Mystic Eyes: My Eyes Steal the Laws of Cultivation Chapter 317: Final Phase (7)

The judge lifted his hand.

"Mo Tianhai of the Verdant Sword against Mu Qing of the Ancient Forest!"

With steady steps, Mo Tianhai advanced into the arena. A grave look etched his face, yet his gaze burned with fierce excitement. At last, a genuine battle. A proper challenger.

Mu Qing stood poised in the arena's heart, ready and waiting.

The Ancient Forest disciple towered tall and lean, his dark green locks swaying gently as if stirred by an unseen breeze. His robe blended greens and browns, adorned with intricate leaf and branch patterns. No weapon showed in sight, though thin layers of vibrant wood encased his hands.

"It will be an honor to face you." Mu Qing declared, his tone serene like flowing water.

Mo Tianhai let out a bold, hearty laugh.

"The honor will be mine. Don’t hold back."

The judge signaled the start.

"You may begin!"

Mo Tianhai struck without delay. His devastating sword intent erupted from him like a formless blast. The surrounding air warped, and fine fissures cracked the arena's wooden surface despite the shielding runes struggling to hold it together.

He launched the assault.

A direct cleave, brimming with keen Qi and ruinous force, hurtled at Mu Qing akin to a massive unseen edge.

Mu Qing held his ground.

His right hand lifted, summoning a barrier of vital wood from the arena floor that surged upward to full human height in moments. Dark and compact, it pulsed with eerie green luminescence.

Mo Tianhai’s cleave crashed into the barrier.

A thunderous boom echoed. Wood shards exploded outward. The barrier quaked, fissures racing over it, yet it endured unbroken.

Mu Qing twitched his fingers, and the barrier mended itself right away, as though time flowed backward.

"Living wood." A voice whispered from the spectator seats.

"He’s wielding wood Qi at its purest. With Qi present, the wood keeps healing."

Mo Tianhai’s eyes sharpened.

"Interesting."

Another assault followed. Now not single, but a trio of successive cleaves, growing fiercer with each one.

Mu Qing lifted both palms. Three wooden barriers rose in sequence, layered protectively.

The initial cleave shattered the front barrier. The next demolished the middle one, though weakened. The final cleave hit the last barrier and halted, failing to pierce fully through.

"My turn." Mu Qing stated evenly.

He clapped his hands, unleashing scores of razor-sharp wooden lances from the ground encircling Mo Tianhai, thrusting at him from every direction.

Mo Tianhai whirled his sword, whipping up a maelstrom of destructive Qi to shield himself. The wooden lances crumbled to powder mid-flight, dispersing as fine mist in the breeze.

Yet Mu Qing pressed onward.

He charged at Mo Tianhai, his hands now tipped with blade-like wooden talons. His footfalls were featherlight and hushed, his pace shockingly swift.

Mo Tianhai sought to pull back, but Mu Qing closed in too rapidly. The wooden talons raked across Mo Tianhai’s arm, shredding his robe and drawing blood from the flesh below.

Crimson spilled forth.

Mo Tianhai clenched his jaw and retaliated with a sweeping horizontal cleave, unleashing his full destructive intent in a broad surge.

Mu Qing vaulted away, though the cleave clipped him. He folded his arms, summoning a sturdy wooden shell over his body and limbs.

The cleave hammered the wooden shield.

Fragments splintered across the shell, shoving Mu Qing back several paces, with trickles of blood seeping from minor gashes on his arms. Still, he remained upright.

"Strong." Mu Qing conceded, eyeing his wounds.

"Your sword intent is truly formidable."

Mo Tianhai panted hard. Every strike drained vast amounts of Qi. He couldn’t sustain it much longer.

"But not strong enough." Mu Qing concluded.

His right hand stretched skyward.

"Ancestral Forest Technique. Living Wood Prison!"

The arena shuddered. Massive roots erupted under Mo Tianhai’s feet from nowhere, wrapping his legs, body, and arms like colossal serpents forged of iron.

Mo Tianhai slashed at them with his destructive intent. The roots quivered, some snapping, but fresh ones sprouted instantly to replace them. It felt like severing a raging river’s flow.

"Destroy one, and ten are born." Mu Qing intoned.

"These roots link straight to the Qi of the Ancient Tree. While I possess Qi, they persist endlessly."

Mo Tianhai ground his teeth. Channeling every last drop of Qi, he forged a supreme downward cleave meant to rend all in its path.

The ethereal blade fell.

Roots cleaved asunder. The arena quaked. Even the protective runes flared brightly, on the verge of collapse.

But Mu Qing had shifted position.

The moment the cleave unleashed, he materialized behind Mo Tianhai, wooden talons poised at his foe’s neck.

"You lost." Mu Qing pronounced, voice steady as ever.

Mo Tianhai stood frozen in place. Dodging was impossible now. The powerful strike he had just released had drained almost all his remaining strength.

He let out a deep sigh, slowly lowering his sword.

"I lost."

The judge declared loudly.

"The winner is Mu Qing of the Ancient Forest!"

Thunderous applause filled the air from the crowd. That clash had truly showcased two supreme fighters.

Stumbling off the arena platform, Mo Tianhai clutched his arms riddled with deep gashes and ugly bruises. Kyrian stood ready at the exit, waiting for him.

"You fought well," Kyrian said.

"Well my ass," Mo Tianhai replied with a bitter smile.

"He destroyed me."

Mo Tianhai burst into laughter, but it swiftly morphed into a harsh, dry cough. Disciples from the Ancient Forest hurried over and carried him away for medical treatment.

Kyrian shifted his gaze back toward the arena.

The climactic battle was on the verge of starting.

This was the showdown between Huo Ling and the disciple from the Wind Sect.

The spectators exploded with fervor. Huo Ling ranked among the top favorites to claim the whole tournament crown, right alongside Kyrian. Conversely, the Wind Sect girl remained a mysterious figure—swift and nimble—yet doubts swirled if she could withstand the crushing might of the second-ranked powerhouse.

Both fighters ascended to the arena stage.

Huo Ling towered high, his hair blazing red like molten lava, eyes glowing with a fierce heat that scorched the very atmosphere. His sword stretched long and curved, its edge gleaming as though forged from pure, solid flame.

The Wind Sect girl appeared petite and sleek, silver hair drifting ethereally like strands caught in an underwater current. She bore no weapons at all. Though her hands lay bare, turbulent whirlwinds churned visibly in the air encircling her.

"You may begin!"