Tang San's Divine Sense: For Tang Sect and Shrek, Wulin, You Go...

"Pfft—"

A muffled blast erupted across the arena. Amid a spray of crimson blood mist, Chi Shanming suddenly doubled over and began coughing violently.

Once again, his Soul Power had inexplicably reversed within his body. That uncontrollable berserk energy was like a dull blade, repeatedly tearing through his meridians before finally bursting through his throat, becoming a mouthful of scorching blood that splattered across the gleaming white jade arena floor and spread into a glaring red bloom.

"I... I concede!"

Chi Shanming's voice carried unmistakable exhaustion and humiliation, every word seemingly forced through gritted teeth.

He raised his head and looked at Nan Fusheng across from him. Though Nan Fusheng's aura fluctuated, his gaze remained sharp. A trace of unwillingness flashed through Chi Shanming's eyes before being replaced by deep helplessness.

He had no choice but to concede.

Ever since Nan Fusheng had used that strange ability, this match had completely slipped beyond his control.

Whenever he gathered Soul Power and launched an attack, whether it was a fierce Spirit Skill or another combat technique, it would ultimately rebound onto him with twice the force upon striking his opponent.

It felt like throwing a punch at cotton, only to have steel needles hidden inside pierce straight through his palm. Every counterattack made him suffer twice the pain.

What frustrated him even more was that whenever Nan Fusheng's attacks landed on him, they always precisely avoided the weak points in his battle armor's defenses. Every blow was like a sledgehammer striking an iron plate, leaving his blood and qi churning.

That casually formed Elemental Blade seemed to carry some kind of armor-piercing effect as well.

His Two-word Battle Armor was clearly far harder than those of his peers, yet it was as fragile as paper beneath the other man's slashes—his shoulder