179: Chapter 179 Wang Lin's Test (Part 4)

Shen Qingfeng attacked from the side, his fast sword thrusting towards Wang Lin's nape, but a Tentacle looped around from behind, blocking his sword.

Then, a second and a third Tentacle attacked him simultaneously; he had to deal with two Tentacles alone.

Each Tentacle executed a different saber technique—one fierce and powerful, the other swift—leaving him struggling to parry and in constant danger.

Wen Yanghao's sword thrust out from a bizarre angle, his blood-energy perception desperately trying to track Wang Lin's movements.

However, he had to deal with two Tentacles simultaneously; one employed the elegant Flowing Cloud Saber Technique, its trajectory elusive and hard to grasp.

The other employed the eerie Wind-Slaying Saber Technique, moving at a Speed so fast it was impossible to see.

It was the first time he felt his sword technique was not enough.

Three people, each having to deal with two Tentacles.

Six Tentacles, six saber techniques, as if six people were attacking at the same time.

Han Tieshan's heavy sword was entangled by two Tentacles; one blocked him from the front, while the other attacked from the side, making his sword feel heavier and his breathing increasingly labored.

Shen Qingfeng's Speed could not be fully unleashed under the pincer attack of two Tentacles; just as his sword blocked one, the other had already arrived before him.

Wen Yanghao's predictions had completely failed; his blood-energy perception could not keep up with the different rhythms of the two Tentacles, and his sword strikes became increasingly chaotic.

The three of them gradually fell into a disadvantage.

A scratch appeared on Han Tieshan's armor, a piece of Shen Qingfeng's sleeve was sliced off, and a bloodstain appeared on Wen Yanghao's forehead.

Wang Lin stood in place, six Tentacles dancing around him, his expression calm.

No one on the spectator stand spoke, just staring blankly at this scene.

Luo Qinghe stood at the very back, having not yet made a move.

He just watched the battle in the arena quietly as the three struggled to hold on amidst the siege.

He could no longer stand by and watch; Luo Qinghe drew his sword.

His sword was thin and light, the blade shimmering with a silvery-white luster, much like the man himself—quiet, reserved, and understated.

He took a step forward.

This step made no sound.

But the moment he stepped out, the aura of the entire Martial Arts Arena changed.

It was as if a pebble had been dropped into a pool of stagnant water, ripples spreading silently, and everyone felt it.

Han Tieshan, Shen Qingfeng, and Wen Yanghao simultaneously felt the aura behind them; their movements paused, and then, by tacit agreement, they cleared a path.

It was not planned; it was an instinctive reaction...

A natural reverence for the aura of a strong expert, cultivated on the battlefield.

Luo Qinghe passed through the three of them and stood before Wang Lin.

He did not speak, only looking at Wang Lin, his sword pointing diagonally at the ground, standing in a relaxed posture, just standing there.

But Wang Lin felt a difference.

The three people before him—Han Tieshan was like a mountain, Shen Qingfeng like the wind, and Wen Yanghao like a snake.

Their sword intent was external, ostentatious, and easily seen through at a glance.

Luo Qinghe was different.

His sword intent was internalized, not leaking even a shred.

He stood there like an unsheathed sword...

You do not know how long, sharp, or fast it is; you only know that once it is drawn, it will certainly make you regret it.

Wang Lin's six Tentacles drifted slowly in the air without attacking proactively. Wang Lin was waiting.

Luo Qinghe moved; he simply took a step forward and then thrust his sword.

It was a very simple strike.

A straight thrust. No changes, no fancy flourishes, and no superfluous movements.

But Wang Lin's pupils shrank violently.

This sword strike was too fast.

It was the kind of fast where by the time you see it, it is already right in front of you.

The sword tip appeared directly in front of Wang Lin's throat from three meters away, as if space had been folded.

One of Wang Lin's Tentacles blocked it.

"Clang—"

The Tentacle and the sword tip collided, emitting a crisp sound.

Luo Qinghe's sword was deflected, but his expression did not change at all, as if being deflected was expected.

Wang Lin retracted his Tentacle and looked down; there was a shallow white mark on the surface of the Tentacle.

Luo Qinghe's strike had left a mark on the Vajra Transformation Tentacle.

Han Tieshan, Shen Qingfeng, and Wen Yanghao had fought for so long without leaving any marks on his Tentacles.

Luo Qinghe had done it with a single strike.

Wang Lin raised his head and looked at Luo Qinghe.

Luo Qinghe also looked at him; the two stared at each other for a second, and then Luo Qinghe thrust his sword again.

Still a straight thrust.

Still as simple.

Still as fast.

Wang Lin's two Tentacles met it simultaneously.

One to block, one to counterattack.

As Luo Qinghe's sword was parried, the other Tentacle had already thrust towards his chest.

Luo Qinghe's sword drew a small semicircle in the air, blocking the counterattacking Tentacle.

"Clang—" another crisp sound.

Then his sword slid along the surface of the Tentacle, the tip aiming straight for Wang Lin's face.

Wang Lin tilted his head, and the sword tip flew past his ear.

His four Tentacles moved simultaneously; two entangled Luo Qinghe's sword, and two attacked both sides of his body.

Luo Qinghe's sword vibrated violently, an explosive burst of energy erupting from the blade, shaking off the two entwining Tentacles.

He slightly leaned his body to avoid the attacks from the sides, his movements flowing like clouds and water, without a shred of excess.

The exchange between the two was completed in a flash; the people on the spectator stand only saw the flashing of sword light and the dancing of Tentacles, unable to see the specific movements at all.

Huo Yan clenched his fists tightly, staring at the center of the arena without blinking, afraid of missing even a single moment.

The girl with the ponytail covered her mouth, her eyes red, unsure if it was due to nervousness or excitement.

The instructors on the spectator stand all held their breath.

The people from the Council of Elders saw their complexions turn from livid to pale, not expecting that Wang Lin could actually block Luo Qinghe's attacks.

Song Zhengchu stood at the edge of the Martial Arts Arena, hands behind his back, his expression unchanged.

But his gaze never left Luo Qinghe's sword.

The battle between Wang Lin and Luo Qinghe continued.

Luo Qinghe's sword was getting faster and faster, the Speed changing; one strike was slow as a snail, the next fast as lightning, and the following one returned to normal Speed.

No pattern, no rhythm, no warning.

Wang Lin's six Tentacles were fully extended, forming an impenetrable defensive line in front of him.

Each Tentacle was executing a different saber technique; some blocking, some counterattacking, some feinting, and some defending.

Six saber techniques, six rhythms, six trajectories.

Luo Qinghe faced six Tentacles alone, equivalent to fighting six people simultaneously.

But he did not fall into a disadvantage. His sword wove between the Tentacles,

sometimes blocking one, sometimes deflecting two, and sometimes passing through the gaps of three to thrust directly at Wang Lin's main body.

Han Tieshan stood at the side of the arena, his hand holding his sword trembling.

He could see it... Luo Qinghe's sword technique was not on the same level as theirs.

Luo Qinghe usually trained with them and went on missions with them, never revealing this kind of strength; he had always been hiding it, always holding back.

Shen Qingfeng's face turned pale; his "Lightning Sword" was like a child waving a wooden stick in front of Luo Qinghe.