Chapter 133: Jin Shenxi

The semi-finals on the two battle platforms were fierce and spectacular. Over ten thousand spectators in the stands were cheering fervently. Since the news of Du Long’s advancement to the finals broke that morning, more curious onlookers had rushed in from the capital, among them Du Long’s parents, Du Zhentian and his wife.

Sitting alongside high-ranking imperial officials, the couple watched their precious son spar against the Second Prince of the Empire with a mix of shock and delight. They had never imagined that their son could hold his own against the Second Prince, who had reached the peak of the ninth stage of the Qi Cyclone. Like everyone else, they worried that their son, whom they had rarely disciplined in a long time, might have started recklessly consuming Grade Two Spirit Liquid now that he had money.

On the platform, although Du Long executed the "Double-Wave" effect with every strike, his base combat strength was still significantly lower. While he compensated for this gap with his superior speed and physical resilience, he remained on the defensive. By all logic, he should have utilized his speed to avoid the brunt of his opponent's attacks and defeat him from the flanks. Yet, for some inexplicable reason, Du Long chose to clash head-on time and time again. This reckless fighting style not only made the spectators shake their heads in disapproval but also secretly delighted the Second Prince, who felt the scales of victory tipping in his favor.

With every collision, while launching his own attacks, Du Long focused entirely on internalizing the mechanics of the "Triple-Wave" strike from his mind, refining his technique to align with it. He finally understood why the spirit-guide beauty had repeatedly told him he wasn't good enough whenever he mastered the Double-Wave. During his duel with the Second Prince, even when he failed to simulate the Triple-Wave, his subconscious would naturally fall back into the rhythm of the Double-Wave. This meant he had perfectly etched the essence of the Double-Wave into his muscle memory, ensuring that even if he struggled with the Triple-Wave, he wouldn't end up with nothing—he wouldn't lose his mastery of the Double-Wave while attempting to learn the new technique.

*Boom! Boom! Boom!*

Despite the disparity in strength, Du Long darted around the Second Prince like a phantom, initiating attack after attack with such speed that the audience struggled to keep up.

*Boom!*

Suddenly, in a strike that appeared no different from the others, the power doubled twice in succession by some stroke of fortune. Du Long’s fist collided heavily with the Second Prince. A massive surge of energy surged through his fist; the "Xuan Yang Triple-Wave" did not merely multiply power by three, but increased it vectorially—doubling once, then doubling again!

The force exploded to four times his base combat strength—twice the power of a standard Xuan Yang Double-Wave. The sheer impact caught the unprepared Second Prince off guard, sending him flying backward.

Du Long, stunned for a fleeting moment by his own success, realized the Second Prince’s defenses were wide open. He didn't waste the opportunity. Accelerating with his "Wind-Walk" footwork, he chased after him like a phantom. The Second Prince, reeling from the blow, was shocked and knew he was in trouble. He struggled to regain control of his balance while desperately trying to fend off Du Long’s onslaught. Unfortunately, regaining one's footing after such a powerful knockback is no easy task.

Before he could stabilize, Du Long had closed the distance and launched a storm of attacks. The relentless barrage made it impossible for the Second Prince to regain his composure. Moreover, the previous strike had clearly injured his right hand, further diminishing his ability to resist. Having been driven to the edge of the platform, he was ultimately forced off, losing the semi-final.

A massive roar erupted from the crowd. They had been certain the Second Prince held the upper hand, only to watch him suddenly lose control and be forced off the stage. That Du Long, a freshman who had only just entered his second year, had managed to reach the semi-finals was already a surprise; that he had now stormed into the finals—and appeared unscathed—was truly astounding.

After the referee announced the results, Du Long ignored the disgruntled Second Prince and walked off the stage, turning his attention to the other ongoing match. There, Wei Yiran, cousin of Wei Yiming, was battling a haughty-looking stranger. Both were at the peak of the ninth stage of the Qi Cyclone. After a long struggle, it was clear that Wei Yiran was slightly inferior. When base combat strengths are equal, victory is decided by cultivation techniques, physical resilience, and speed. Just as Du Long, despite his sixth-stage base, could defeat ninth-stage opponents through other advantages, it was clear that the spirit-guide beauty’s training methods were far more effective.

*Boom!*

A few steps after leaving his own stage, Du Long saw Wei Yiran’s solid defense crumble due to an inexplicable opening. The stranger seized the opportunity and forced him off the stage with a single, powerful attack.

"Hahaha! Is the Haotian Empire truly devoid of talent?" Having successfully knocked Wei Yiran off the stage, the arrogant man let out a wild laugh and began to boast. He pointed directly at Du Long, who had just stepped off his own platform. "This is laughable! The prestigious Imperial Academy of the Haotian Empire actually has a sixth-stage freshman in the finals! Kid, watch how I deal with you later! Hahaha!" With that, he leaped off the stage and swaggered toward the competitors' lounge.

Glaring at the man’s retreating back with cold eyes, Du Long hurried to Wei Yiran’s side and helped him up. "Brother Yiran! Who is that arrogant guy? His accent doesn't sound like he's from our Haotian Empire!"

"Sigh," Wei Yiran sighed. "His name is Jin Shenxi. He is the Seventh Prince of the Blue Moon Empire. He has always looked down on the people of our Haotian Empire."

"The Seventh Prince of the Blue Moon Empire?" Du Long’s heart skipped a beat. "Brother Yiran, I saw that although you were on the defensive, you shouldn't have lost so quickly. How did you suddenly leave such a wide opening?"

"I am just as confused," Wei Yiran replied, his face filled with bewilderment. "Everything was fine, but suddenly I felt dizzy, and then... this happened."

"Du Long!" The spirit-guide beauty’s voice rang out at the perfect moment. "That guy used poison. A colorless, odorless powder. He must have taken an antidote himself."

"How shameless!" Du Long was furious, his voice echoing in his mind.

"Indeed, and he has the nerve to mock the Haotian Empire for having no talent," the beauty replied with disdain.

"Ling'er, can you detect what kind of poison it is? Is there a way to counter it?" Now that he knew the man was playing dirty, Du Long didn't want to fall victim to the same trick.

"Such child's play is embarrassing to even look at! Hmph! Of course, I have ways to guard against it. By the way, since he is so underhanded, why don't we play a little trick on him as well?"

"What do you have in mind?" Du Long asked, intrigued.

The beauty briefly explained her plan. Though Du Long felt it was perhaps not entirely honorable, the thought of the Seventh Prince's treachery washed away any hesitation.

After resting in the lounge for half an hour, Du Long was summoned by the academy mentors to step out and participate in the final showdown.