"Don’t worry about Second Senior Sister. After she was injured last time, she became extremely diligent in her training, as if she had suddenly gained enlightenment. She’s already fully mastered the Primordial Thirty-Six Forms Swordsmanship.

Even if she can’t defeat her opponent in this match, she can still retreat unscathed."

Seeing Chen Ping step forward, staring intently at the martial arena with undivided attention, his eyes filled with genuine concern, the young disciple who had just been conversing felt a sense of kinship and eagerly joined him, grinning, "Our Second Senior Sister of the Primordial Martial Arts Hall is very kind. Admirers of hers could line up all the way down Fireworks Alley.

If you want to learn swordsmanship, after this match, I can introduce you a little. As for any other thoughts, it’s best to keep them to yourself..."

Although you look a bit handsome, Second Senior Sister is not the type to judge people by appearances. She’s not interested in you, so give up, brother.

Chen Ping was slightly taken aback, then smiled, "I see, it seems you are also one of those who admire Second Senior Sister. I didn’t realize."

He pointed to the martial arena and fell silent.

The two in the arena had already exchanged fist salutes, and the tension was building.

"Is there no one left in the Primordial Martial Arts Hall? They even send a woman to fight. Let me be clear, Tong never holds back under his sword, regardless of whether you are male or female, all are treated equally."

A trace of cruelty flashed in Tong Biao’s eyes. He licked his lips, and the little finger of the hand holding the sword twitched slightly, a greater murderous intent emanating from him.

"Don’t be arrogant, if you have the skill, feel free to take my life, but your Changkong Martial Arts Hall disciples have injured my junior brother several times, I’ve remembered it all."

Usually gentle and soft-spoken, once Han Xiaoru drew her sword, she seemed like a completely different person. Her figure leaped like a fierce tiger, her sword momentum sweeping round, roaring as it whipped up a hurricane.

Born of the sword came momentum, born of momentum came might.

Han Xiaoru’s strike was even more imposing than when Senior Brother Zhang Gu of the Primordial Martial Arts Hall made his move.

It made one’s heart slightly chill.

Some even imagined themselves as her opponent, only to realize that whether using nimble dodging techniques or engaging in direct confrontation, neither seemed quite appropriate.

At the very first move, one would inevitably be forced to a disadvantage.

This was an innate heroism, unrelated to swordsmanship or strength, but linked only to one’s character.

On the battlefield, she would be a peerless general, certain in both attack and decision.

Such a delicate young woman wielding a sword with such prowess was eye-opening and naturally instilled admiration.

There were cheers from all sides.

’Indeed, her swordsmanship has achieved greatness.’

Chen Ping raised an eyebrow as he watched.

He recalled when the Straw Hat Man’s Clear Wind Shadowless Sword had cornered him into a fluster, and Han Xiaoru descended from the heavens with heroic elegance... At that time, she was fearless, a fierce presence.

Compared to back then, Han Xiaoru now was not only fierce but also steady.

Her advance looked relentless, yet each step was executed with steady precision.

The sword’s momentum carved circles, its weight and force roaring, covering the four feet in front of her, with the wind howling, forming an almost impenetrable defense.

Opposite her, Tong Biao’s style was completely different.

This person was not very tall, shorter than Han Xiaoru by a head, yet his sword strikes were sporadic, attacking erratically, seemingly devoid of any method.

Strangely, as he displayed his Seven Stars Sword and moved skillfully, Han Xiaoru’s sword circle became smaller and harder to maneuver.

"How could this be?"

"This Seven-Star Sword is off..."

Those watching from the sidelines had keen eyes and noticed something was wrong.

Not just off.

Although Tong Biao used a similar Seven Stars Swordsmanship, he did not demonstrate greater lethality, yet still managed to constantly restrain Han Xiaoru’s Primordial Sword Techniques.

It was as if Han Xiaoru’s large sword was merely hacking at air, occasionally even exposing her neck and wrists to his sword.

Though she charged and struck with ferocity, her sword momentum round and seamless, there was an unsettling air of danger.

Han Xiaoru clearly noticed something amiss too and decided not to seek advantage, only aiming to avoid mistakes.

The sword circle contracted into a smaller circle, her arms retracted, adopting a stance of Iron Locks Cross the River, with tight defense.

No longer did her great sword swing wide; it bounced subtly, crossing and probing three feet in front of her, transitioning from offence to defense.

"Good."

A chorus of cheers erupted again.

Truly, Han Xiaoru’s graceful figure and commanding, beautiful swordsmanship offered an extreme contrast to seeing a delicate woman wielding a massive sword.

Among those present, even those not from the Primordial Martial Arts Hall, watching her swordplay transform and evolve induced a vertiginous exhilaration.

For a moment, they forgot that the match on the stage not only decided victory or defeat, but entailed life-and-death stakes.

"No more attacks, then it’s my turn."

Tong Biao’s gaze sharpened, and his previously light swordplay suddenly became exceedingly sharp.

A move of Shaking Light Sword had just reached Han Xiaoru’s wrist, and before her large sword could block it, he transitioned into the Merak Sword Technique.

The sword momentum circled back, slashing towards his opponent’s neck...

The sword’s momentum was quick and urgent, always attacking first.

It seemed he already anticipated what move Han Xiaoru would use next, where she would attack and where she would defend.

In a moment, the sound of the sword whistles increased...

In just seven moves, Han Xiaoru was already mentally exhausted, sweat beading on her forehead.

She considered that her opponent might compare swordsmanship, cultivation, or even defense with her.

Yet she hadn’t anticipated that, from beginning to end, her opponent never engaged in a direct confrontation.

Her sword never once clashed with his long sword.