Outside the railing.
Liu Maolin abruptly clenched his fists, an irrepressible gasp escaping his throat.
Watching Yang Jing walk down from the arena, he drew in a faint breath of cold air.
He had clearly seen the ferocity of that final punch, paired with the nimble movement of the Surging Wave Leg.
"He won... He really won!" Liu Maolin murmured.
He had previously given Yang Jing records of the rules for past Parade Ground Trials, which included the number of qualifying places each year. Over the last decade, most years had offered five places, a few had offered six, and only one had offered four.
In other words, Yang Jing's provisional sixth place already put him on the threshold of making the ranking!
The realization sent Liu Maolin's heart racing.
He still remembered encouraging Yang Jing to enter the Parade Ground Trial. Back then, he had patted him on the shoulder and told him to give it a try, treat it as training, and not take it too seriously. The point was simply to gain experience and prepare for future trials.
At the time, he had only wanted this junior brother, who had just broken through to hidden strength, to see the wider world and learn that beyond every heaven lay another. Once eliminated, he could return and settle down to train more earnestly. How could Liu Maolin ever have imagined... ever have imagined he would make it this far?
On his very first attempt at the Parade Ground Trial, he had fought his way out of a field of hundreds of martial artists, defeated one opponent after another-including experts like Shen Lie and He Han-and even emerged relatively unscathed against Qin Yu. Now he actually had a chance of making the ranking.
Watching the soldiers cleaning up the arena,