Reborn Financier-Chapter 46: Sword Clash of the Rising Stars

The dueling grounds of the academy had never been this alive.

Stone-tiled floors stretched wide beneath the cloudless sky. Above the main platform were rows of spectator seats filled with noble families, academy judges, instructors, and curious students—each pair of eyes locked on the field.

It was the third round of the one-on-one combat trials.

More than a dozen duels had already taken place, but none had quite shaken the crowd—until now.

Two names had been drawn that ignited the excitement like dry oil catching flame.

Meng Ji vs Roan Blaze.

Meng Ji was already a rising star. Everyone knew her reputation—not just for her beauty or grace, but because she was the granddaughter of a Martial Grandmaster, one of the strongest living martial artists in the Eastern Continent. Even more, she was known to have been trained personally by him for years in secret.

She was elegant, poised, her white and purple robes fluttering as she took light steps onto the dueling platform. Her sword, thin and curved like a crescent moon, remained sheathed at her waist, waiting.

Roan Blaze followed shortly behind.

Fifteen, yet already looking like a war-hardened knight. His broad shoulders carried the weight of a massive greatsword—Crimson Fang, forged from an ore found only in the Molten Caves of the West. His red hair glowed under the sun, and his muscles rippled with power and intent. He cracked his neck and swung the sword over his shoulder effortlessly.

"This should be good," a judge murmured to another.

The crowd buzzed in whispers.

"That girl’s from the Flowing Moon Sect, right?" "Roan’s sword weighs over 100 kilograms!" "Doesn’t matter. Meng Ji is still in the top 10 beauties of the Eastern Continent!"

A sharp hand motion from the presiding elder silenced the arena.

"Begin!"

Roan moved first—no hesitation.

He erupted with a red aura. Mana surged from his limbs, empowering his movements. His first step cracked the tile beneath him. As his blade came down in a monstrous overhead arc, the sheer wind pressure alone sent loose fabric fluttering across the arena.

But Meng Ji... was already gone.

Her form blurred, sliding under the swing with the grace of a dancer. Her sword remained sheathed as she stepped into Roan’s blind spot, and in one smooth motion—draw, strike, re-sheath.

A sharp ping rang in the air.

Blood trickled from a shallow cut on Roan’s upper arm. Not deep. But surgically precise.

Roan grinned.

"You’re fast. I like that."

He responded with "Volcanic Sweep"—a 360-degree swing infused with flame-like mana, creating a violent explosion of force around him. The move was powerful, but not refined. It was a pressure technique, meant to control the field, not land a clean blow.

Meng Ji backflipped twice, landing lightly on her feet.

His attacks carry immense weight. I can’t afford to let even one land.

Again, they clashed. Roan switched from power strikes to pressure bursts—slamming his mana into the ground to displace her footing. His sword roared as he used "Lava Fang Combo", a heavy three-strike technique that sent shockwaves through her guard.

She parried, spun, and countered with her sect’s "Falling Leaf Palm", channeling mana through her free hand and slamming her palm into the flat of his blade to redirect the force.

The sound of metal clashing rang again. Sparks flew.

"She’s using internal martial arts now!" "And her movement arts are seamless!"

Meng Ji narrowed her eyes. She could feel her shoulders trembling from absorbing the repeated blows. Even though she had trained under her grandfather, she wasn’t built for drawn-out power duels.

"If I keep matching strength with him, I’ll lose."

She exhaled deeply. Her aura shifted.

The lavender glow around her turned darker, more refined. She drew her sword again—but this time with intent.

Roan sensed it instantly.

"Tch... what’s this feeling?"

Meng Ji entered the stance.

High guard. One foot forward. Sword aimed toward the sky.

A gust of wind stirred her robes. The field grew quiet.

Even the judges leaned forward.

"Is that—?" "She’s attempting the Falling Petal."

Her aura condensed like a swirling flower petal falling in slow motion. The pressure in the air shifted. The more experienced martial artists immediately recognized it—a signature technique of the old grandmaster, a deadly one-hit execution art.

Roan hesitated. But then, he charged.

He wasn’t the type to back down.

With a roar, he unleashed everything—Crimson Fang igniting with fire mana, his body glowing with brute force. His next strike was one designed to finish fights: "Molten Earth Breaker."

He leapt into the air and swung downward—full force.

The crowd gasped—

And Meng Ji moved.

Just one step.

A blur of lavender.

One silent motion.

Slash.

No sound. No scream.

Then the echo of wind crashing followed.

Roan landed, but stumbled backward, blinking in disbelief.

A thin red line appeared on his chestplate. The force of the blow hadn’t just injured him—it had displaced his stance completely.

He staggered.

And then he dropped to one knee.

Not from pain. From understanding.

He looked up at Meng Ji, still in the pose of the Falling Petal, her hair gently drifting with the breeze, sword lowered but not sheathed.

"That... that was only 30%?" Roan muttered. "What kind of monster is her grandfather?"

Meng Ji didn’t gloat. She simply bowed, respectful.

Silence hung in the air.

Then came the thunderous applause.

Even the judge stood up.

"Extraordinary. The technique alone is already at the Martial Expert level."

A master in the viewing stand, an old mage from the magic department, stroked his beard.

"If she can control even half of that move within a year, she will make A-Class easily... maybe even more."

Meng Ji walked off the stage quietly, leaving only wind and awe behind.

After that match, nothing too relevant happened

And as for kaidën

He just won each match of his whole making it seem like he was lucky, but one thing was sure, he did gain attention.

Now the next match up, as the contestant where called onto the stage, the crowd erupt. Many laughed, many felt petty. But one thing was certain, it was going to be an heated match.

To be continued...