"This old man's bones are tough, I doubt you could chew them; your big teeth might fall out before you finish!" Roan teased with a confident smile.

Roan snorted, cold fury flashing in his eyes as he gripped his short sword with a lethal intent. His sword aura pulsed like a gathering storm, spreading a heavy sword intent around him, pressing on the tavern's charged atmosphere.

Ethan's own eyes sharpened. A fierce change washed over him in an instant. The sword intent he released solidified, coalescing into an invisible shield of energy compressing tightly around his body, bracing for the imminent clash.

Since the tavern was a battleground sacred to the Blood Tavern, neither would unleash their full strength outright—they compressed their fiercities, readying a duel focused purely on swordsmanship.

"I hear you're a physical cultivator," Roan spoke low and direct.

"Today, no spiritual energy—just weapons and body strength. No bullying."

"Bullying me?" Ethan chuckled, nodding. "Using your own weaknesses to match others advantages? You'll cry foul when you regret it!"

"You're an arrogant youth," Roan barked.

"May your power be half as mighty as your words!"

With that, Roan lunged forward, a wolf breaking from its den, wind whistling in his wake. The sharp blade in his hand cut the air, trailing glowing sword light vivid as lightning.

Ethan shifted gracefully. Despite the cramped tavern space, he evaded every slash and thrust, his movements fluid yet precise—each step conserving energy like a born tactician.

Observing quietly from the side, Crazy Blade Magnus had initially dismissed the duel as needless noise. But as the exchanges intensified, his curiosity sharpened.

Ethan's body control was exquisite—each dodged attack executed with the utmost delicacy. Though Roan lacked mastery in body cultivation, he was a master of sword intent transformation. Even without spiritual energy, his mastery of sword intent made him a formidable foe.

Yet Ethan moved as if effortlessly evading danger, as though Roan's fiercest strikes were mere whispers in the wind.

Dozens of moves passed, and Ethan remained undaunted, teasing rather than seriously challenging.

Magnus smiled knowingly—Ethan was not taking the fight seriously. His playful finesse frustrated Roan, who countered with ever more cunning strikes, some ablaze with real fire.

"Boy, can you only dodge?" Roan growled, "Like a turtle shrinking in its shell!"

"Roan's already losing," Magnus muttered.

The spectators gasped, puzzled—though Ethan's movements were deft, Roan was dictating the pace.

If Ethan persisted in dodging passively, Roan's relentless offense would soon find a fatal opening.

With a sharp step backward, Ethan decisively changed tactics. No longer defending, he drew his sword, Remnant Dream, its blade gleaming coldly.

He pointed a single finger along its edge, compressing his sword intent until it shrank like a contracting universe.

"The sword transforms the small world!" he declared mentally.

Suddenly, the dense sword aura burst forth, engulfing Roan in a shimmering, lethal miniature realm.

"Supreme Profound Sky Sword Technique—First Form!" Ethan shouted.

His calf struck the ground with explosive force, fracturing the stone beneath his feet.

Like a cheetah unleashed, he surged at Roan with stunning speed.

Excited murmurs erupted. "So fast!"

Roan's eyes narrowed. Could he truly not catch Ethan's swift movements? He realized his underestimation at once.

Though Ethan was a physical cultivator, his true realm lay in the Dharma Body realm, complemented by a complete ancient body refinement technique granting him incredible speed and power.

Despite wielding less than half his strength, Roan refused to concede.

Ethan's sword arced in a dazzling sweep—a sword light as brilliant as the late autumn sunset casting golden hues across fallen leaves, enveloping the tavern in an aura of solemn beauty and melancholy.

Roan swung frantically with his short sword, trying desperately to defend.

But time ran out.

Ethan's sword pressed cold steel to Roan's throat, claiming victory.

Defeated by a Dharma Body realm cultivator wielding pure physical power—no chant of spiritual energy, just raw strength.

Humiliation flashed across Roan's face, but he refused excuses.

"My young friend, your combat power in the Dharma Body realm is awe-inspiring. Your sword skills are polished, and your sword intent realm at transforming the world—it's simply unbelievable."

"The new generation is formidable, and this old man yields."

"If I had not underestimated you, I would not have been defeated so swiftly."

Ethan sheathed his sword with a modest nod.

"Thank you for your mercy, young friend."

Roan sank back into his seat, sipping his tea with defeated resignation.

"Ethan, correct?" a deep voice interrupted.

Ethan's gaze turned toward the window.

Standing there was the formidable eighth-turn Mahayana cultivator—the one he had watched from the moment he entered.

This man's aura surpassed even Oswin's, exuding overwhelming power and presence.

"Will you fight me?" the man asked, stepping in, his heavy sword thundering against the floor.

His eyes burned with anticipation, as though seeing a worthy challenge—or perhaps a delicious meal to devour.

"Magnus," someone cautioned, "forget it. Brother Ethan is still at the Dharma Body realm. The gap between your levels is vast. It's not kindness, but prudence."

"It's fine," Magnus said fiercely. "I can suppress my realm to match his. Let's just compete on sword skill."

Rain, the shopkeeper, raised her hand to calm the escalating tension. "Brother Ethan, please find a room upstairs to rest. Don't pay Magnus any mind. He's a battle maniac through and through, obsessed with fighting and killing."

"Little does he know, cultivation involves more than just fighting—it's about understanding human nature."

"If he were wiser, he wouldn't have been reduced to only the Blood Tavern willing to accept him."

Magnus clenched his fists tightly. "Cultivation means warring with heaven, earth, and man! Only through ceaseless battle can one ascend to the pinnacle of martial arts!"

Ethan frowned. "A battle maniac he may be, but hearing him fight every day would drive me mad."

"That's enough, Magnus. Please calm down. Your injuries from the battle with the dead wood ghost have not healed. Fighting now risks worsening your foundation."

"Besides, if Brother Ethan beats you in your current state, You will not be able _to_ find a place to hide your face," Rain added gently.

"..." Magnus frowned when he heard this and thought about it carefully.

A/N:

Extra chapters

100 power stones - 1 Extra chapters

200 power stones - 2 Extra chapters

Capsule - 1 Extra chapters

Massage Chair - 3 Extra chapters

Luxury Car - 5 Extra Chapters

Magic Castle - 15 Extra Chapters

...

Thanks for the Massage Chair: @Skarlet_Retro

If you find any errors ( broken links, non-standard content, etc.. ), Please let us know < report chapter > so we can fix it as soon as possible.