The Arena Deathmatch (Part 2)

In front of the martial arts school's training hall, a high stage was erected.

This was the fixed venue for the Martial Arts Competition. The stage was ten feet high and ten yards square, its ground paved with bluestone slabs that had been dyed a dark red by the blood of disciples from generations past.

The area below the stage was crowded.

Outer court disciples, laborers, and even a few inner court disciples stood watching from a distance.

Zhou Peng stood on the east side of the stage, accompanied by a few followers. He was sneering at Li Xuan.

Li Xuan stood among the laborers, holding an ordinary steel saber. It was bought from the blacksmith's shop with money pooled together by Zhang He and the others, costing two taels of silver.

"Li Xuan," Zhang He whispered, "How about... we just forget it? Look at Zhou Peng's eyes; he clearly wants you dead."

"I know," Li Xuan replied.

"Then you still..."

"If I don't go on the stage, will he let me live?" Li Xuan countered.

Zhang He was rendered speechless.

"Don't worry," Li Xuan patted his shoulder, "I won't die."

He didn't even believe the words himself.

But he felt he had to say something.

"Silence!"

On the stage, Steward Zhao walked out, his voice booming, "Today's Martial Arts Competition has the following rules: Laborers may challenge outer court disciples. If you win, you get promoted. If you lose... there are no rules regarding life or death!"

An uproar ensued below the stage.

No rules regarding life or death! They're serious this time!

"First match," Steward Zhao flipped open the roster, "Laborer Li Xuan challenges outer court disciple Wang Mang!"

As soon as the words fell, a burly man leaped onto the stage.

He was eight feet tall, with a broad back and a powerful build. His muscles bulged, making him look like a humanoid grizzly bear.

Wang Mang.

He stared at Li Xuan below the stage and grinned, revealing a set of yellow teeth, "Kid, come up and die."

Li Xuan gripped the saber hilt and walked onto the stage step by step.

The wound on his left arm throbbed with a dull ache.

But his steps were steady.

On the stage, the two stood facing each other.

"Wang Mang, Body Tempering third layer," Wang Mang cupped his fists, his voice like thunder.

"Li Xuan, laborer," Li Xuan returned the salute.

"Begin!"

As soon as Steward Zhao finished speaking, Wang Mang moved.

He had no intention of probing; he attacked with killing intent from the start!

Both fists shot out, the wind whistling, aiming straight for Li Xuan's face and chest.

Fast! Ruthless!

Li Xuan dodged sideways, his steel saber slashing diagonally.

Wind Breaking Style!

The saber light flashed like lightning, striking towards Wang Mang's arm.

Wang Mang did not dodge. He took the blow head-on with his left arm.

The blade struck his arm, emitting a sound like metal clashing against metal. It only left a white mark.

"Hardening technique?" someone below the stage exclaimed in surprise.

"More than that! Wang Mang practices 'Iron Arm Technique'; his arms are as hard as steel!"

Li Xuan's heart sank.

This is troublesome.

Wang Mang sneered, "Is that all?"

He stepped forward, his fists raining down like a storm.

Li Xuan could only dodge.

But the space on the stage was limited, and he was soon forced into a corner.

"Die!"

Wang Mang punched towards Li Xuan's temple.

If this punch landed, his head would surely shatter.

At the critical moment, Li Xuan twisted his waist, sliding past Wang Mang's arm, and simultaneously slashed his steel saber upwards towards his armpit.

The armpit was the weak point of the Iron Arm Technique!

Wang Mang's expression changed, and he retreated rapidly.

But the blade still grazed his armpit, leaving a bloody gash.

"Good!"

Someone in the audience cheered.

Wang Mang looked down at the wound, his eyes turning fierce: "You're courting death!"

He suddenly pulled a red pill from his embrace and popped it into his mouth.

"That's..." Steward Zhao's expression changed.

But it was too late to stop him.

Wang Mang swallowed the pill, his skin instantly turning crimson, veins bulging, and his eyes bloodshot.

Mad Blood Pill!

The medicine took effect!

"Roar--!"

Wang Mang let out a non-human roar, his entire body swelling by a noticeable amount, muscles bulging like they were about to explode.

His strength surged!

He took a step forward, and the bluestone slabs of the arena cracked!

"Die!"

A punch came flying, the wind pressure making Li Xuan struggle to breathe.

Can't take this head-on!

Li Xuan gritted his teeth and unleashed the Wind Breaking Style with all his might, his blade light like a net, attempting to block.

Clang, clang, clang, clang!

Seven consecutive slashes all landed on Wang Mang's fist.

But the blade couldn't break through his defense. Instead, it vibrated so hard that Li Xuan's tiger mouth split open, and he almost dropped his steel saber.

"Too weak!" Wang Mang laughed maniacally and threw another punch.

This punch was faster, fiercer!

Li Xuan couldn't dodge and could only block with the saber's body.

The steel saber was bent by the punch, and Li Xuan was sent flying backward, crashing into a pillar at the edge of the arena, spitting out a mouthful of blood.

His ribs were broken.

At least three of them.

"Li Xuan!" Zhang He roared from below the stage.

Zhou Peng smiled, a hearty laugh.

It was over.

Wang Mang walked over step by step, like a cat playing with a mouse: "Kid, any last words?"

Li Xuan pushed himself up using the pillar, wiping the blood from the corner of his mouth.

He looked at the bent saber in his hand, then at his status panel.

[Potential: 0.12]

All added to Strength!

[Strength: 1.22 → 1.34]

Not enough!

Still far from enough!

Li Xuan's eyes turned red.

He had to go all out!

He took a deep breath, mobilizing all the vital energy and blood in his body, circulating it furiously according to the path of the Blade Breaking Saber Technique.

Second Form—Stream Breaking!

He hadn't even mastered this form. Forcing it might rupture his meridians.

But he couldn't care about that now!

"Kill—!"

Li Xuan roared, shooting forward like an arrow loosed from a bow.

He raised his curved saber high, a faint bloody light glowing on its blade.

That was a sign of his vital energy and blood burning!

"Last struggle." Wang Mang sneered, throwing out a punch.

Fist against saber!

A head-on collision!

Everyone thought Li Xuan was doomed.

But the moment the fist and saber met—

Li Xuan's saber technique changed.

Not a slash, but a thrust!

The saber tip precisely pierced the gap in Wang Mang's fist, the weakest point of his Iron Arm technique!

Squelch!

The saber tip sank into flesh, piercing straight through the back of his hand!

"Ah—!" Wang Mang screamed.

But Li Xuan didn't stop.

He gripped the saber hilt and twisted hard!

The blade churned inside Wang Mang's arm, breaking tendons and bones!

Wang Mang writhed in agony, reaching for Li Xuan's head with his other hand.

But Li Xuan was faster.

He abandoned his saber, surged forward, and thrust his right hand, fingers like a blade, fiercely into the wound under Wang Mang's armpit—

It was already injured, the weakest point for defense!

His fingers sank three inches into the flesh!

Li Xuan grabbed a bone and yanked!

Crack!

His clavicle snapped!

Wang Mang let out a piercing scream, his whole body going limp.

Li Xuan withdrew his fingers, his hand covered in blood.

He staggered back, leaning against a pillar, gasping for air.

The wound on his left arm burst open, blood gushing out.

Three ribs were broken, and every breath sent sharp pain through him.

But he was still standing.

Wang Mang lay on the ground, convulsing, blood foam spilling from his mouth.

The Mad Blood Pill's effects had worn off, and the backlash had arrived.

He was finished.

Below the stage, the crowd was dead silent.

Everyone stared at Li Xuan as if he were a monster.

A menial laborer defeated a Body Tempering third layer disciple who had taken a Mad Blood Pill?

How was this possible?

"The winner is…" Steward Zhao took a deep breath, "Li Xuan!"

Whoosh—

The crowd erupted.

The menial laborers cheered, while the disciples were stunned.

Zhou Peng's face turned ashen, his fists clenching with a cracking sound.

Useless!

All of them are useless!

Li Xuan bent down, picked up his curved saber from the ground, and walked off the stage step by step.

Each step felt like treading on a blade.

But his back was straight.

As he passed Zhou Peng, he stopped.

"Senior Brother Zhou," Li Xuan said, his voice hoarse, "I concede."

Those two words were like two slaps across Zhou Peng's face.

Zhou Peng's eyes were filled with malice, but he said nothing.

Li Xuan left.

Zhang He and Wang Laoshi helped him toward the medical clinic.

Behind them, cheers erupted like a tide.

From this day forward, the name Li Xuan would be known throughout the martial arts school.

In the medical clinic.

Li Xuan lay on the bed while a clinic disciple reset his bones.

"Three ribs are broken, the wound on your left arm has split open, and you've lost too much blood," the disciple said, shaking his head. "You'll have to lie here for at least a month."

"No," Li Xuan said.

"No what?" the disciple exclaimed. "What more do you want? If you move again, you'll lose your life!"

Li Xuan remained silent.

He looked out the window.

Zhou Peng wouldn't give him a month.