Fierce Battle

Zong Ping's hair stood on end at the sight, even the yellow tufts on his head bristling upright.

He had some understanding of Pao Fist and realized in his heart that things were looking dire.

This move has such immense momentum, it must be nearing perfection! I cannot meet it head-on!

In the public perception, Tiger Form was known for its ferocity, and few who didn't practice it realized the agility inherent to the tiger.

No sooner said than done, Zong Ping shaped his hands into tiger claws, alternating them to guard his chest, preparing to use a soft force to deflect the strike with the leverage of four ounces against a thousand pounds.

Cun Step was the best partner for Pao Fist; Zong Ping only understood Pao Fist but not Cun Step, which was a grave mistake!

Seeing his opponent prepare to take the blow instead of dodging, Meng Chuan was overjoyed.

The buildup for Cun Step required time, and his opponent's actions played right into his hands!

"That's about enough; any more buildup and someone might die."

His back foot kicked off the ground with a loud bang, the terrifying explosive power nearly causing Meng Chuan to stomp a crater into the ring.

He swept toward Zong Ping like a gale, his presence arriving before his body!

Eight dull, explosive sounds echoed through the air—it was the mastery of Eight Explosions of the Cannon!

My guess was right, it really is nearing the perfection of nine explosions.

But why is this explosive power so strong?

Zong Ping was frozen in place by the sheer pressure, the gale-force wind forcing his eyes shut; he felt that this punch would kill him.

"Uncle! Save me!"

The principal had been waiting on the sidelines all along; as a high-level Hua Jin expert with Nine Qi Bloods, he naturally intercepted Meng Chuan's heavy punch with ease.

The wind from the punch vented wildly behind him, blowing Zong Ping's bangs straight back.

"Holy crap, the principal is your uncle?"

The sound of fists and feet on the stage was too loud, and only Meng Chuan heard this little secret.

Thinking of how the principal's surname was Zong and this kid's surname was also Zong, it seemed this was no coincidence.

Zong Ping smiled bitterly and nodded:

"Truly, there is always someone better, and mountains beyond mountains. I concede."

His own talent was enough to attend the elite preparatory class at Yong'an Martial Arts University; he never expected to stumble at the small Ping'an Middle School.

Meng Chuan cupped his fists and said:

"I accept your concession!"

He then turned to look at the crowd below, remembering his master's expectations for him, and declared loudly:

"Xingyi is the best!"

Those who practiced Xingyi below went wild, raising their hands in cheers:

"Meng Chuan is awesome!"

"Xingyi martial arts are number one in the world!"

Watching this scene, Meng Chuan felt for the first time the true atmosphere of winning a martial arts match, and he found himself reveling in it.

Qi Fei also awkwardly cupped his hands to offer congratulations:

"Impressive, Meng Chuan."

Seeing this, Meng Chuan responded with a smile; it was just a clash of youthful spirit between students, no need to take it too seriously.

The principal called Qi Fei up to the stage as well, then formally announced:

"First, starting next semester, these two powerful juniors will be attending classes with all of you. Let's give them a round of applause!"

This time, the applause was not sparse; students didn't have so many ulterior motives, and the strength of Meng Chuan and Zong Ping had earned everyone's respect.

"Awesome! Awesome!"

Thunderous applause and cheers erupted throughout the Yuanshen Martial Arts Hall.

"Secondly, the school will sponsor the first-place winner, Meng Chuan, with a 100,000 yuan scholarship, the second-place winner, Zong Ping, with 50,000 yuan, and the third-place winner, Qi Fei, with 10,000 yuan!"

Hearing that the principal was going to award him 100,000 yuan, Meng Chuan was truly surprised.

Is the school this rich? A final exam awards this much?

The principal paused for a moment before continuing:

"Finally, the top three of this exam—Meng Chuan, Zong Ping, and Qi Fei—will represent our Ping'an Middle School in the Twenty-Four Schools Joint Examination for Yong'an City high schools in early October. I hope you can win glory for our school! Create new brilliance!"

In the end, the first competition of Meng Chuan's life drew to a close amidst the applause.

Yuanshen Martial Arts Hall.

Inside a secret chamber.

An old man and a man in a black trench coat sat opposite each other, the atmosphere in the room strange and turbulent.

The man in black wore a mask with a Void pattern, the corners of the mouth appearing as if smeared with paint.

A massive white V-shape at the corners of the mouth resembled the crazed grin of a clown.

"Yuan Huan, have you considered it?"

The old man remained silent.

The masked man extended his right palm, from which black smoke gradually emerged, followed by a jagged, grinding sound like a giant maw splitting open.

A strange object, resembling a seed and glowing with a purple-black luster, slowly surfaced from the fissure in his palm.

The man in black wore a sincere expression, muttering some inexplicable incantation under his breath.

As the incantation was chanted, the seed slowly began to change, the black light around it growing increasingly intense.

The old man opposite him wore a grave expression, staring down at the scene, the wrinkles on his forehead twisting into a dense, tangled mess.

Finally, with a "rip" sound, the seed cracked open, and something like a miniature black gourd broke through the shell.

Once the small gourd hatched, its movements returned to stillness, and the black and purple light vanished instantly.

"Do you see it, Yuan Huan? This is the Seed of Fear."

"As long as you swallow it, you can be like us, possessing the abilities of a Heavenly Demon, relying on the power of fear to increase your strength and thereby gain more lifespan."

"You don't have many years left to live, do you, Yuan Huan? This vast Martial Arts Arena, the status of a Martial Artist revered by thousands—do you not want these anymore?"

The old man swept his sleeve, overturning the tea table, and retorted with furious indignation:

"Who do you think I am?"

"I have braved death countless times, venturing deep into the Demon Nest to slay countless Heavenly Demons. Though I am old now, my students are everywhere, and I am the renowned Heaven-Supporting Arm, Yuan Huan!"

"What is there to fear about death? How could I ever collude with filth like you!"

Hearing Yuan Huan's righteous words, the masked man laughed until he doubled over.

"Heh heh heh heh, Yuan Huan, you're going to be the death of me. Stop the act—if you didn't want to collude, why are you sitting here so calmly with me?"

"You were never a good person to begin with! At 22, you followed your classmates into the Demon Nest for the first time, and you were the only one who came out alive, despite having the lowest strength among them."

"At 28, you murdered your own brother just to inherit the martial arts hall; at 38, you killed your mentor to seize the Zhenwu."

"At 70, your wife of forty years discovered your little secret, and you killed her with a single palm strike without a shred of emotion."

"And countless strangers have been ruthlessly killed by you simply because they stood in the way of your interests."

"You are a beast lower than a pig or a dog! Stop pretending to be a saint in front of me!"

Yuan Huan broke into a cold sweat, his face changing drastically!

These were secrets buried deep in his heart; how could he possibly know them?

"Our methods are far beyond your imagination. We have stripped your secrets bare; honest cooperation is your best choice."

The masked man gave him some time to think.

Then, his tone softened, and he said slowly:

"But these very things prove that we are on the same path; at this moment, we are kindred spirits meeting on the road."

"Join us."

"Join... the glorious evolution!"

As the words fell, a deathly silence filled the room.

In an instant, Yuan Huan seemed to let go of a heavy burden and nodded heavily.

An eerie expression, one he had never shown to outsiders, appeared on his face.

"But before that, I need to find a test subject first..."