Cao Zheng never dreamed his second-turn Tribulation realm strength would crash out at the prefecture round.
“This match—Lin Yun wins!” the referee declared.
His voice snapped the crowd out of their daze.
The plaza exploded!
“Cao Zheng lost?!”
“Third-rank Mahayana beating second-turn Tribulation—what a insane record!”
Gasps echoed across the square.
This outcome blindsided everyone.
When they looked at that young figure on the stage again, it was all awe and wariness!
This fight cemented Lin Yun’s legend in Dongyuan!
Wei Qi, watching from the crowd, gaped at Lin Yun.
“This guy’s that strong? Three months ago, he wasn’t this nuts, was he?” Wei Qi muttered, stunned.
Lin Yun’s growth rate spooked him.
He remembered—three months back, Lin Yun’s soul-sense was divine sixth-rank.
Now, super-divine first-rank?
That jump was bonkers!
“What a freak you can’t pin down,” Wei Qi sighed.
He had a hunch—Lin Yun’s future was limitless.
“Ha, he won! Brother Lin Yun pulled it off!” Zhu Xu bounced, hyped.
“No shock there, but still—what a result! No wonder Hero Lin Yun was so cocky pre-match, unfazed by Cao Zheng’s tricks—his strength’s way beyond what I guessed!” Clan Leader Zhu marveled.
The ugliest mugs belonged to the Mo duo.
“How… how’s he this strong!?” Mo Yangrong growled like a wounded lion.
Lin Yun’s power floored him.
“Misstep! Total misstep!” Clan Leader Mo shut his eyes, shaking his head, pale as snow.
They’d been dead sure—second-turn Cao Zheng against a third-rank Mahayana, no contest, right?
No matter the tricks, that gap should’ve been unbridgeable!
Reality slapped them hard!
This was just the 10-to-5 round, but with Cao Zheng down, Lin Yun’s crown was a done deal.
As Dongyuan’s champ, he’d head to the national round—Mo wouldn’t dare touch him then.
Plus, they’d shelled out 800 Tribulation Pills to get Cao Zheng in, and bet 5,000 more with Lin Yun.
Now? Lost the lot and their pride!
Up front.
“He actually won?”
The Prefecture Lord, Yi Cheng, and the envoy blinked, shock in their eyes.
They’d just been betting on Lin Yun’s struggle.
He’d proved them dead wrong!
Yi Cheng looked sourest—Lin Yun’s snub stung, he’d rooted against him.
“That last burst—most second-turn Tribulation realm cultivators couldn’t take it, unless they’re tanky, even without the illusion, Cao Zheng was toast!” the envoy said.
“That kind of power’s a shocker—hard to believe a third-rank Mahayana pulled it off,” even the Prefecture Lord couldn’t help but muse.
Heaven-Shaking Hand’s punch had rattled them.
“What a cracking match—Lin Yun’s a gem! Crown’s his, no doubt,” the envoy grinned.
This was just 10-to-5—Lin Yun stepped off, next bout up.
Matches rolled on.
But the buzz stayed on Lin Yun.
The sour-faced Mo duo wanted out, barking at the crowd to clear a path.
“Hold it!”
A figure blocked them.
“Who dares block Mo Clan?!” Clan Leader Mo, already fuming, snapped, looking up.
It was Lin Yun.
“I do.”
Lin Yun crossed his arms, smirking at them.
“Clan Leader Mo, here to cash in our bet—I beat Cao Zheng, 5,000 Tribulation Pills, hand ’em over!” Lin Yun stuck out his hand.
“You…”
Clan Leader Mo’s eye twitched, Mo Yangrong’s glare could’ve sparked flames.
“Clan Leader Mo, big name in Dongyuan—surely you’re not welching? Our deal’s right here in black and white,” Lin Yun waved the contract.
Murmurs rippled around.
Clan Leader Mo’s face darkened—Mo’s rep in Dongyuan was huge, he prized face.
Not pay? He’d be a laughingstock.
Pay? 5,000 Tribulation Pills—no small fry!
“I haven’t got 5,000 on me—I’ll deliver later.”
He spat the words and bolted.
“Three days, or I’ll tell all Dongyuan Mo Clan can’t take a loss!” Lin Yun called after him.
The 10-to-5 wrapped quick.
Then 5-to-3, and the title fight.
Cao Zheng down, the rest were no match.
After seeing Lin Yun trash Cao Zheng, who wasn’t spooked?
The last few rounds, Lin Yun steamrolled.
Final match—against a third-rank Mahayana.
One move, they tapped out.
“Cheers,” Lin Yun saluted.
Beating them clinched him Dongyuan’s prefecture champ title.
The envoy rose, facing the crowd.
“On the empire’s behalf, I congratulate Lin Yun—Dongyuan’s champ, earning a spot with me for the national round!”
His booming voice rang out.
*Boom!*
Thunderous applause erupted.
Lin Yun’s strength was beyond doubt—everyone bought his win.
On the stage, Lin Yun saluted the envoy.
Taking Dongyuan’s crown? No surprise.
It was in the bag—prefecture round was a breeze for him.
Even Cao Zheng stayed under his thumb.
Cao Zheng just added a dash of fun, kept it from being dull—that’s it.
“The national round might have some bite,” Lin Yun’s eyes glinted.
Next goal—national champ.
That’d test him, tougher than this, no question.
But with strength in his corner, he wasn’t fazed!
National crown? His for the taking!
