“Let them all come at once!” Although Henry Clark spoke lightly, his words did not escape the keen senses of those present, honed by cultivation.

Upon hearing this, everyone looked at Henry Clark with a strange expression.

Among the disciples originally standing in the same row, David Bennett was the most advanced in cultivation. Naturally, he could see Henry Clark’s strength at a glance: the second level of Innate Purple Qi. To face more than thirty disciples at once was still a bit of a stretch. Could it be that he had some extraordinary weapon to turn the tables?

The other eight had similar expressions—even Edward Reed didn’t believe Henry Clark could take on thirty at once. After all, he knew most of these thirty-some people. One against five or six might be possible, but one against thirty would be a certain defeat. Henry Clark’s cultivation in Innate Purple Qi wasn’t even as deep as his own—how could he possibly have a chance? Was he simply blinded by anger?

Everyone else had the same thought. Grace Carter wore an anxious look, stamping her feet where she stood and glaring fiercely at Henry Clark. But in front of so many people, she didn’t dare to intervene, and could only worry helplessly.

“Are you sure you want to take on thirty at once?!” The presiding elder stared at Henry Clark, enunciating each word. “It’s not too late to regret it now!”

“It’s already too late to regret it now!” Henry Clark replied with a smile, his expression utterly calm, yet it sent a chill through the elder’s heart.

“Very well, in that case, I have nothing more to say!” He lifted his head, swept his gaze over the group of Luofu disciples, then began calling out names in the order listed on the notice, signaling them to step forward.

Though the thirty-some people were reluctant, none dared to disobey, and all stepped out from the crowd.

Then, a strange scene unfolded.

Normally, when both challenger and challenged step forward, the field should be cleared and the match should officially begin. But now, with so many challengers, none of them knew what to do or who should make the first move. They couldn’t all just rush in at once—besides being unsightly, without coordination, they wouldn’t be able to display their true strength. So, all the challengers just stood there, unmoving, and the atmosphere grew awkward.

Henry Clark smiled, having anticipated this outcome. This ragtag group probably never expected he would take on thirty at once. Slowly, he drew the longsword from his waist.

“Fellow junior brothers—and, oh, senior brothers as well—I’m truly flattered by your attention. But now that you’re all up here, there’s no helping it. Since you have the numbers, shouldn’t you come up with some rules? Will you come at me in groups, or all at once? Hmm?”

“Please instruct us, senior brother!” One of the disciples darted out from the crowd. “Inner sect disciple Matthew Scott wishes to have a fair fight with senior brother!” As he spoke, without waiting for the other challengers to react, his sword flashed and he charged at Henry Clark.

“Your swordsmanship is quite impressive!” Henry Clark laughed. Matthew Scott’s sword technique was indeed quite skilled. Purely in terms of swordplay, if it had been a month ago, he might have been able to tangle with Henry Clark for dozens of rounds. But now—heh!

Henry Clark wore a gentle smile, his sword’s edge hidden behind him. As Matthew Scott’s sword neared, Henry Clark’s body drifted to the side—the speed, the angle, the timing—so precise that even the veteran sword immortals on the dais were startled.

Matthew Scott’s sword struck empty air.

Sensing danger, he tried to retreat, but he was already a moment too late.

He felt a numbness on the back of his sword hand, his fingers loosened, and he could no longer hold his sword. With a clang, it fell to the ground. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Henry Clark’s hand gripping the sword hilt, pressing against the back of his hand.

“Senior brother, thank you for letting me win!” Henry Clark’s gentle voice sounded in his ear. Only then did Matthew Scott come to his senses, greeted by the same gentle smile from Henry Clark as before.

“Chunlong is ashamed!”

Matthew Scott’s face flushed red. Defeated in a single move, even with his thick skin, he couldn’t bear to remain on the training ground. He didn’t even retrieve his sword—just uttered those four words and left.

Henry Clark still wore that same smile, sweeping his gaze over the other challengers who had yet to react.

“Come at me together. One-on-one, none of you can withstand even a single move from me!”

His voice was gentle, just like when he handed someone the roasted rabbit he’d cooked himself and said, “Eat it while it’s hot, it won’t taste good cold!” There was not a trace of aggression, yet every word struck the challengers’ hearts with the weight of a thousand pounds.

That move just now was too fast—most of them hadn’t even seen it clearly. But it was true that Matthew Scott had made the first move, and Henry Clark hadn’t moved until the sword was almost upon him. Yet with just that one move, he had knocked away Matthew Scott’s sword. Most present knew they were not as skilled as Matthew Scott, and their resolve was already wavering. But Henry Clark didn’t seem inclined to give them the chance to back out.

He flipped the sword from behind his back, the sharp blade trembling slightly, tracing a mysterious arc, and so effortlessly positioned it in front of himself.