“Hahaha, Lin Xiao’s been pierced through the heart, dead on the spot!”
Jia Zhao was the most thrilled, laughing first.
“So what if he’s a first-level Martial King or a third-grade senior spirit controller? Still killed by a Heavenly Martial disciple!”
“Too arrogant, doesn’t even know how he died, hahaha…”
The youth beside Jia Zhao also laughed, his sarcasm clear.
But at that moment, on the Life-and-Death Platform, Po Feng’s standing body slowly collapsed.
His sword slid from Lin Xiao’s chest, not a drop of blood on it. Everyone could clearly see the tip had only touched Lin Xiao’s body, not piercing at all.
Po Feng was defeated.
And there was no trace of life left in him.
“How’s this possible? Po Feng’s dead? There’s no wound on him—how did he lose?”
Someone, utterly baffled, voiced their disbelief.
“His neck was twisted by spiritual power!”
A sharp-eyed disciple shouted, and only then did everyone realise. Neck-twisting was one of a spirit controller’s deadliest moves, a taboo in close combat with them.
“Twisted his neck the moment it touched? Spirit controllers are terrifying!” Another exclaimed. Spirit controllers were always the trickiest opponents.
In truth, they didn’t know Lin Xiao hadn’t twisted Po Feng’s neck at top speed. He’d let Po Feng strike his chest, seizing the chance to twist it. They just couldn’t imagine Lin Xiao’s body being so tough that a chest strike left no mark.
To achieve this, Lin Xiao hadn’t attached spiritual power to Po Feng’s head earlier, avoiding such an attack and keeping Po Feng off guard.
Moreover, Lin Xiao’s third-grade senior spiritual power rivalled fourth-grade junior strength—far beyond what Po Feng could easily overcome.
Under these coincidences, Po Feng was effortlessly killed by Lin Xiao, revealing little of his true methods.
Jia Zhao and his group, who’d just been gloating, froze at the sight, their faces burning as if slapped. They’d said Lin Xiao didn’t know how he died, but Lin Xiao was fine, while Po Feng died cluelessly.
“Hahaha, earlier we offered to bet lives, and you didn’t dare. If you had, you’d all be dead!” Ma Bi laughed incoherently, dripping with mockery.
“Exactly, I knew Lin Xiao would win!” Niu Bi chimed in.
Jia Zhao and his group’s faces darkened further. They weren’t fools to bet lives with two nobodies.
Besides, did those two think their whole group’s lives were worth just their two? Dead, as if their lives were worthless?
Hearing the taunts, they wanted to beat the pair senseless, but the setting wasn’t right.
They silently vowed that if they faced these two in the next round, they’d thrash the ugly duo to see if they’d still spout nonsense.
Looking at the calm Lin Xiao on the platform, Xiahou Jing’s eyes narrowed, a trace of coldness in them, but it only warranted a glance.
On the VIP seats, Mo Jiutian’s abyss-like pupils flashed with two sharp glints, then vanished, unreadable.
“Too many want to kill me, but they all end up dead!” Lin Xiao turned, his resolute gaze fixed on Mo Jiutian.
Mo Jiutian’s eyes remained unfazed, showing no hint of involvement with the incident.
Or perhaps, he didn’t care about Po Feng’s death at all.
Killing Lin Xiao seemed as easy as flipping a hand, a matter of time.
“Both chose the Life-and-Death Platform willingly; life and death are fated. But this is a warning. Next time, disciples, think carefully before ascending,” Baili He spoke, his tone carrying a warning.
His gaze swept the crowd, then he praised, “Now, the second round is over. Congratulations to the fifty Heavenly Martial disciples advancing.”
The crowd’s eyes turned to the fifty Heavenly Martial disciples standing aside, feeling a mix of emotions.
In the second round, of 680 Heavenly Martial disciples, only fifty defeated Martial Kings—a low ratio, with a high elimination rate.
But fifty was no small feat. They were fighting across a major realm against Martial King geniuses. Fifty was a reasonable success rate.
These disciples, upon breaking through to Martial King, would likely be among the best.
The fifty-odd defeated Martial King youths looked dejected, eliminated outright after one loss.
“The third round will involve these 400 disciples in group matches, held tomorrow,” Baili He announced. “Now, the fifty defeated Martial Kings and unsuccessful Heavenly Martial disciples will draw lots for chaotic battles in groups of six or seven. The last one standing in each group secures a top 500 spot. No specific rankings for the top 500.”
Hearing this, the defeated Heavenly Martial disciples perked up. Though they didn’t pass the second round, they could still aim for the top 500.
A top 500 spot came with 3,000 contribution points—a decent reward.
The fifty Martial Kings remained downcast. As Martial Kings, losing to lower-realm challengers and now fighting Heavenly Martial disciples for top 500 spots was a massive humiliation.
It was a heavy blow.
On the square, over 600 disciples drew lots again, forming groups of six or seven for chaotic battles.
Chaotic battles, with larger numbers, were a quick elimination method, showing they weren’t highly valued.
Some disciples, too injured from the previous round, couldn’t compete again.
With over 100 groups across fifty arenas, it didn’t take long to determine the top 500.
Among Heaven Gate disciples, Gou Shi secured a top 500 spot.
Once the top 500 were set, the crowd dispersed. Over 2,000 battles in one day left even spectators with aesthetic fatigue.
The real exciting battles would start in the next round.
Those advancing, both Heavenly Martial and challenged Martial Kings, needed time to recover.
That night, some rejoiced, others grieved. Taverns overflowed, the tournament a hot topic, with analyses and guesses filling countless venues, buzzing with excitement.
Advancing disciples focused on preparing for the next round.