Volume One: A Youth Enters the World Chapter Fifty-Six: The Life and Death Platform

As Fang Tian pondered how to ask his questions clearly, he noticed the crowd around him converging in one direction.
“What’s going on?”
Curiosity stirred within him. He grabbed a passerby, hoping to learn what was happening.
The stranger felt the tug and turned back, but before Fang Tian could speak, he wore a look of impatience and snapped,
“What do you want? If you have something to say, make it quick.”
Hearing the tone, Fang Tian felt a touch of embarrassment, realizing his action had been somewhat rude. He clasped his hands in a gesture of respect and replied, “Brother, I merely wish to know where everyone is rushing off to. I’m curious—could you enlighten me?”
Seeing Fang Tian’s courteous manner, the man softened his expression and answered,
“Since you don’t know, I’ll tell you.”
“Thank you.”
The man waved dismissively. “At the Life-and-Death Platform, Lang Qing and Bai Yifan from the Hunter Rankings are about to duel. It’s rare to see two masters face off, so everyone is heading there.”
Fang Tian nodded. “So that’s it.”
“Anything else? If not, I’ll be on my way.” With that, the man strode off without another glance.
“A duel between two masters? Interesting.” Fang Tian murmured to himself.
Having heard this, and recalling that most cultivators he’d encountered had already fallen to his hand, the mention of ‘masters’ stirred his innate competitiveness.
It was also a chance to learn about different cultivators, to see what the crowd called ‘masters’ had to offer—knowledge that would surely benefit him as he traveled the continent.
“The more you see and hear, the better,” Old Tian chimed in.
Fang Tian nodded. His original plan to visit the Spirit Tool Pavilion was postponed, and he joined the flow of people heading toward the Life-and-Death Platform.
Once there, Fang Tian found a spot near the front to wait, listening to those nearby who said the two duelists would soon arrive.
After a short while—
“They’re here, they’re here! Lang Qing has arrived!”
Hearing the shout, Fang Tian set his eyes on the entrance to the platform. He saw a burly man approach the stage, emanating a powerful aura. Fang Tian mentally compared himself: had he not awakened his spiritual power, he would have struggled to match this man.

Fang Tian was amazed. Compared to the cultivators he’d encountered before, they truly paled in comparison. Even now, his own strength was only slightly above Lang Qing’s, a revelation that broadened his horizons.
“Look! Bai Yifan is here, too!”
Fang Tian turned to the other side. A scholar-like figure appeared, frail in appearance, yet the aura he emitted was no weaker than Lang Qing’s—perhaps even stronger. Truly, appearances could be deceiving.
The two faced each other atop the Life-and-Death Platform, and the crowd below fell silent in anticipation.
Bai Yifan closed his folding fan, looked to Lang Qing, and asked, “Did you bring it?”
Lang Qing said nothing, and with a wave of spiritual power, produced the bounty notice from thin air. He directed it onto a table near the platform, then calmly said to Bai Yifan, “We can begin.”
Bai Yifan nodded. “I fear this bounty notice will end up in my hands.”
Lang Qing snorted coldly. “Try it, then!”
With that, both men unleashed their spiritual power and charged at each other.
Fang Tian watched the bounty notice, recalling what he’d learned about such items; he understood their motives well.
His gaze was fixed on the two atop the platform—he would carefully observe this duel.
After a brief exchange of blows, both men retreated a few steps, locking eyes. Suddenly, Lang Qing’s body erupted with blood-red spiritual energy, which he channeled into his massive crimson blade. The blade’s hue deepened, and a chilling aura radiated from its surface.
Those standing close to the platform involuntarily shivered at the cold.
The crowd gasped at the display:
“Is that his signature martial art, Crimson Moon Blood Technique?”
“I’ve heard it’s an upper-tier earth level skill, but at its peak rivals lower-tier heaven level techniques.”
“Yes, when Lang Qing acquired this martial art, others coveted it and hunted him relentlessly. He grew stronger by mastering it, slaying his pursuers. The scar on his face was left during a reversal kill.”
“Most of those who hunted him were fugitives from the bounty list. That’s why Lang Qing despises those on the list. After his strength soared, he became a hunter, specializing in tracking down fugitives. In just two years, he’s risen to tenth on the Hunter Rankings—remarkable.”
“Look! He’s about to strike!”
Now, Lang Qing’s blood energy surged, cracking the ground beneath him. His once-dark eyes gradually took on a crimson sheen.
Bai Yifan held his fan with both hands, looking almost indifferent, as if unconcerned. He smiled lightly at the corner of his mouth:

“Brother Lang Qing, resorting to full strength so soon?”
“Bai Yifan, even a lion uses its full strength against a rabbit. Facing you, how could I not?”
“Very well, since you regard me so highly, I must take this seriously.”
At his words, the air around Bai Yifan roiled with pale green spiritual energy, swirling about his folding fan until it formed a spear of pure spirit power, radiating the force of a tempest.
The crowd’s eyes widened at Bai Yifan’s transformation.
“No way—is that the Wind Spirit Technique?”
“I’ve heard it can shape spiritual power into forms—very formidable.”
“But that technique exists only in that place. So—he’s from there? No wonder he’s so ruthless and unrestrained.”
“Hush—!”
“Yes, yes, best not to speak of it.”
At that moment, as if by prior agreement, Lang Qing no longer waited. He swung his blade at Bai Yifan,
“Martial art: Cross Blood Moon!”
Two arcs of blood-colored blade energy, horizontal and vertical like crescent moons, intertwined and swept toward Bai Yifan with lethal force.
“Martial art: Wind Spirit Spear!”
Bai Yifan smiled lightly, pointing his fan forward. The spiritual spear spun into a vortex, carrying a profound momentum, shooting straight toward the blood-red crescents.
Boom…!
The clash of martial arts erupted in a thunderous blast. The wave of spiritual energy blew the spectators back, forcing them to squint against the force.
Fang Tian remained unmoved below, clearly unaffected. He watched the two on the platform, understanding that, despite their claims, neither had truly unleashed their full power—this had been mere probing. The real battle was yet to come.
As the shockwave faded, Lang Qing and Bai Yifan faced each other with grave expressions, each now sizing up the other in earnest.