The silence in the arena was broken by the metallic sound.

Both swords were unsheathed at the same time, reflecting the golden morning light.

Kyrian and Mo Tianhai did not exchange a single word. They didn't need to. Their blades would be their mouths.

They advanced together, their feet pounding across the arena with force.

The impact was immediate.

The swords clashed in a straight line, brute force against brute force. The first strike had no technique, no subtlety, only pure brutality.

The sound reverberated through the stands, echoing across the inner sect.

Kyrian was the first to yield. The weight of Mo Tianhai's blade was crushing, every inch pressing his sword back. His arms trembled slightly, and his feet slid across the stone floor.

One step. Two. Three steps.

Tianhai growled low, pressing even harder.

But then Kyrian's gaze gleamed.

His sword moved lightly, almost imperceptibly, and suddenly the blades broke apart. In an instant, the balance of force shifted.

Kyrian stepped back three paces, his body relaxed.

Mo Tianhai, however, refused the distance.

He lunged fiercely, raising his sword over his shoulder and swinging it down with extreme force.

But Kyrian had already seen it.

His focused eyes captured everything, the angle, the speed, and the exact moment the strike would land.

Kyrian's blade rose gently, deflecting Tianhai's sword with almost unreal precision.

In the same motion, Kyrian pushed forward and lashed out a kick against Tianhai's chest.

The impact resounded loudly. Mo Tianhai was hurled several meters away, the air leaving his lungs in a forced gasp.

He spun in the air and landed perfectly on the ground, rising again as he slapped the dust from his chest.

His expression hardened, his eyes burning with rage.

Kyrian remained still, unscathed, his sword relaxed in his hand.

He would not allow Tianhai to get close again.

From the stands, voices rose in waves.

"He… he kicked Mo Tianhai. That shouldn't count."

"No, the only rule is no Qi. There's nothing saying they can't use their bodies to attack."

"Did you see? He deflected the strike perfectly. How the hell did he see it so clearly?"

The voices swelled, growing louder as the crowd grew excited with the fight. Yet none dared to shout too loud, not under the tension dominating the arena.

Mo Tianhai roared, brandishing his sword again.

"Come again!"

He charged, and Kyrian advanced too. But this time…

This time, there was no direct clash of brute force.

The swords met halfway in rapid cuts, movements sparking light with every collision.

The blades danced at absurd speed. Despite their cultivation, it was still difficult for many to follow each move from afar. Only the most experienced could glimpse fragments of the exchanges, eyes wide.

And they were thrilled, for the skill of both and their way of fighting gave many disciples different insights.

With each exchange, Kyrian seemed calmer. His arm moved with absolute precision and calculation. His blade sliced through the space with perfect trajectory. He wasn't just attacking, he was anticipating.

Mo Tianhai pressed with excellent technique, but mostly with brute strength. His strikes carried fury and determination.

Yet more and more of his blows slipped through Kyrian's defenses.

He was so focused on attacking, yet unable to land a strike. Meanwhile…

A gash appeared on his arm. Another on his shoulder. A shallow cut tore across his robe at the abdomen. Even his cheek was marked.

A thin trickle of blood slid slowly down.

His teeth clenched. He roared, increasing his speed even more, but Kyrian was still there, defending, deflecting, counterattacking, always several steps ahead.

From the stands, disciples began to realize.

"Kyrian is completely controlling the fight…"

"Mo Tianhai is physically stronger, but it doesn't matter. Kyrian is anticipating every move and responding perfectly."

"Even noticing it, Tianhai isn't retreating. At this rate, by the end of the fight, he'll be completely battered."

While everyone had their thoughts on the battle, suddenly something changed.

Mo Tianhai, who had seemed never to retreat, stepped back. His shoulders heaved with effort.

Sweat streamed down his forehead. His eyes burned red with rage, and suddenly, from his throat burst a feral roar.

"HAAAAA!"

At that same moment, Kyrian furrowed his brows and stepped back.

The pressure had shifted.

Tianhai's blade came down, and with it a different weight. A simple strike, but carrying something beyond his usual force.

It was as if a second, invisible sword had fallen alongside it, with an even heavier weight.

Kyrian raised his own sword at the last moment, deflecting the blow, but his feet were instantly dragged across the ground by the impact.

Silence fell over the arena.

And then, suddenly, the disciples began to feel it.

The swords at each of their sides vibrated slightly. Only for an instant. But some, strapped at their waists, trembled.

Others, sheathed on their backs, let out a faint metallic wail.

Everyone held their breath.

"T-that was…!"

"Sword Intent, Tianhai touched Sword Intent!"

The uproar exploded.

Above, elders watched with serious eyes. One of them murmured.

"Mo Tianhai really managed to reach the seed of Sword Intent… he will surely attain full intent in a few years."

The sect leader, Feng Yuan, observed silently from atop a tree.

His eyes gleamed, and a soft sigh escaped his lips.

"Impressive… Mo Tianhai truly possesses more talent than I could have imagined."

The crowd boiled with excitement. Disciples rose from their seats, unable to contain themselves.

"In the younger generation… someone actually touched Sword Intent!!"

"Tianhai will truly become a pillar of the sect in the future."

But not everyone was convinced.

One of the elders above shook his head.

"They truly get ahead of themselves. It's only incomplete intent. A seed. That is still far from being something real."

"Yes… compared to that freak, the other boy, who already comprehended the ancestor's complete intent…"

"It's still lacking."

Kyrian adjusted his stance. His eyes fixed on Mo Tianhai. He did not seem surprised, after all, for Tianhai to challenge him even after hearing the leader's words, he had to have something to rely on.

'So that's it…' was Kyrian's thought.

Mo Tianhai panted heavily, his lips curved into a mad smile.

He looked at Kyrian with crazed battle intent.

Kyrian remained silent. The swords had spoken, but the battle seemed to have only just begun.

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