Iron Elephant Stomp, Vajra Demon Subduing

The top five disciples of the Zhenwei Martial Arts School, in terms of cultivation, were all formidable except for Guo Mingyuan, who was a fraud whose cultivation was propped up by medicinal baths. The other four were no pushovers, each with a solid reason to claim victory.

It was just Lin Qing's luck that he could enter the Cangshan Sword Sect directly, sparing him from having to compete with them.

Song Tianqing could have also avoided the contest, since after entering the Cangshan Sword Sect, he would surely focus on swordsmanship, with fist techniques only as a supplement.

But that was his nature—he never accepted defeat, never lagged behind others, and had an extremely strong possessiveness.

The White Ape Through-Arm Fist meant little to him, yet he refused to let anyone else have it, tyrannical to the core.

After a moment, Song Tianqing arrived as well, with Zheng Zhishan following behind him.

When he saw Han Zheng, Zheng Zhishan shot him a fierce glare.

Han Zheng smiled indifferently.

Why bother arguing with an old geezer who had one foot in the grave?

Li Jingzhong walked out from the inner hall of the martial arts school, swept his gaze across the room, and said in a deep voice, "Han Zheng, Song Tianqing, begin the final round of the match."

He paused, then added, "Though blades and fists have no eyes, we are all fellow disciples. Once a victor is clear, do not strike to kill."

Those words were clearly aimed at Song Tianqing.

But Song Tianqing obviously didn't take them to heart, nor did he want to.

In the center of the training ground, Song Tianqing flashed a somewhat sinister smile at Han Zheng. His body lunged forward with extreme speed, appearing before Han Zheng in the blink of an eye as he threw a punch.

He didn't care whether Han Zheng chose to take the money and withdraw.

But Han Zheng's refusal to know his place, daring to contend with him—that was asking for death.

Song Tianqing struck with the frame of the Vajra Fist, but just as Chen Zhao had said, his fist's style was completely different from the Vajra Fist.

The punch seemed aimed at Han Zheng's chest, but mid-strike, it suddenly shifted, slipping under his ribs, turning from a fist into a palm, and stabbing toward his waist!

If it landed and the force exploded, Han Zheng's kidney would be shattered into internal injuries in an instant.

Han Zheng's blood and qi surged, his sinews and bones cracking like thunder. The meridians in his arm pulled at his acupoints, as if a massive Vajra Pestle were swinging with a crash, directly flinging Song Tianqing's palm strike away.

Boom!

With a dull thunder, Song Tianqing was sent tumbling back over a meter by the sheer force.

"How is his strength this great!?"

Song Tianqing's eyes shot wide open, a flicker of shock on his face.

They both trained in the Iron Elephant Skill; any extra lessons he took outside were in martial skills, not cultivation methods.

Even if individual physiques caused slight differences in strength, it couldn't be this exaggerated.

From that single blow, Song Tianqing's tiger's mouth had gone numb, as if he had struck an iron pillar!

Han Zheng pressed his advantage without mercy. Spreading the frame of the Vajra Fist, his arms swung like Vajra Pestles, smashing wildly at Song Tianqing.

Every strike carried the weight of a thousand jun, each landing with a booming crack.

Song Tianqing was no fraud like Guo Mingyuan. His foundation was rock-solid, and his strength was no slouch either.

With a low shout, Song Tianqing's blood and qi surged and boiled. His body moved like lightning, his fist momentum raining down on Han Zheng like a storm.

Both of them were using the Vajra Fist.

But Han Zheng's Vajra Fist was heavy and forceful, step by step, prioritizing momentum.

Song Tianqing's Vajra Fist, on the other hand, was swift as the wind, laced with a hint of vicious, reckless moves.

The two clashed fist against fist, the crackling explosions echoing through the entire training ground.

The watching disciples' faces turned pale.

If it were them, they wouldn't last ten moves before being beaten bloody and coughing up blood.

After over a hundred exchanges, Song Tianqing's arms had gone numb, his qi and blood beginning to clog.

He couldn't understand—he had one more meridian opened than Han Zheng, able to draw on more internal force—so why was he so much weaker in strength?

Could the other be born with divine power?

But looking at Han Zheng's build, it would be more believable to say Li Sancheng was born with divine power than Han Zheng.

As Han Zheng steadily drove him back, Song Tianqing's body suddenly became ethereal and elusive.

His entire form twisted like a spirit snake, deflecting Han Zheng's punch. His left hand coiled around Han Zheng's arm, grabbing and wrenching.

His right hand turned from fist to fingers, stabbing straight at Han Zheng's eyes with such speed it let out a sharp whistle!

"Eight Snake Strikes!"

Li Jingzhong's expression shifted violently.

The Eight Snake Strikes was one of the signature skills of Cao Bin, the First Gang Leader of the Three Harmonies Gang, known as 'Green Scale Hand.'

What Guo Mingyuan had learned before, the Eagle Claw Skill, was only a Houtian martial art, but the Eight Snake Strikes was a genuine Xiantian martial art, encompassing fist techniques, body movement, grappling, and many other moves.

The martial artists of the three gangs in Black Stone County generally had no formal masters and followed few rules.

So as long as the money or benefits were enough, one could learn the Eagle Claw Skill just like Guo Mingyuan had.

But the Eight Snake Strikes was a Xiantian Martial Skill, Cao Bin's signature technique. If he'd even passed that on to Song Tianqing, heaven only knew how much silver Song Tianqing had spent.

In truth, Song Tianqing hadn't spent a single coin. All he'd given was a promise.

Of the Three Harmonies Gang's three leaders, Cao Bin wanted his son to inherit the chief's seat, but the other two wouldn't agree.

Song Tianqing simply promised Cao Bin that, once he became the Song Family's young master, he would throw his full support behind Cao Bin's son becoming the gang's chief.

It was nothing but an empty promise, but Song Tianqing's timing was impeccable. He'd snagged a Xiantian Martial Skill with nothing but smooth talk.

Originally, Song Tianqing hadn't planned to reveal the Eight Snake Strikes in a martial arts hall competition.

He'd intended to save it for the Song Family's internal tournament, catching the other Song disciples off guard.

But he never expected Han Zheng's strength to far exceed his predictions, forcing him to use the Eight Snake Strikes as his trump card.

If news of this fight reached the Song Family, his hidden strength would inevitably be exposed.

The more Song Tianqing thought about it, the angrier he grew, and a hint of Killing Intent even flickered in his eyes.

As Song Tianqing's finger nearly reached his face, every hair on Han Zheng's body stood on end, a chill surging through him.

The strike came too fast, too fierce—so swift that Han Zheng couldn't even turn his head to dodge.

He steadied his mind. The more critical the moment, the calmer his heart became.

Qi and blood surged within him as he pushed the Dragon Elephant Prajna Skill to its limit.

A colossal force gathered in Han Zheng's body. He suddenly shook, like a giant elephant stamping the earth with a furious roar, the power rippling through his entire frame as if an earthquake had struck!

Song Tianqing hadn't expected Han Zheng to have such a move. Half his body was still coiled around Han Zheng, and the sudden jolt from the Iron Elephant Stomp sent him careening off balance.

That finger, meant to pierce Han Zheng's skull, instead grazed past his ear, leaving a thin trail of blood.

A gleam of light flashed in Li Jingzhong's eyes as he looked at Han Zheng with surprise.

That move Han Zheng had just used, though powered by the Dragon Elephant Prajna Skill, was actually executed through the martial essence of the Iron Elephant Skill.

Iron Elephant Stomp, a force of a thousand jun.

Han Zheng's mastery of the Iron Elephant Skill had reached perfection. The move flowed with seamless naturalness, and since the Dragon Elephant Prajna Skill and the Iron Elephant Skill shared the same origin, Li Jingzhong couldn't even detect the other power woven in.

Many martial artists could grasp the essence of their skills.

But most techniques only trained raw power, a matter of grinding effort, so very few warriors ever refined their skill's true essence.

Even among those who did, only a handful could integrate it into actual combat.

Han Zheng was still only at the Houtian Realm. To have reached this point was already remarkable.

At the very least, Li Jingzhong himself had never managed such a feat at Han Zheng's age.

Touching the blood trail on his ear, a cold glint surfaced in Han Zheng's eyes.

Channeling the Dragon Elephant Prajna Skill within and unleashing the Iron Elephant Stomp without, Han Zheng took a single step, and the ground seemed to explode with a thunderous crack.

His Vajra Fist transformed into a Vajra Pestle crashing down from the sky, combined with the Iron Elephant Skill's momentum, creating an aura of a Vajra riding an elephant, subduing demons and vanquishing evil.

Song Tianqing scrambled to block, but the force of Han Zheng's Vajra Fist sent his qi and blood churning.

His Eight Snake Strikes were vicious and swift, with a secret movement technique woven in.

But Han Zheng had already brought out the Iron Elephant Skill's true essence. The Iron Elephant Stomp shook his entire qi and blood, and that overwhelming, heavy momentum perfectly countered the Eight Snake Strikes.

The moment Song Tianqing closed in, he was shaken until his qi and blood boiled over, then a Vajra Pestle smashed down, driving him back several steps.

And Han Zheng, pressing his advantage, gave no quarter. In the blink of an eye, Song Tianqing was forced to the edge of the training ground.

Zheng Zhishan shouted anxiously from outside, "Young master, concede! Stop fighting!

The family tournament is coming up—you can't afford to get hurt now!"

Song Tianqing acted as if he hadn't heard, a ruthless glint flashing in his eyes.

If he couldn't even beat these stepping stones in the martial arts hall, what right did he have to fight for the Song Family's young master position?

The moment Han Zheng knocked him back again, Song Tianqing let out a low shout, his qi and blood surging to their peak in an instant.

Spotting an opening as Han Zheng's fist came down, he shot forward like a snake striking with its tongue, a palm aimed straight for Han Zheng's throat!

This move abandoned all defense, burning nearly all of Song Tianqing's inner force—a true killing blow among killing blows.

The Vajra Fist was clumsy, and Han Zheng was caught in a gap between moves. Song Tianqing was betting that Han Zheng couldn't match his speed!

Li Jingzhong's expression shifted sharply, but he was too late to intervene.

At that moment, however, Han Zheng suddenly turned his fist into a palm. As his qi and blood surged, a bone-chilling Killing Intent erupted like a tidal wave.

The palm swept upward from below, like a long blade drawn from its sheath, carrying a fierce, dense Killing Intent that sent Song Tianqing flying backward!

Bang!

With a heavy crash, Song Tianqing hit the ground and spat out a mouthful of blood.

Song Tianqing had his trump card—did Han Zheng not have his own?

This was a public setting, so Han Zheng couldn't kill a member of the Song Family outright.

Otherwise, if he'd unleashed the Vajra Demon Subduing Seal, Song Tianqing wouldn't have just coughed up blood—his skull would have been shattered to pieces!

"Young Master!"

Zheng Zhishan hurried over and helped Song Tianqing to his feet.

"Let's go."

Song Tianqing fixed his gaze on Han Zheng, then stumbled away with Zheng Zhishan's support, not even waiting for Li Jingzhong to announce the result.

"This round, Han Zheng wins!"

Li Jingzhong looked at Han Zheng and nodded with satisfaction.

Han Zheng had only had the Blood Fiend Saber Art for a few days, yet he had already grasped the trick of condensing Killing Intent.

More importantly, his comprehension was excellent—he had been able to put it to use so quickly.

The surrounding martial arts disciples from commoner backgrounds erupted in cheers the moment Li Jingzhong declared the outcome.

It wasn't that they had won.

And it was true that most of them, after finishing their training, would still end up guarding the estates of wealthy landowners.

But at least in this moment, they could hold their heads high.