I'll make you the furnace and the cauldron, so you can refine Yin and Yang and prove the Great

Zhao Shoudao's primordial spirit power was like an invisible mountain pressing down on Li Hanshan. He felt his spiritual power begin to stagnate, the burning speed of the pure yang fire suddenly decreased, his meridians felt like they were filled with viscous mud, and even the circulation of spiritual power became sluggish.

Zhao Shoudao's primordial spirit was like a gray sun hanging in the center of the arena. Although its light was restrained, it carried an irresistible sense of oppression, compressing Li Hanshan's range of movement to the extreme.

On the plaza, the disciples who had been watching the battle with bated breath all changed their expressions at the same time.

"The power of the primordial spirit... Senior Brother Zhao is getting serious!"

"When a Nascent Soul cultivator uses their primordial spirit power, a Nascent Soul cultivator has no chance to resist!"

"That old man isn't going to make it!"

A smile finally returned to Chang Sheng's face. He turned to look at Wu Qingfeng, his voice low but unable to contain his excitement: "Did you see that? Once the primordial spirit power was unleashed, that old man couldn't even move. How much time is left? Thirty breaths? Twenty breaths? He definitely can't hold on!"

Chen Jie leaned against the stone railing at the edge of the platform, arms crossed, a composed smile returning to his lips. He looked at the figure on the arena being suppressed by the power of the primordial spirit, and slowly exhaled: "Senior Brother Zhao's primordial spirit suppression technique would affect even a cultivator in the early stages of the Nascent Soul realm. For him, a peak Nascent Soul cultivator, to have held on this long is already his limit."

Wang Hao said, "The suppression of Nascent Soul cultivators by the power of the Primordial Spirit is all-encompassing. It's already unexpected that the old man could stand up. But to survive the last few dozen breaths..."

He didn't finish speaking, but the disciples beside him could already understand what he meant.

Xuan Yinzi chuckled lightly: "Fortunately, they didn't directly unleash their primordial spirit; it's not too much of a bully."

The greatest trump card of a Nascent Soul cultivator is their Primordial Spirit. Zhao Shoudao has only used the power of his Primordial Spirit, without actually unleashing it. In Xuan Yinzi's view, this isn't too much of a bullying of Li Hanshan.

"Senior sister, you're going to lose." The alluring female disciple next to Yu Mengjia laughed.

"So what if he loses? I'll just sleep with him for one night." After saying that, Yu Mengjia's gaze fell on the figure that was slowly sinking. The amused smile on her lips faded slightly, replaced by a more serious scrutiny.

She continued, "However, I always felt that he still had a trump card up his sleeve."

The alluring female disciple, oblivious to Li Hanshan's presence, asked, "Could his trump cards possibly be more numerous than those of a Nascent Soul cultivator?"

On the arena, Zhao Shoudao clasped his hands together, and the gray primordial spirit light suddenly surged, blooming like a gray sun above the arena. His voice carried a sincere focus: "The final blow. If you can stand, you pass."

The gray light condensed into a straight beam of light, which blasted towards Li Hanshan.

The instant the pillar of primordial spirit light struck, Li Hanshan abruptly activated the Chongyang Primordial Embryo deep within his sea of ​​consciousness—this time, he held nothing back, releasing seventy percent of the power contained within the primordial embryo! That extremely pure soul power, like spring water breaking through ice, surged down along the Pure Yang Meridian, completely merging with his Pure Yang Fire. Just before the gray pillar of light was about to strike him, the purplish-gold flames suddenly surged, their light several times brighter than before, like a true sun blooming on the arena.

The flaming longsword reformed in his palm, its blade swirling with dense golden patterns, each imbued with the pure soul power of the Chongyang Primordial Embryo. Instead of retreating, he stepped forward to meet the gray pillar of light. The flaming longsword traced a near-perfect arc in the air, and the moment it collided with the gray pillar, a visible golden ripple spread outwards. Like ripples spreading from a stone thrown into water, the ripples rapidly expanded across the surface of the gray pillar.

This time, the gray pillar of light did not disintegrate. It was cleaved in two by the flaming longsword.

The sword light, like the prow of a ship cleaving through ice, sliced ​​the gray pillar of light in two. Zhao Shoudao's pupils constricted sharply; he wanted to change his move, but it was too late. The purplish-gold sword light pierced through the split primordial spirit power, striking precisely the gray protective aura he had hastily erected. The protective aura, like a block of wax pierced by a red-hot iron rod, began to melt and crumble from the point of impact, finally shattering with a deafening roar.

Zhao Shoudao was struck head-on by that force, like a piece of rock smashed by a giant hammer. He was sent flying backward, tumbling twice in the air before crashing heavily onto the bluestone ground outside the arena. Dust billowed, stone slabs shattered, and he struggled to get up, only to find that his robes at the chest were scorched black, and his spiritual energy was chaotically clashing in his meridians, unable to recombine in a short time.

The timing array at the edge of the arena emitted a crisp hum, and the moment the pale golden light screen rose, the words on it clearly appeared—"One incense stick's time, the time is up."

But no one looked at the timer array anymore. Everyone stared blankly at the gray figure lying outside the arena, mouths agape, unable to utter a single word. Zhao Shoudao, a third-level Nascent Soul cultivator, had been knocked off the arena head-on by a peak Nascent Soul cultivator. He hadn't just survived for the time it takes for an incense stick to burn; he had won. He had won head-on.

The square was initially deathly silent. Then, like a pot of boiling oil, a cacophony of noise swept across the entire square with overwhelming force.

"He defeated Zhao Shoudao?!"

"A peak Nascent Soul cultivator defeats a third-level Deity Transformation cultivator?! How is that possible?!"

"That sword light just now... what kind of power was that?"

"Oh my god, Senior Brother Zhao has flown away!"

Chen Jie's smile froze completely. He abruptly straightened up, his knuckles clenched white, his gaze fixed on the gray figure struggling to his feet below the arena. The smile on his lips vanished in an instant. Chang Sheng's mouth gaped open, like a duck being choked, unable to utter a single word. Wu Qingfeng took a half step back, his face ashen.

Wang Haoteng sat up abruptly, Luo Lie almost jumped up, and even Xuan Yinzi crushed the spiritual fruit in his hand.