Volume One, Chapter 17: You Wouldn’t Be Afraid, Would You?

As soon as those words were spoken, it was like a stone cast into a still lake, instantly stirring ripples across the surface.

The crowd around them began whispering, murmuring among themselves, their gazes flickering back and forth between Ye Chen and Jiang Wu.

“Ye Chen, you wouldn’t dare back down, would you?” The words cut through the thick air like a sharp blade, tinged with mockery and challenge, clearly audible amidst the bustling crowd.

The speaker’s lips curled into a barely perceptible cold smile, eyes gleaming with anticipation for the spectacle about to unfold.

“Exactly! Senior Brother Jiang is even willing to lower his cultivation to the Tongmai Realm just to fight you. You, Ye Chen, won’t even accept such a small challenge, will you?” Another voice followed swiftly, like pouring fuel on a fire, laden with doubt about Ye Chen’s courage and resolve, as if any hesitation would brand him a coward.

The murmurs swelled, some carrying a threatening edge, others merely eager to watch the drama unfold. They all seemed to be waiting for Ye Chen’s response, ready to push this sudden confrontation to its climax.

Yet just when everyone thought Ye Chen was cornered, preparing to see how he would struggle, he shattered the tense atmosphere in a way no one expected.

“If you want to fight, fight. I still need to rest first.”

His voice was calm and resolute, free from any wavering, as if stating the simplest of facts.

The once noisy crowd fell silent instantly, as if frozen by an invisible force. Every face was etched with shock and confusion.

Beside him, Jiang Wu was equally caught off guard by Ye Chen’s reaction.

The teasing glint in his eyes slowly faded, replaced by a subtle, inscrutable expression.

In his eyes, the Ye Chen of old—the prodigy once shining gloriously within the Sword Sect, now reduced to a cripple by fate—would never so easily forgo any chance to prove himself.

The faces of the surrounding disciples began to lose composure, whispers rising again, this time tinged with awkwardness and dissatisfaction. “Ye Chen, you actually refuse the Sword Child’s challenge!” “Yeah, who do you think you are? Just an ordinary disciple, yet you dare to be so disrespectful!”

But just as Jiang Wu was about to step over the threshold, a strange flicker of light suddenly flashed inside the room, like a meteor streaking through the night, instantly capturing his full attention.

It was a swiftly moving shadow, but strangely, only Ye Yao was supposed to be inside—so why was there an extra silhouette?

A sharp unease gripped Ye Chen’s heart, a foreboding sense rising within him.

He spun around abruptly, with such speed it seemed even the air trembled.

Those deep eyes now shone like the brightest stars in the night sky, flashing with a piercing intensity as they locked onto Jiang Wu amid the crowd.

Jiang Wu stood there with a near-provocative stance, a meaningful curve playing at his lips, a smile that held both anticipation of Ye Chen’s reaction and an unspoken depth.

Their eyes clashed fiercely in the air, like colliding stars, sparkling with complexity and profound meaning, as if countless words were exchanged in silence.

From those familiar eyes, Ye Chen read Jiang Wu’s unwavering resolve: “You, Ye Chen, today you must fight me no matter what.”

A whirlwind of emotions churned inside Ye Chen—displeasure at Jiang Wu’s blatant provocation, helplessness at not being free to decide whether to accept the challenge.

His gaze flickered across the crowd, searching among the dense figures for any sign of Ye Yao, secretly wondering if she had been secretly taken hostage by Jiang Wu’s men.

That worry weighed on his heart like a great stone, impossible to shake.

Yet, facing Jiang Wu’s relentless pressure, Ye Chen took a deep breath, striving to calm the storm within.

He slowly exhaled a breath of stale air, his eyes growing steady and cold, as if in that moment he reached a decision.

He thought to himself, “Fine, you want a fight? I’ll give you one. If you were at the Sovereign Sky Realm, I might fear you. But you think that by suppressing yourself to the early Tongmai Realm, you can be my match?”

Though his voice was soft, it carried a determination that could not be underestimated.

He knew this battle was not merely a response to Jiang Wu’s challenge—it was a proof of himself. He would show everyone that Ye Chen, once a brilliant Sword Child seed, had never truly fallen; his pride and glory would not be trampled by anyone.

Then, he declared loudly, “Very well, Jiang Wu, I will fight you.”

His voice was clear and firm, resonating through the crowd and drawing out gasps of surprise.

Jiang Wu smiled with satisfaction, his response straightforward and refreshing: “Good.”

Between them seemed to surge an invisible power, isolating everything around them.

The disciples nearby grew increasingly excited—they had long wanted to see just how much strength remained in this once-promising Sword Child seed.

In truth, their secret hope was to witness the fall of this former prodigy, satisfying their morbid curiosity about the demise of the strong.

Soon, Ye Chen and Jiang Wu stood facing each other, about a yard apart, under the watchful eyes of all.

Their auras soared to their peak, as if a thrilling duel could erupt at any moment.

“Senior Brother, the third match of the Sword Child seed competition, which we never fought before, we settle it today.” Jiang Wu’s voice was low and powerful, like a resonant ancient bell echoing through the deserted courtyard, laying a thick layer of tension over this long-delayed duel.

Ye Chen merely nodded gently, his deep eyes ablaze with fighting spirit and determination.

He knew well this battle was not only about personal honor—it was a test of his cultivation path, demanding his utmost effort with no margin for failure.

“Begin.” A disciple clad in blue stood between them, holding a long sword, acting as referee.

Though his voice was soft, it struck like thunder, instantly igniting the fuse of the duel.

At the referee’s command, Ye Chen’s figure flickered, transforming into a streak of bloody lightning. With a swift grasp into the void, a crimson spear appeared in his hand, its tip shimmering with a chilling gleam, aimed directly at Jiang Wu.

He surged forward like a tiger descending the mountain, carrying an unstoppable momentum, charging at Jiang Wu.

Yet Jiang Wu remained remarkably composed. Standing firm like a rock, hands clasped behind his back, he regarded Ye Chen’s furious assault with a nearly mocking gaze.

Clearly, he had absolute confidence in himself. Even with his cultivation suppressed to the Tongmai Realm, he believed he could easily defeat Ye Chen.