Volume One, Chapter 19: An Inch of the Captain’s Blade, the Advantage Is Mine

However, they did not overlook this crucial detail.

After that strike, Jiang Wu seemed to realize he had utilized cultivation power beyond his current rank, yet not a trace of embarrassment or unease appeared on his face. Instead, his determination to defeat Ye Chen only grew firmer. He gazed at Ye Chen, his eyes glinting with a cold, piercing light, as if he intended to run his opponent through entirely.

"Junior brother, I underestimated your strength," Jiang Wu said slowly, his voice laced with gravity and reluctance. "I never imagined that in these past few years, you would have made such significant progress."

Ye Chen smiled slightly, his eyes revealing a sense of composure and confidence. "Jiang Wu, you know very well why I have been training so diligently."

Hearing this, Jiang Wu’s expression flickered, but he quickly regained his calm. "Haha, junior brother, of course I know your intentions. But what is the use of such diligence? Do you truly believe that the length of a weapon alone can decide the outcome?"

Before the words had even faded, Jiang Wu’s figure suddenly shifted. Like an eagle soaring into the sky, he retreated several yards in an instant. Once his feet landed firmly, he cast his longsword before him, his hands rapidly forming seals to command the blade in a long-range assault.

He knew well that as a practitioner at the Void-Piercing Realm, his reserves of true energy were far beyond anything Ye Chen, a mere Meridian-Opening Realm warrior, could hope to match. Thus, he chose the most prudent strategy: using long-range attacks to slowly deplete Ye Chen’s meager energy reserves with his golden, shimmering sword until his opponent collapsed from exhaustion. This tactic allowed him to bypass Ye Chen’s prowess in close-quarters combat while maximizing his own strengths.

"Ye Chen, your spear is destined to fall under my sword today!" Jiang Wu declared coldly. His voice was filled with such arrogance and authority that it seemed as though he had already witnessed his own victory.

With a flick of his mind, the golden sword lunged like a dragon ascending to the heavens, cleaving through the air to strike at Ye Chen’s vital points. Initially, Jiang Wu adopted a frontal assault to test Ye Chen’s reflexes. However, Ye Chen did not retreat. Holding his spear, he unleashed a flurry of strikes, the dragon-like shadows of the weapon clashing with the golden sword to produce bursts of sparks. Every collision was deafening, a testament to their formidable skill.

Seeing that a direct assault was ineffective, a cold sneer curled the corner of Jiang Wu’s lips. He shifted his sword fingers, guiding the blade in fluid, unpredictable patterns—sometimes circling behind for a sneak attack, sometimes changing angles—all in an attempt to disrupt Ye Chen’s rhythm and judgment.

This relentless chain of attacks proved effective. Under the barrage, Ye Chen’s footwork became slightly chaotic, and a flicker of subtle panic crossed his eyes. The fellow disciples watching from the sidelines began to buzz with excitement:

"Haha, it looks like Ye Chen is about to lose."

"Indeed, he has completely lost his composure; he is certain to be defeated."

"Exactly. Spear-fighting is his advantage in close combat, but now that the Sword Prince refuses to engage him directly and uses long-range tactics instead, it is truly brilliant."

These words drifted past Jiang Wu’s ears like a gentle breeze. A smug smile widened on his face as he mocked, "Ye Chen, it seems no one thinks you have any chance of turning this around!"

Yet, Ye Chen acted as if he were in another world, his mind unmoved by the voices and commentary. He knew that succumbing to panic now would only accelerate his defeat; only by remaining calm could he find a glimmer of hope.

Meanwhile, Jiang Wu realized that dragging out the fight was not a long-term solution. He decided to raise the stakes, pouring more true energy into the golden sword. The blade’s light surged instantly, brilliant as the midday sun, as it pierced through the air with the vow to take Ye Chen down in one strike.

"Boom!" The two powerful forces collided in the air. The impact of the spear tip against the sword point produced a deafening roar, accompanied by a shockwave that sent dust flying and made the very air tremble. The spectators were stunned by the sudden surge of power, involuntarily retreating several steps. Once they regained their footing and looked back at the arena, their thoughts were divided.

"It seems if Ye Chen cannot withstand this strike, he is truly finished," someone in the crowd sighed, their tone heavy with concern.

"Ye Chen is doomed," another voice followed, filled with cold finality, as if the outcome were already carved in stone.

However, at this critical juncture where the result seemed decided, Ye Chen’s eyes suddenly turned exceptionally firm, shining with an unyielding light like the brightest stars in the night sky. Within him, a hidden power seemed to surge—a desperate longing for victory and a defiance against fate.

Suddenly, Ye Chen performed an act that left everyone dumbfounded. He twisted his body slightly, in a move that defied conventional logic, shifting his spear tip just enough to leave a gap. He allowed the golden sword, like a wild horse breaking its tether, to charge toward his chest with unstoppable force. This tilt appeared to be the result of his spear failing against the blade, but in reality, it was a trap meticulously laid by Ye Chen.

The golden sword traced a dazzling path through the air and, after stalling momentarily against the spear tip, drove like an arrow toward Ye Chen’s chest. The air seemed to freeze; everyone’s heart skipped a beat as they held their breath, waiting for that decisive moment.

Seeing this, Jiang Wu was overjoyed, almost laughing aloud. He believed that with this single strike, Ye Chen would surely fall, never to rise again.

"Ye Chen, in the end, you still—"

However, before he could finish, Ye Chen made a move that stunned everyone. He leaned to the side, contorting his body at an impossible angle to narrowly avoid the sword’s lethal strike to his vitals. The golden sword pierced his chest at a strange, shallow angle.

A sharp, audible "squelch" rang out as the blade buried itself in flesh, and the scent of blood instantly permeated the air. Seeing this, the crowd began to cheer for Jiang Wu, convinced he had won.

"The Sword Prince is invincible!"

"That trash Ye Chen actually dared to challenge the Sword Prince; he’s just courting death."

"Exactly. Even if he dies from his wounds later, we should have no pity for him!"

"Yes, that is certain."

Such comments rose and fell, filled with recognition for Jiang Wu’s power and mockery of Ye Chen. Yet, just as everyone thought the match was over, Ye Chen did not collapse from his grievous wounds. He endured the searing pain in his chest, his eyes burning with an even fiercer intensity.

Jiang Wu, seeing this, was momentarily struck by doubt and distraction. In that brief moment of hesitation, the wounded Ye Chen seized the golden opportunity. He thrust his spear violently toward Jiang Wu’s neck. With no armor protecting that area, the spear tip easily pressed against the throat of the Sword Prince.