“Junior Brother Ling is truly unfathomable.”
Dai Yuling shook her head with a wry smile. She’d found Ling Xiao enigmatic since their Hidden Dragon Camp days, and now in the Yuehua Sect, he was even more inscrutable.
“What… what martial technique was that?”
Jian Renwang, wincing from the searing pain in his palms, stared at Ling Xiao in shock.
Ling Xiao glanced at him calmly, then looked at his right hand, murmuring as if to himself, “Martial technique? So, I need a technique to deal with inner disciples?”
That move was just basic defense.
Any martial artist with a solid foundation could do it, but to precisely catch a sword blade without injury required exceptional skill.
Against someone like Jian Renwang, Ling Xiao saw no need for martial techniques.
“Don’t underestimate me!”
Hearing that Ling Xiao didn’t even deem him worthy of a technique, Jian Renwang trembled with rage.
Gritting his teeth, he stood, ignoring his dropped sword. A cold smirk appeared as he charged at Ling Xiao, hands tucked in his sleeves.
“Junior Brother Ling, watch out! He’s up to something!”
Zhao Zhi didn’t know Jian Renwang’s plan but was certain the cunning man, unable to win head-on, would resort to dirty tricks.
“Thanks, Senior Brother Zhao, but he can’t hurt me.”
Ling Xiao stood still, not moving to act.
“Martial Law activated—I won’t attack. If your sinister tactics fail against me, they’ll rebound onto you!”
His sudden declaration puzzled the onlookers.
“Is Ling Xiao out of his mind?”
“Who knows what he’s thinking?”
“He’s not weak, so just end the fight! Jian Renwang’s a disgrace to the inner sect!”
Hearing the crowd’s murmurs, Jian Renwang’s anger flared. He’d held back from lethal force, fearing Lan Yu’er’s retaliation.
But the taunts stripped away his restraint.
As Ling Xiao’s figure drew closer, Jian Renwang’s smirk turned menacing. He pulled his fists from his sleeves.
They glowed green, exuding an aura far more terrifying than his own true essence.
“Poison God Fist!”
With a roar, Jian Renwang clenched his fists tighter. A foul stench filled the air, accompanied by a piercing whistle as his fists shot toward Ling Xiao’s chest.
“It’s really the Poison God Fist!”
Lan Yu’er’s brows furrowed.
“What’s special about it?” Dai Yuling asked, confused.
“The technique itself isn’t fearsome—just a precious-grade entry-level martial art. But it can incorporate deadly poisons, unleashing terrifying power,” Lan Yu’er explained. “I bet Jian Renwang has some rare poison. He’s truly unscrupulous—this is a spar, not a deathmatch!”
Her face darkened.
Jian Renwang’s attempt to kill Ling Xiao in her presence was intolerable.
Yet, oddly, she felt no worry for Ling Xiao, only an inexplicable confidence.
Dai Yuling and Zhao Zhi, however, paled with concern.
Indeed, Jian Renwang, humiliated, hadn’t held back.
Per the sparring rules, an inner disciple killing an outer disciple faced only a minor fine and confinement.
He had no fear.
“Don’t blame me when you die—you brought this on yourself!”
Jian Renwang sneered inwardly, glaring at Ling Xiao.
Ling Xiao stood calmly, eyeing Jian Renwang’s glowing green fists.
Per his Martial Law, he couldn’t attack, only defend, or the law wouldn’t take effect.
A faint golden light shimmered as Heavenly Dragon Scale Armor rapidly enveloped him.
Jian Renwang’s strike wasn’t powerful, but with poison, caution was wise.
The Heavenly Dragon Scale Armor could block true essence and toxins alike—no question.
*Boom!*
Jian Renwang’s fists slammed into Ling Xiao, then he swiftly retreated a dozen steps, smirking maliciously.
*Boom!*
An explosion erupted on Ling Xiao, enveloping him in green smoke, the air thick with a putrid stench.
Inner disciples near the platform backed away, desperate to avoid the odor.
*Pfft!*
A bizarre scene unfolded.
Ling Xiao emerged slowly from the green smoke, unharmed.
In that instant, the smoke and explosive force vanished, as if sucked into a black hole.
On the other side, Jian Renwang collapsed to his knees, spewing green-tinted blood, his face etched with shock and confusion.
Glancing at the crumpled Jian Renwang and the stunned crowd below, Ling Xiao smiled faintly. “I told you, your tactics won’t work on me. They’ll rebound onto you. You’ve lost!”
The platform fell silent, then erupted.
Shock and confusion dominated.
Nearly two hundred inner disciples, arriving in waves, discussed the bloodied Jian Renwang with astonishment.
As inner disciples, they knew his strength.
Not top-tier, but far from the bottom—around 180th in the inner sect.
With his dirty tricks, even top-100 disciples avoided fighting him.
His Poison God Fist, laced with a rare toxin, had once felled a Mortal Realm third-level martial artist.
Yet Ling Xiao shattered that legacy.
In just two exchanges.
First, he effortlessly caught Jian Renwang’s sword and sent him reeling.
Second, he inexplicably turned Jian Renwang’s Poison God Fist against him.
Outer disciples typically fell swiftly to Jian Renwang.
This upset left many inner disciples reeling.
Below, Ming Tian, who’d arrived earlier, stared at the defeated Jian Renwang, his face incredulous, mouth agape.
It had been ages since he’d seen Ling Xiao fight. He’d never watched Ling Xiao’s outer sect battles, so his progress was shocking.
