Boom!
Everyone heard a thunderous explosion.
On the North Arena, Drake Yu unleashed a savage burst of inner power, shattering the entire ring and blasting Colin Su straight out of bounds with a single strike.
Terrifying beyond words!
Everyone present gasped at the scene, looking at Drake Yu with a mix of awe and fear.
But Drake Yu, standing atop the broken stones, showed no hint of victory—only a heavy, serious expression as he turned to look across hundreds of meters toward the South Arena!
Even the spectators under the North Arena, including Martin Mu, instinctively followed Drake Yu’s gaze.
Wherever their eyes landed—
The entire South Arena was wrapped in a layer of blue radiance.
That blue light shrouded the whole arena, making it impossible to see what was happening inside.
"If you can force Junior Brother Zhao to use the Misty Rain Sword, no matter who you are, you can die without regrets."
Drake Yu let out a cold snort.
For the Southriver Sword Sect, having their prodigy Zack Zhao forced to this point is a public humiliation!
Beneath the blue glow, Evan Lin reached out and conjured a transparent short sword.
The short sword was four feet long, shining with white light—much plainer and more subdued than the brilliance of Zack Zhao’s Misty Rain Sword.
From midair, Zack Zhao slashed down with the Misty Rain Sword. The blade, usually soft and flexible, stiffened at the moment of descent, its edge revealed in full.
Evan Lin’s right hand lifted, his four-foot blade tracing several overlapping patterns through the air before colliding head-on with the Misty Rain Sword.
It was like a force that had been building up forever finally found its outlet.
The raging winds knocked every spectator around the ring flat onto the ground.
The Misty Rain Sword’s blue glow instantly dimmed.
Clang.
Bang.
A sound like metal snapping echoed through the arena.
Drake Yu, who had been expressionless, suddenly felt his heart skip for no reason. He looked over, his brows tightly furrowed.
As the blue glow on the South Arena faded away, everyone saw Zack Zhao kneeling on the ground, clutching half a broken short sword, barely holding himself up.
Zack Zhao’s clothes were torn to shreds, his body covered in shocking wounds and streaks of blood. Many who saw it felt a chill run down their spine.
And in front of the half-kneeling Zack Zhao, the youth with a backpack walked past, hands in his pockets—completely unharmed!
The atmosphere suddenly turned eerie.
No one said a word.
The crowds beneath the East and West Arenas hadn’t even noticed what just happened.
Martin Mu stared hard at the youth’s departing figure, feeling an odd sense of familiarity.
There was a lonely arrogance about the youth’s posture. As he left the arena, the crowd parted for him, no one daring to say a word or stand in his way.
"This round, the challenger wins!"
Uncle Victor Li hurried up to the stage to declare the outcome.
By the time people snapped out of it and tried to get a good look at the winner, they realized the youth had already vanished without a trace.
Yvonne Zhu was still in a daze, unable to process what had just happened.
Drake Yu, exuding fierce aura, gazed from afar at Zack Zhao kneeling on the arena, his Misty Rain Sword broken, eyes flickering with complex emotions.
On the eighth day of the Moore Family Arena Tournament, three major upsets erupted in a row.
Drake Yu remained undefeated, taking down his fellow disciple Colin Su. Meanwhile, Hank Yue was unexpectedly beaten by Zack Guang, and Bill Bi was caught off guard and knocked out of the ring by Warren Wang—both losing their matches.
Most shocking of all, the much-hyped prodigy Zack Zhao was decisively defeated by an unknown youth—who even snapped the famed Misty Rain Sword, one of the Five Swords of the Southriver Sword Sect!
Moore Family Main Hall.
Victor Moore sat in the seat of honor, eyes closed.
Martin Mu hurried in from outside.
"Zack Guang beat Hank Yue, Warren Wang beat Bill Bi, and Drake Yu defeated Colin Su."
Martin Mu stood below, carefully choosing his words as he reported on today’s events.
"Hmm. Two upsets, but with Drake Yu and Zack Zhao advancing, that’s good enough." Victor Moore nodded slightly.
"But... Zack Zhao, Zack Zhao lost."
Martin Mu’s voice was strained.
"What? Didn’t he draw a bye? How could he lose as the defender?"
Victor Moore’s eyes snapped open. He let out a quiet 'Hmm?' and frowned. "Who beat him?"
"A young man—nobody knows his name. He just stepped onto the stage, fought one match, beat Zack Zhao, and left right after. And..."
At this point, Martin Mu hesitated, unsure how to continue.
"And what?" Victor Moore’s gaze turned cold.
"That youth—barehanded—snapped Zack Zhao’s Misty Rain Sword." Martin Mu took a deep breath, still unable to believe it.
"The Misty Rain Sword is one of the Southriver Sword Sect’s famous Five Swords. Breaking it is no easy feat," Victor Moore shook his head. "Most likely, that youth had some powerful artifact and managed to shatter the Misty Rain Sword by brute force."
Victor Moore’s words made Martin Mu think of the backpack the youth carried. Realization dawned on him, and he nodded. "That’s possible."
"Hmm." Victor Moore pondered for a moment. "How about Drake Yu’s side?"
"Nothing major. He just said Zack Zhao was outmatched." Martin Mu gave a bitter smile.
Victor Moore nodded. "In that case, let the Southriver Sword Sect handle it themselves. Tomorrow is the ninth day—invite them into the forest to draw swords. Whoever is capable should pull a sword themselves. Do you understand what I mean?"
Our Moore family has already given the Southriver Sword Sect plenty of face this time—offering up the ancient sword they’ve always dreamed of. In return, Hanran will marry a genius like Drake Yu and join the Southriver Sword Sect. From now on, all of Jinnan—even affiliated families like the Grant family—will have to respect the Moore family’s standing.
Drake Yu is a once-in-a-century genius, highly valued by everyone. If all goes well, in a few decades he’ll be the next leader of the Southriver Sword Sect—and our Moore family will rise with him!
Victor Moore’s eyes gleamed with ambition as he spoke.
The person who gave Hanran Moore those pills still hasn’t appeared. I wonder if he’ll show up to claim the sword.
Martin Mu remembered something, but still looked hesitant.
Victor Moore let out a cold laugh, his old face turning proud. "It’s already the eighth day. If he didn’t show up earlier, maybe he’s been watching, waiting for the right moment."
But now that he hasn’t appeared by the eighth day, he’s probably intimidated by the Southriver Sword Sect’s strength and doesn’t dare show his face.
He’s probably just a wandering doctor with some mediocre skills, hoping to trade a single pill for our ancient sword. Pure wishful thinking!
If he won’t show up, we’ll just act as if he doesn’t exist. As for Hanran Moore’s father, leave him be for now.
With a wave of his hand, Victor Moore left the hall, looking especially pleased.