Inside Huishan Fist Academy.
Jiang Su said nothing as she climbed up from the ground. Gritting her teeth, she wanted to charge forward again, but Zhao Hong behind her held her down.
"I'll go," Zhao Hong said seriously.
He had actually watched Chen Jian's moves, power, and technique just now. He was not confident himself. The other man was absolutely gifted beyond measure, with terrifying stamina. Every punch carried his full strength, yet he never tired.
But Wei He was absent, and their master's expression had grown increasingly ugly as he sat there in silence.
There were also so many fellow martial artists watching.
With Iron Fiend Fist pressing them like this, did Huishan Fist still want any reputation outside?
Zhao Hong calmly rose to his feet.
He had Zhang Lu help Jiang Su to the back, then strode forward step by step.
By now, the disciples from the surrounding martial academies were already frowning and whispering among themselves. Huishan Fist's showing had indeed been far too weak. This did not look like the sort of academy capable of cultivating someone at the Third Stage Qi and Blood.
Zhao Hong wasted no more words. He stepped forward, planted his feet, and slowly assumed the stance of Huishan Fist.
His breathing was steady, completely unlike Jiang Su and Zhang Lu before him. One glance was enough to tell that he was a level stronger.
"This one looks decent," Chen Jian said with a nod, a trace of fighting intent gradually rising in his eyes.
Yet only moments later, the sounds of blows being exchanged rang out.
Zhao Hong staggered back several steps. Beneath his clothes, his chest was red and swollen, tight with pain. Chen Jian had clearly struck him squarely in the chest.
He had not lasted long either. No