640, Zhao Futu, Defeated! Ouyang Feng Didn't Want to Lose

At that moment.

The freshmen still hadn't noticed Zhao Futu's disadvantage.

They were still cheering him on without a break.

They had lost two matches in a row and desperately needed a victory to save face.

In the previous two fights,

Kong Yue had wanted to toy with a fool, only to end up getting beaten like one herself.

Fang Jinlong had wanted to ride to the rescue like a lone hero, but in the end he'd lost both his pride and his dignity. He'd been defeated in three moves, and judging by the white-clad swordsman's manner, using three moves had been a courtesy.

So now that Zhao Futu had held his own against his opponent for so many rounds, there was still a good chance he could win.

But.

Just then.

A faint smile appeared on the Body Refiner's face.

"Kid, you're pretty good."

"But if you want to challenge me, come back in a hundred years."

With that, the Body Refiner's aura surged once more.

A faint red glow even radiated from his skin.

He looked just like a peerless fiend god emerging from ancient times.

Zhao Futu clearly hadn't expected this.

Even at this point, his opponent still had strength in reserve.

Seeing his opponent's transformation, Zhao Futu's first instinct was to run.

But this was the Arena Platform.

He could lose, but he absolutely couldn't run.

Zhao Futu gritted his teeth until they nearly cracked, then suddenly roared and charged at his opponent.

The Body Refiner threw a punch.

It looked like an utterly calm, unremarkable punch.

It was incredibly slow, as if it were moving in slow motion.

It was plain and ordinary, the sort of punch even a little kid—someone who'd never trained in martial arts—could easily block.

But in Zhao Futu's eyes,

it