On the field, the suddenly intensely crimson face of Bai Cheng also caught the attention of the spectators, who now exchanged stunned glances and began murmuring among themselves. Xiao Yan's brow furrowed slightly. He could clearly sense the sudden surge in Bai Cheng's powerful aura, and the swirling qi around his body had noticeably intensified—by nearly double. "A secret technique... I didn't expect him to have studied one. However, the enhancement appears significantly less effective than Tianhuo Sanxuan Bian. Judging by the strength of the qi, it seems to only elevate his power by one star. Moreover, the way his face is flushed with blood rushing to his veins suggests a relatively basic level of technique—indeed, this is one of the more fundamental methods within secret techniques." Xiao Yan whispered softly. Generally speaking, there are distinctions among secret techniques—those that awaken unique fire energies to enhance one's own strength, such as his own, are considered excellent; whereas techniques that rely on blood circulation to generate power, like Bai Cheng's, are considered inferior, even potentially causing lasting, irreparable damage. Nevertheless, whether superior or inferior, secret techniques remain exceedingly rare. At critical moments, they can decisively influence outcomes, and in some cases, even determine the very outcome of a battle. His face flushed with vibrant blood energy, and after a moment, Bai Cheng slowly raised his eyes, now veiled in blood, fixed them steadily upon Xiao Yan with a solemn, eerie gaze. His hands tightly gripped his lance, and a pale yellow aura, tinged with blood, flowed steadily down his arms, fully enveloping the lance. Within this aura, delicate streaks of blood energy writhed and danced, like slender, fine serpents. The long spear was raised, pointing steadily at Xiao Yan across the way. Feeling the powerful, unceasing energy flowing through his body, Bai Cheng couldn't help but smile—a grim, strained smile, his voice rough as if blades had scraped across glass, painfully sharp to the eardrums. Locked in place by Bai Cheng's spear, Xiao Yan subtly furrowed his brow. As the one directly involved, he was most aware of the difference between Bai Cheng's current state and his earlier one. The sudden battle that erupted on the field had only lasted a flash—most spectators saw only fleeting silhouettes that vanished almost instantly. The final image, however, was a blood-red lance appearing suddenly. "Remarkably fast..." many on the stands murmured in awe, swallowing hard at the moment. They knew well that White Cheng’s attack, which had moved like a ghost before, would have left them completely unaware—only realizing it when their bodies were pierced by the lance. Ten meters away from where the blood-red lance landed, Xiao Yan materialized, his face expressing mild astonishment as he gazed at White Cheng, now standing where he had previously paused. After employing that secret technique, not only had White Cheng’s strength significantly increased, but his speed had also surged dramatically. Had it not been for his own "Three Thousand Thunder Strikes" footwork technique, he would have found it far more difficult to evade that initial strike. "Boom!" "His first strike missed. Bai Cheng lifted his cold gaze toward Xiao Yan, now distant, and with a sudden jolt of his arm, his long spear vibrated rapidly. The tip of the spear swept upward, lifting the stone slab that had been pierced, along with fragments of stone, and sending it spinning toward Xiao Yan. Feeling the sharp lance points striking with intensity across nearly every part of his body, Xiao Yan's face subtly changed, and the trajectory of his heavy staff shifted once more. What had initially been powerful, forceful strikes now transformed into a continuous, flowing momentum, constantly meeting the dense clusters of lance points. This time, Xiao Yan no longer retreated under the force of the energy waves. The streak of green flame, resembling a voracious beast, instantly devoured any crimson spear beams that came into contact with it. With the aid of the green flame, Zhong Shi crushed the vast array of crimson spear beams before him as if they were dry reeds. As the crimson beams were forced back, a figure concealed behind them suddenly came into view within Xiao Yan's line of sight. Their eyes locked, the energy exchange between them radiating coldness and intent. "Blood Ground Eight Cracks!" A deep, somber cry burst forth from Bai Cheng's throat. As the words echoed, the face that had been flooded with crimson instantly turned pale. Yet at that very moment, his long spear completely transformed into a spear enveloped in thick, vibrant blood energy, with a steady stream of blood-like odors seeping from its shaft, making those nearby feel nauseous. On the long spear, the blood-red glow now constricted to an astonishing degree, rendered dark and thick with a somber, bloody hue as though solidified blood. The arm suddenly trembled, and finally, at the tip of the spear, amid the countless stunned gazes on the stands, the blood-red radiance surged violently—eight massive arcs of blood-red light, each spanning half a zhang in length, erupted forth along remarkably unusual trajectories. Upon closer inspection, one could observe that these eight arcs precisely formed a cage-like structure, completely enclosing the retreat path of the targeted opponent. The eight arcs sliced through the arena with a roaring wind, carving deep furrows—each several chi wide—into the hard floor, sending shards of stone flying and dust swirling. The once-neat battle platform was now utterly devastated. Dust continuously rose, and within mere moments, completely enveloped the area where Xiao Yan stood. At the same time, the eight blood-colored arcs surged forth with sharp, deadly intent, striking directly into the midst. "White Cheng's 'Blood-Soaked Eight Fractures' has improved significantly compared to before—it seems he's going to have a tough time." From a lofty platform, Yao Sheng, with his gentle demeanor, observed the crimson arcs dancing on the field, and coldly remarked. "Ideally, he should be killed right here, right now." Beside him, Liu Fei, her face glowing with a touch of malicious delight, cast a particularly venomous curse. "Seems like there's no response? Could it be…?" Yan Hao furrowed his brows, his gaze tightly fixed on the dust where Xiao Yan stood. Those eight blood arc attacks were indeed formidable; if Xiao Yan so much as stumbled, he might truly suffer serious injuries. Han Yue tightened her grip on the railing, her beautiful eyes steadily fixed on the field. Bai Cheng, who had just executed the "Blood Ground Eight Cracks," was now nearly spent. If Xiao Yan could withstand this wave of attacks, victory would surely be his—but if he couldn't… Lin Xiu'ya's eyes slightly narrowed, then suddenly broke into a smile, speaking softly, "This guy truly has quite a few strong cards up his sleeve." As Lin Xiu'ya's words settled, the dust gradually began to fade, and finally, under the watchful eyes of countless spectators, a figure began to emerge faintly from within the dust. Bai Cheng held his long spear firmly in place, his face pale as paper. His secret technique, whether in duration or otherwise, fell far short of Xiao Yan's Tianhuo Sanxuan Transformation. After unleashing his most powerful technique, he had completely lost his combat capability and could only pray that his attacks would utterly defeat Xiao Yan. However, his hopes shattered when a figure began to emerge from the dust. As that figure stepped forward with a slow, steady pace, his heart grew heavier and heavier, and a sense of despair gradually settled upon his face.