An incense stick's worth of time passed in a flash.
On the Training Ground, the fights on all three platforms began at once.
"First match of the second round: Zhang Meng versus Wang Wu!"
At the steward's command, Zhang Meng—the hulking, iron-tower-like fifth-place finisher in the previous War Hall tournament—stepped onto the central platform with another skilled member of the gang.
The fight began quickly and ended even faster.
Against the powerful Zhang Meng, Wang Wu lasted fewer than ten moves.
Zhang Meng seized an opening and drove a Savage Bull Fist into Wang Wu's chest.
Wang Wu flew off the platform like a cannonball and crashed to the ground. His chest had caved in. He was clearly not going to survive.
Zhang Meng's commanding victory made the atmosphere below the platform even more tense.
Most of the matches that followed were just as one-sided.
Those who had made it through the hundred-man melee were no weaklings, but the gaps in strength were still obvious.
Soon, it was Lu Chen's turn.
"Group Ten: Lu Chen versus Zhang San!"
As the steward called out the names, gang members flocked to the foot of the platform on the south side of the Training Ground.
Compared with the matches before it, which had held no suspense, this one promised a better show.
On one side was the newcomer who had stood out in the melee, renowned for his strength and defense: Lu Iron Skin.
On the other was a seasoned fighter of the War Hall, long famous as "Mad Dog" Zhang San.
Everyone wanted to see whether the newcomer's skin was tougher, or the mad dog's teeth sharper.
"Kid, I hear you can take a beating. Let's see if your bones are harder than my blade!"
Zhang San leaped onto the platform first, Ring-pommel Saber in hand.
He was lean and muscular, his eyes bloodshot and wild with madness.
Lu Chen said nothing. He walked onto the platform and took his place opposite Zhang San.
He still didn't draw his saber. His hands hung naturally at his sides, and he stood as if he were leaving himself undefended.
"Are you looking to die?"
Zhang San flew into a rage at the sight.
Lu Chen's stance was a blatant show of contempt.
"Die!"
Without another word, Zhang San roared and drove off the ground, shooting toward Lu Chen.
His Ring-pommel Saber swept through the air in an arc.
He didn't aim for Lu Chen's vital points. Instead, from a vicious angle, he slashed toward Lu Chen's groin.
The move was vicious and reckless.
That was Zhang San's style: wild as a madman, without rhyme or reason. Every strike was a gamble with his life, meant to crush his opponent's resolve with sheer ferocity.
Facing the vicious slash, Lu Chen's gaze remained calm.
He didn't meet it head-on. He simply shifted half a step and turned slightly, letting the blade pass.
His first strike missed, and Zhang San's assault grew even more savage.
His Ring-pommel Saber became a curtain of blades, hacking, chopping, slashing, and stabbing, every move aimed at Lu Chen's vital points.
There was no method to his swordplay. He simply relied on a streak of brutality, slashing wildly.
Lu Chen's response, however, left everyone stunned.
He gave up.
He abandoned any thought of counterattacking.
Against Zhang San's storm of attacks, he did nothing but dodge and block across the platform.
If he could evade, he did so with the smallest movement possible.
If he couldn't, he took the blow on the thickly muscled parts of his body: his arms, shoulders, or back.
Clang! Thud! Clang!
The dull impacts rang without pause.
Zhang San's Ring-pommel Saber struck Lu Chen again and again.
But what happened next left even Zhang San shaken.
Every slash felt like it had hit tough leather.
The force of the rebound made his wrists go numb.
And Lu Chen, apart from the tears in his clothes that exposed the bronze-colored skin beneath, was completely unharmed.
Blows that could Split Stone and Crack Stele left no more than fleeting white marks on his body.
"Wh-what is he? Is he even human?"
The spectators below gaped, their mouths wide enough to fit an egg.
They had seen Body Cultivation experts with impressive skills, but never anyone this formidable.
Using your body to withstand the full-force blows of a martial artist of equal rank was unheard of.
"I don't believe it! Break already!"
Zhang San had worked himself into a frenzy, his eyes blood-red.
He poured all his strength into his saber and unleashed a furious barrage against Lu Chen.
He slashed, punched, kicked, even headbutted...
He used every means he could, sticking close to Lu Chen.
No matter how he attacked, Lu Chen stood unmoving, like a reef battered by the waves.
Meanwhile, under the strain of his relentless assault, Zhang San's breathing grew ragged, and fine beads of sweat appeared on his forehead.
The speed and force of his swings began to fall at a visible rate.
The recoil had left his arms numb and aching.
His grip had even split open, and blood seeped from it.
"Out of strength... already?"
Lu Chen, who had been silent all along, finally spoke.
His voice was calm, but it struck Zhang San's heart like a heavy hammer.
Zhang San froze and looked at Lu Chen.
Lu Chen looked a little disheveled, but his breathing was even and his eyes clear. He didn't look remotely exhausted.
He'd been playing with him.
From beginning to end, he'd been making a fool of him.
A crushing sense of humiliation and helplessness drowned out Zhang San's reason.
"Argh! I'll take you down with me!"
With a roar, Zhang San used the last of his strength. Gripping his saber in both hands, he leaped high into the air and brought it down with all his weight, aiming a mighty chop at the crown of Lu Chen's head.
It was his final strike, with everything on the line.
Facing the desperate blow, Lu Chen slowly raised his right arm.
He used no technique. He simply lifted it to block.
Clang!!!
A piercing clash of metal rang out.
Zhang San's Ring-pommel Saber struck Lu Chen's forearm squarely.
Sparks flew.
The immense impact chipped the saber's edge.
Lu Chen's arm bore nothing but a white mark.
Zhang San froze.
He stared at the chipped blade, then at Lu Chen, who was completely unharmed. The madness in his eyes faded, leaving only bottomless fear and despair.
All his pride and confidence had become a joke before his opponent.
In that moment, his mental defenses completely crumbled.
Now.
A flash lit Lu Chen's eyes. He seized the instant Zhang San's strength gave out and his focus wavered.
His blocking arm twisted with the motion, and his fingers clamped around Zhang San's saber-wielding wrist like iron pincers.
Then he clenched his left fist, drove the power up from his hips and back, and slammed a plain, unadorned punch into Zhang San's chest with the force of a thousand jun.
Bang!!!
A thunderous crash.
Zhang San's body was struck head-on by a battering ram. His chest visibly caved in.
He couldn't even scream. He went flying, tracing an arc through the air before crashing beneath the platform and kicking up a cloud of dust.
The whole arena fell silent.
Everyone was too stunned by the sight to speak.
A War Hall fighter famed for his frenzied style had been worn down until he broke, then punched off the platform in the simplest, most primal way imaginable.
This wasn't a victory.
It was a crushing defeat.
A display of Absolute Strength and Absolute Defense.
On the platform,
Lu Chen slowly lowered his fist. He glanced at Zhang San, who had passed out below, then at the white mark on his own arm, and gently blew on it.
Then he raised his head and calmly swept his gaze over the spectators, who stood frozen below.
Everyone who met his eyes lowered their heads involuntarily.
From that moment on, no one dared think of him as an ordinary newcomer.
High above on the Viewing Platform, Zhao Tieshan watched the figure standing on the platform. He wasn't particularly imposing, yet he stood with the steadiness of a mountain. Admiration filled Zhao Tieshan's eyes.
But mixed with that admiration was a deep unease.
Body Cultivation of this level had already surpassed what Stone Crushing Palm could achieve.
Just what other secrets was this kid named Lu Chen hiding?
Before you continue