and Victor Moore also finally put the pieces together. They turned and stared hard at Melissa Mu, who raised her chin, face firm. "That's right. I promised this sword to Master Lin ages ago!"
"This sword has always been his!"
Master Lin!
At those words, several people in the crowd were visibly stunned.
But a few people in the crowd suddenly cried out in shock: "Master Lin? Could that be the legendary Master Lin from Haizhou?"
"The super-genius youth from Haizhou?"
"Holy crap! The one who killed Mo Yang Master's top disciple Huang Longji, then took out several Vajra experts, and even slew a bunch of Medicine King Valley cultivators—that Master Lin?"
The crowd erupted in a chorus of exclamations.
Even Warren Wang and his group looked utterly stunned—they hadn't expected the boy before them to be the Master Lin who shook Haizhou to its core!
Bob Moore, who'd managed to keep his composure until now, looked thunderstruck, his expression shifting wildly.
"This sword belongs to the Moore family. Melissa is just a junior—she had no right to trade it to you! And since you've coveted our sword for so long, your intentions were never pure, so you're not qualified for this tournament! The sword still belongs to the Moore family! As for the medicine you gave us before, I'll repay you with my son's life!" Bob Moore quickly seized on an excuse.
"So, hand over the sword to Young Master Yu now, and our Moore family's grudge against you will be wiped clean!"
Bob Moore spoke in a steady, cold voice.
Drake Yu, hearing the uproar around him, remained utterly unmoved—his face showed not the slightest change.
"Haizhou is a remote place. That so-called number-one in Jiang City, Huang Longji, and those Medicine King Valley cultivators—anyone who hasn't reached the Yin-Yang realm, I can cut down with three strikes!"
Drake Yu wasn't intimidated at all—he just sneered, full of contempt: "You're nothing but a punk who climbed to the top by stepping on a pile of trash. A yellow-haired brat like you dares call himself Master Lin?"
"What a joke!"
Drake Yu leaned forward slightly. Suddenly, a crushing aura exploded from his body, sweeping over the crowd like a tidal wave. The pressure was so intense, everyone felt as if countless sword points were aimed at them, a chilling sense of death filling the air.
But Evan Lin just smiled, holding Dustleave. He traced a circle in the air with the sword tip, then looked at Drake Yu and said, "You want my sword? Fine. Since you're the so-called Southriver Sword Sect prodigy, if you want it, come pull it out yourself."
"If you can pull it out, I'll give it to you."
As soon as he finished speaking, Evan Lin reversed his grip on Dustleave and flicked his wrist.
With a sharp clang, Dustleave flew toward Drake Yu, landing upright half a meter in front of him. The blade pierced three inches into the ground, standing perfectly straight and exuding a chilling aura.