The inner arena was filled long before the appointed time, as disciples from across the sect gathered in anticipation, their voices blending into a low hum of excitement and speculation, while above them, elders observed from elevated platforms, their expressions calm yet attentive, fully aware that this duel would reveal more than just the outcome of a personal conflict.
When Li Hao entered, the noise diminished slightly, as many eyes turned toward him, some filled with curiosity, others with doubt, and a few with quiet expectation, because regardless of opinion, no one could deny that he had reached this point through his own strength.
Moments later, Zhao Kun stepped into the arena from the opposite side, his presence immediately dominating the space, as the pressure of his cultivation spread outward, forcing weaker disciples to instinctively retreat, creating a stark contrast between the two figures now standing across from each other.
One represented overwhelming established power.
The other—rising defiance.
They stopped at the center.
No words were exchanged.
Because none were needed.
The entire arena fell into silence.
Waiting.