Chang'an Lost! Blood-Soaked Fasinuo!

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In the end, Chen Mu could not compare to Chen Xiaojun's formidable physique. This Wind Thunder Instant Dragon Kill had already been a forced breakthrough past his limits.

In particular, the godspeed style within the Thunder Breathing Technique was itself a forbidden move that burned the meridians as fuel for explosive power. At this moment, his internal organs felt like smoldering charcoal, and fine threads of blood seeped from all seven orifices.

The spectator stands erupted into a mountain-roaring, sea-surging uproar:

"Holy shit! He's going to win!"

"Chen Mu is freaking brutal! He's taking on Zhong Weifeng, ranked 29th on the Genius List, despite being three ranks lower in Soul Power!"

"Today he frees the crane and charges straight into the sky! He really dares to gamble with his life!"

"Hahaha! My bet's safe!"

"My heart's about to explode! How is this a match? This is playing with their lives!"

"Just look at how many people are down on both sides!"

"Chang'an versus Yue Si—sure enough, competition comes first, friendship twenty-second."

Amid the clamor, Su Ningxia's blade flowed like rosy light splitting into shadows.

"Mist Form Two: Eightfold Mist!"

She advanced across the shattered arena, eight layers of afterimages slicing open the shield Sheng Yingying had laid down as cleanly as a butcher dismembering an ox.

Where the blade-light passed, eight bloody gashes blossomed one after another across the white night battle robe, and she finally staggered before crashing to the ground.

Thirty steps away, Sheng Yingying's slender fingers fluttered like butterflies weaving through flowers, her black hair whipping wildly in the surging Soul Power that shot into the sky.

The instant that snowy-bright blade-beam tore through the air and pierced into her left shoulder blade, her secret art was complete.

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