Inside the arena, Han Xuhan stared at the gleaming silver saber in Chen Yan's hand, and shuddered dramatically.
"Senior Brother, are you sure you want to use an unsheathed sword to fight a bare-handed junior?"
"...This is a saber, not a sword," Chen Yan said, gritting his teeth.
"It's a sharp weapon either way. Look at me. I'm so poor that I can't even afford one!"
"...." Chen Yan was stunned. How shameless can someone be?
This guy didn't miss a single opportunity to brag about his wealth. How could he call himself poor while hiding those massive crates full of resources inside his house?
The stuff under his bed alone was worth thousands of spirit stones! Chen Yan had personally calculated their value!
"Junior Brother, are you trying to coerce me into dropping the saber and fight you unarmed? Surely, you know that doing so would be tantamount to crippling me. I know only this saber art."
The crowd outside the arena felt conflicted.
