Jared’s lip curled, disdain rolling off him like drifting frost.

He slid the Dragonslayer Sword back into his item pouch and said, “Fine. No blades. I’ll beat you with my bare hands. When I do, what excuse will you cling to then?” Rylan blinked, then a delighted madness lit his eyes. “You’re serious—no weapons at all?” To Rylan, the only reason Jared had defeated Martin and shattered his silver spear was that divine weapon. Strip the weapon away, and an Earthly Immortal Realm Level One—no matter how quick—should never threaten someone of Rylan’s might.

“Every word is true,” Jared said, rolling his wrist as though loosening a stiff hinge. “The stake stays the same—one million celestial gems. If that scares you, concede now. Simply hand me one million celestial gems, and we are done.” “Scared?” Rylan barked. “I fear nothing!” Golden spiritual energy erupted from Rylan’s body like sunfire flooding the martial arts arena. He made no effort to contain it, letting the full fury of an Earthly Immortal Realm Level Eight squeeze the air itself. Clenching both fists, he forged twin orbs of blinding light. “You asked for this, brat. Don’t blame me when you’re broken.” At the edge, Yuliana’s brows knitted. She had witnessed Jared’s strength, yet Rylan was not only an Earthly Immortal Realm Level Eight—he carried Draconian blood. Without weapons, Jared might find no easy advantage against that strong physical body.

“Take this!” Rylan streaked forward in a golden flash, fists hammering down for Jared’s skull with force enough to tear mountains. He poured all of his spiritual energy into that opening salvo, determined to reclaim his honor with a single, crushing blow.

Around them, members of the Imperial Guard gasped in astonishment. The pressure rolling off that strike could have flattened a hill; flesh and bone would fare far worse.

Jared’s face remained untroubled.

He planted his feet, dropped his center of gravity, and let his own spiritual energy flow-slow, deliberate, impossibly dense for a first-tier realm.