96: Chapter 96 Su Xue's True Strength

The final duel took place between Han Hao and Luo Li.

Luo Li's figure flickered on the fifth arena, and Wind Blades shot toward Han Hao like fine rain: "Can Junior Han's Sword Heart Clarity predict my Wind Shadow Follows?"

Han Hao drew his long sword, the tip constantly locked onto Luo Li's movements: "Senior, feel free to try."

Luo Li activated her ability, her form splitting into several afterimages, and Wind Blades assaulted from all directions.

Han Hao, however, was unhurried. He danced his long sword until it was impenetrable, with every Wind Blade being precisely shattered by the sword tip.

His Sword Locking Throat move seemed slow, yet it always appeared in front of Luo Li's afterimages ahead of time, forcing her to constantly change her position.

"Not bad."

The duel between Han Hao and Luo Li remained deadlocked on the fifth arena.

Luo Li's Wind Shadow Follows suddenly caused her figure to split into several afterimages, and Wind Blades assaulted from all directions like a sudden downpour.

Although Han Hao's Sword Heart Clarity could predict most of the trajectories, he was still at a disadvantage in terms of Realm; his sword tip was always a fraction of a second away from touching her true body.

"It seems no matter how fast Junior Han's sword is, it cannot catch the shadow of the wind."

Luo Li's voice drifted, and suddenly she controlled the Wind Blades to condense into a rotating wind wheel, sweeping across the arena floor.

Han Hao jumped up with his sword, only to see that Luo Li's true body had used the wind's momentum to circle behind him, with Wind Blades pointing straight at his throat.

He hastily turned his sword to defend, but the Sword Intent shield had barely formed before it was torn open by the Wind Blades; the strong wind grazed his neck, leaving a thin trail of blood.

As Han Hao stumbled and turned, Luo Li was already standing a zhang away behind him, her Wind Blades still pointing at his back: "Junior's Sword Heart Clarity is, after all, half a beat too slow."

Han Hao looked at the bloodstain on his neck, sheathed his sword, and cupped his hands: "Senior's skill is superior."

As he turned to walk off the arena, the patterns on his scabbard no longer glowed—this contest of wind and sword had ultimately seen the wind take a step faster.

By this point, among the first-year New Student arena champions, only Zhang Wen and Su Xue had yet to compete; the others had all been defeated, albeit unwillingly.

The gazes in the arena became increasingly solemn; everyone knew that the next two duels would be the true collision of strength between the New Students and the senior students.

The echoes of the war drums had not yet dissipated when Su Xue's figure stood lightly in the center of the stage like falling snow.

On the edge of her simple dress, faint, tiny ice crystals flickered in and out of existence.

With her steady breathing, the surrounding air seemed to drop several degrees compared to elsewhere.

Yet, it was cleverly restrained by the still-water-like Qi surrounding her, showing not a hint of sharpness.

Chu Feng looked at the junior student before him who held no weapon, his eyes sharp as lightning.

His "Purple Lightning Thousand Threads" had been practiced to the Peak, allowing him to condense tiny purple electric sparks at his fingertips; he had once used this talent in past competitions to tear through tough black iron nets.

Seeing Su Xue's calm demeanor, he said in a deep voice: "Junior, do you know that my electric threads entering the body can burn through tendons and bones?"

Su Xue lifted her eyelids slightly, her clear, shallow voice sounding like the collision of ice crystals: "Senior's electricity can split stubborn iron, but it cannot pierce through cold ice."

Before the words faded, Chu Feng had already dashed out like a leopard.

The moment his left foot kicked off the ground, the wooden floor of the arena sparked with scorch marks, and tiny purple electric sparks danced around him.

With his hand-raising motion, dozens of hair-thin purple electric threads shot from his fingertips, weaving into an electric net in the air, rushing toward Su Xue's face with a crackling explosion.

Someone in the stands exclaimed: "It's the Weaving Net style of the Purple Lightning Thousand Threads! Chu Feng wants a quick victory!"

Just as the electric net was half a foot away from Su Xue, she finally moved.

Her simple dress spun gently, and a faint white mist suddenly rose around her. Her figure, like willow catkins blown by a cold wind, slid half a foot to the right at an unbelievable angle.

This slide appeared slow, yet it caused the electric net to graze her shoulder—the scorching heat wave brought by the electric threads caused her sleeves to slightly curl.

But the dense current seemed to have crashed into an ice cellar, unable to even lift a fold of her dress.

"Hmm?"

Chu Feng was stunned. The electric net had struck the arena pillar behind him; with a sizzle, the bowl-thick wooden pillar was scorched black and smoking.

At this moment, Su Xue's fingertips had already landed on his wrist pulse.

The moment her fingertips touched his clothes, Chu Feng felt a bone-chilling cold spread along his arm, as if his wrist pulse had been lightly pricked by an ice needle.

The numbness was ten times stronger than before!

He hurriedly retracted his wrist and pointed his finger, wanting to shake off his opponent with a swift current, but just as his fingertip was halfway up, he saw Su Xue's figure drifting to his left side.

Her footwork was truly too light; her toes tapped on the wooden board without even a sound, only occasionally stirring up a few fallen leaves coated in white frost as her hem swept across the ground.

Chu Feng's Purple Lightning Thousand Threads emphasized speed, precision, and ruthlessness, with every electric thread requiring the condensation of his entire body's Qi.

Yet, Su Xue could always deliver a palm strike from the most tricky angle the moment his old strength was exhausted and his new strength had not yet been born.

That palm strike appeared gentle, yet when it landed on his shoulder or waist, it always carried an unmelting chill, making his Qi circulation sluggish.

"This footwork... and this chill in the Qi... could it be the Cold River Steps?"

A teacher in the spectator stands suddenly stood up, "No, the Cold River Steps are not this nimble; this is more like... the manifestation of the power of ice and snow!"

After thirty rounds, Chu Feng's forehead was sweating.

His electric threads struck the arena, leaving one scorched mark after another, but he hadn't even touched a corner of Su Xue's clothing.

Instead, everywhere Su Xue's fingertips brushed, a layer of thin ice would condense on his clothes, shattering into ice chips with his movements.

"Enough!"

Chu Feng roared suddenly, and his entire body's Qi surged violently.

Purple lightning spread from his fingertips to his entire arm, and spiderweb-like electric patterns even appeared on his exposed neck.

"The Peak of the Microscopic Realm Mad Thunder Style, let's see how you dodge this!"

When this style was unleashed, the very air seemed to vibrate.

The purple lightning at his fingertips condensed into several arm-thick electric dragons, truly crashing toward Su Xue like wild thunder, and circles of scorched marks appeared on the arena floor with Chu Feng at the center!

The crowd in the stands held their breath, and even the referee was prepared to intervene at any moment—the power of this style was enough to seriously injure an ordinary person in the Subtle Realm on the spot!

Yet, Su Xue's face remained calm.

She slowly raised her palms, her palms gradually covered by a layer of glistening white ice crystals, and the white mist around her grew thicker, condensing into a vague phantom of ice and snow behind her.

That phantom seemed to possess the majesty of an empress; as she pushed her palms out, the surrounding temperature dropped sharply, and a layer of thin ice instantly formed on the non-scorched wooden boards of the arena!

"She... her Qi is condensing into ice?!"

Amidst the exclamations, Su Xue's palms collided with Chu Feng's electric dragons.

There was no expected loud noise, only a soft "crack"—the purple electric dragons at Chu Feng's fingertips were actually wrapped in a layer of rapidly spreading hard ice!

He felt a soft yet firm chill surging into his arm; his current, capable of splitting iron, was like a thunderstorm hitting an iceberg, instantly frozen and dissipated.

Even more terrifyingly, the chill climbed up his arm, and even the Qi he was circulating seemed to be on the verge of freezing!

"This is...?!" A deafening uproar erupted in the spectator stands.

Su Xue's palm force did not stop; the moment she neutralized the current, she flipped her wrist slightly, and the ice-crystal-covered palm edge flicked upwards.

Chu Feng felt a chill in his chest, the cold air piercing straight to his heart and lungs. He groaned and stumbled back seven or eight steps, only stabilizing his figure when he hit the pillar at the edge of the arena.

He looked down, and the front of his clothes was already covered in a thick shell of ice; the place where he had been brushed by her palm edge was frozen to the point of losing sensation.

Su Xue stood with her palms retracted, the white mist around her gradually dissipating, leaving only the ice crystals on her dress shimmering in the sunlight.

Her breathing was steady, as if she had just done something completely ordinary: "Senior, you yield."

The entire arena fell silent for a full three breaths before an uproar ten times more intense than before erupted.

"Peak of the Microscopic Realm! And a first-year New Student at that!"

"Chu Feng's Mad Thunder Style! It was actually frozen by her cold Qi?"

"No wonder she doesn't use weapons... This power of ice and snow is itself the most terrifying weapon!"

Everyone's gaze focused once again on the figure in plain clothes on the arena; this time, there was a bit more awe in their amazement.

This seemingly weak first-year girl was not only at the Peak of the Microscopic Realm but also possessed the legendary "Ice and Snow Empress" talent—capable of condensing ice with Qi and sealing enemies with coldness.

Zhao Ya finally felt relieved; the one who defeated her was a powerhouse who could defeat the second-year second arena champion, so losing was not unjust.

Other first-year New Students felt even more pressure—they already knew it was hard to beat the second-year senior students, but they hadn't expected someone could actually do it; this gap made them feel heavy.