Chapter 11685 — That Alone Was Enough

That alone was enough to separate the superior from the inferior.

With a thunderous crash, the Sovereign of Song was driven back by a knee strike, retreating a full five meters.

Wei Zhao deliberately took note of the change in his opponent's True Mandate.

By his estimate, even if that knee strike could not strip away a full layer of True Mandate, it should have been more than enough to take half a layer.

Yet judging by the final result, it had merely worn away a sliver so faint it was almost imperceptible.

It was a far cry from what he had expected.

Wei Zhao understood in an instant: it seemed that True Mandate was tied not only to offensive paradigms but to defensive ones as well. So long as one's defensive paradigm was sound, never mind ten layers of True Mandate—even a single layer could be made impregnable.

But that only made Wei Zhao's burden heavier.

If the Sovereign of Song did nothing but dodge, then all he had to do was what Liu Han had done before—press him until there was nowhere left to retreat—and there would be every chance of stripping away his True Mandate.

But now that his opponent had begun to defend in earnest, it was an entirely different matter.

What followed confirmed Wei Zhao's thinking.

No matter how savagely he attacked, the Sovereign of Song defended without a single gap, granting him not the slightest opening.

Watching from the sidelines, Shi Wushuang grew secretly anxious: "Isn't this just cheating? He holds Liu Han and Wei Zhao to two completely different standards!"

Beside her, however, King Di Xuan smiled. "According to the academy's rules, instructors may set the intensity of the selection at their own discretion. There is no stipulation that all candidates must be treated alike. Junior Sister Wushuang, are you perhaps suggesting the academy's rule is wrong?"

Shi Wushuang could only shut her mouth.

Once the regulations of the Heavenly Dao Academy were involved, this was no longer something a person of her standing could freely comment on.

Still, judging by how he had behaved three days ago, the Sovereign of Song had shown no sign of singling Wei Zhao out—if anything, he had extended a certain degree of goodwill. So why had he suddenly turned ruthless now?

No one knew what the Sovereign of Song was really thinking, but compared with how he had treated Liu Han moments ago, he was plainly stricter with Wei Zhao—anyone with eyes could see that clearly.

Whatever the case, Di Liankong was thoroughly enjoying himself.

He looked toward Ye Yinxiao. "Miss Ye, it is not too late to change your decision."

The crowd was astonished.

Ye Yinxiao might have been the first candidate to manifest True Mandate, but in the end she had only a single layer of it. In their eyes, that amounted to no more than good luck; her strength was far from exceptional.

At best, she was cannon fodder.

For Di Liankong to go to such lengths to court her was entirely unnecessary.

In truth, if anyone in the crowd's eyes was most likely to be eliminated in this second round, Ye Yinxiao was—if not a hundred percent certain, then unquestionably among the top few.

Di Liankong, however, clearly saw it differently.

It was not that he thought highly of Ye Yinxiao's strength; he simply wished to strike at Wei Zhao through this gesture.

Ye Yinxiao herself did not matter. Since she had chosen to side with Wei Zhao, she had acquired united-front value in Di Liankong's eyes.

Even if she were eliminated this very round, she would have fulfilled her purpose—making use of waste, as it were.

Ye Yinxiao answered with unwavering certainty: "Many thanks for your kind offer, Brother Di, but I think highly of Wei Zhao's strength, and I sincerely wish to be his teammate. I cannot go back on my word at a time like this."

At these words, the crowd curled their lips.

"Wei Zhao can barely save himself, and she's still clinging to his leg—women really are short-sighted."

A gaunt man spoke up mockingly: "Even if you want to cling to someone's leg, you should at least know your own weight, shouldn't you? The likes of you couldn't help with anything. If I were Wei Zhao, I wouldn't even spare you a glance."

Someone nearby chimed in with further jeers: "The real problem is she isn't even good-looking. She can't provide so much as a shred of emotional value. For a female cultivator to sink to this level—what's even the point?"

The crowd roared with laughter.

The words were harsh, but to be fair, any female cultivator who had reached a certain cultivation realm was never plain. Even if they were not all beauties to topple cities, they were at the very least comely—after all, they had the chance to reshape their figures and features.

Compared with female cultivators of the same realm, Ye Yinxiao's looks could indeed only be called rather ordinary.

To be precise, she could even be considered homely.

Ye Yinxiao offered no rebuttal, nor did she show the slightest trace of anger. She simply watched the arena with a calm face.

Seeing this, Di Liankong's eyes turned cold, and he said nothing further.

In his eyes, Ye Yinxiao was ultimately just a minor piece. It hardly mattered if she would not play along; since she was determined to be a stumbling block beneath his feet, he would simply kick her aside.

By now, the exchanges between Wei Zhao and the Sovereign of Song in the arena had grown ever more ferocious and razor-sharp, striking terror into the hearts of all who watched.

But no matter how savagely Wei Zhao attacked, the Sovereign of Song defended without a single gap, granting him not the slightest opening.

Everyone present was of stout heart, yet had any of them stood in Wei Zhao's place at that moment, they would likely have been driven to despair.

There was no help for it: the Sovereign of Song stood there like a towering mountain. However you climbed, the moment you looked back you would find yourself still at the foot of the slope—the distance to the summit not only unshrunken but seemingly ever greater. Anyone would break down.

Yet Wei Zhao, for all that his onslaught grew fiercer by the moment, radiated nothing but composure—neither arrogant nor impatient.

There was not the slightest sign of discouragement.

Then the Sovereign of Song suddenly spoke: "You've tested your moves on me about long enough, haven't you? Shall we begin in earnest?"

"He was testing his moves?"

The crowd started awake at these words. Only now did they suddenly realize that Wei Zhao had not displayed any trump-card ability comparable to Liu Han's bone bombs.

Whatever opinions they held of Wei Zhao, they shared at least a baseline judgment.

Wei Zhao was no simple character.

As the first among them to choose a jade talisman, the trump card in his hand could not possibly be inferior to theirs—it could only be stronger.

Wei Zhao replied, "It's not really testing moves. I just needed to get used to this body."

As his words fell, a flash of dark crimson lightning suddenly streaked past.

The crowd had not even registered what had happened. They sensed only a flicker of dark red light—and then the world fell silent.

"What just happened..."

Looking again at the Sovereign of Song, they saw that only eight layers of True Mandate remained upon him.

The entire crowd was struck dumb.

He had hammered away for so long without breaking through the defense, and then in the blink of an eye it was simply done—wasn't that turn a little too fast?

Everyone turned to look at Di Liankong in unison.

This scene was completely at odds with the countermeasure they had agreed upon beforehand.

Di Liankong's face turned as black as the bottom of a pot.

If it were merely a matter of Wei Zhao pulling off a lucky steal, that would have been one thing—after all, the situation changed by the second, and any accident was possible.