“Did I hear that right? You’re telling me to step down?”
Ling Xiao squinted at the youth before him, roughly his age, with no apparent standout traits. What gave him such confidence?
“You heard me. I said once I strike, there’ll be blood. You might end up seriously hurt,” Shi Yue nodded earnestly.
He didn’t seem to be bluffing.
Ling Xiao found himself mildly intrigued.
“Use your strongest move on me. If you can make me budge an inch, you win,” he said with a smile.
“Sister, is this guy dumb? He didn’t catch what I said,” Shi Yue turned to Shi Yulian with a wry grin.
“Shut it. This guy’s no pushover. You might not win, so be careful,” Shi Yulian snapped.
“Sister, don’t joke. My strongest move could even injure you. He’s claiming he won’t move an inch?” Shi Yue chuckled bitterly. “I really don’t want to hurt anyone.”
“This kid’s honest to a fault, almost cute. Don’t worry, I’ve trained a top-tier defensive art. Even if you hit me, it won’t be severe,” Ling Xiao said. Initially irked by Shi Yue’s bravado, their exchange erased his annoyance. This kid wasn’t looking down on him—he was just a straightforward soul.
And kind, too.
“Alright then, brace yourself. Here I come!” Shi Yue said, taking a deep breath. His once simple gaze sharpened like a blade.
His suppressed energy erupted with a roar.
“Such a fierce aura. His realm’s fifth-peak Martial Vein, but his energy quality rivals sixth-tier. No wonder he’s so sure of himself.”
“Now Ling Xiao’s in for it.”
“His big talk did him in. Didn’t Shi Yue say his full strength could hurt even Miss Yulian?”
“Heh, the Ling Clan’s streak was too hot. Finally, one’s going down.”
The crowd buzzed, but the two on the arena ignored them.
Ling Xiao stood, hands behind his back, his cyan robe fluttering without wind, a faint smile on his face, showing no trace of nerves.
Shi Yue clenched his fists. Even before striking, his energy’s roar unsettled those nearby.
Boom!
A sound like an explosion rang out as Shi Yue’s fists surged forth, overwhelming like a tidal wave, warping the air itself.
No, not just the air—space itself seemed to twist. Through his fists’ energy, the crowd’s figures distorted.
“Storm Surge Fist!”
It roared like the sea, waves crashing toward Ling Xiao in relentless succession.
Ling Xiao saw it now—what made this move so fearsome.
It seemed like one strike, but it hid six layers of hidden force, like seven escalating waves, each stronger than the last.
“Well done!” Ling Xiao’s eyes lit up.
No wonder Shi Yue was so bold. Against anyone else, this fist would be devastating.
Too bad the Nine-Turn Golden Body Art naturally countered multi-layered hidden-force attacks.
Shi Yue’s mighty blow was doomed to flop.
“Shi Yue’s attack power might even rival Li Xinghui’s.”
“Yeah, he’s got layered force while Li Xinghui’s a single blast, but the strength’s close.”
“Ling Xiao can’t block that.”
“Not unless his top-tier defensive art’s at major mastery.”
As the chatter peaked, a cry erupted from the arena, and a figure flew off.
“Ling Xiao?”
“No! It’s Shi Yue! What happened? Damn it, we missed the good part talking!”
“Nine-Turn Golden Body Art! Major mastery!” someone answered.
“What! The infamously tough high-tier defensive art, Nine-Turn Golden Body Art?”
All eyes turned to the arena. Ling Xiao stood bathed in golden light, like a victorious war god.
He’d said he wouldn’t budge an inch—and he hadn’t.
Shi Yue, meanwhile, spat blood, clearly hurt.
“Sister, he’s amazing, stronger than Li Xinghui!” Shi Yue said, standing and wiping his mouth, his words making Li Xinghui’s brow twitch.
“No nonsense, go heal,” Shi Yulian scolded. As the City Lord’s daughter, she knew how to win hearts and didn’t want to irk Li Xinghui or the Li Clan over this.
“You’re Shi Yue, right? Your Storm Surge Fist is impressive, your energy’s pure. I’d suggest a water-based internal art—it’d boost that fist even more,” Ling Xiao said with a smile. “You’re not weak, just unlucky to face me. Without my Nine-Turn Golden Body at seventh-turn major mastery, I might not have stopped you today.”
“Ling Xiao, no need to flatter me. You’re really strong. I respect you,” Shi Yue said, spitting blood again before being dragged off by Shi Clan members to recover.
Ling Xiao rarely admired others or offered pointers. In the Ling Clan, only Ling Yixue, Ling Yihang, and Ling Luo got that. Now, Shi Yue joined the list.
Beating Shi Yue marked Ling Xiao’s rise. Prior disdain and underestimation vanished.
Especially with the high-tier Nine-Turn Golden Body Art at seventh turn—unheard of among Tianfeng City’s youth, or even Northern Han’s.
His strength was now beyond doubt.
“I’ll admit Ling Xiao’s got skill, but among the Ling Clan’s four, he’s probably last. Pure defense is easy to counter,” someone said.
“True, wonder who’ll challenge him next.”
“Ling Xiao, you’re finally worth my challenge,” came a voice—the former fourth-ranked Young Master, Wang Zui.
He’d rested and healed enough to return.
“Shouldn’t you challenge Ling Yihang?” Ling Xiao asked, puzzled.
“Less talk. Don’t tell me you’re scared?” Wang Zui shot back. He desperately wanted to face Ling Yihang but feared that blade strike too much to try.
He picked Ling Xiao, thinking him weaker and easier to handle with his defensive style.
Wang Zui excelled at poison arts.
No matter how strong a defense, it’d crumble before his poison—that’s why he chose Ling Xiao.
Though Ling Xiao held only the seventh arena, it didn’t matter. Everyone saw his strength rivaled Shi Yulian’s. If Wang Zui beat him, he’d reclaim some pride.
Ling Yihang, watching, silently pitied Wang Zui.
Idiot could’ve picked anyone but Ling Xiao. He’s begging for a thrashing.
Ling Yihang knew Ling Xiao’s terror best—no one made him feel so hopelessly outmatched.
Unfathomable.
“Since you insist, come on. I’d love to see how you stack up against Ling Feifan,” Ling Xiao said calmly.
