Roadside Stray or Heavenly True Dragon?

Jiang Yan's face fell, and he muttered, "Eldest Brother, can't you say something nice to comfort me?"

Qin Wangchuan didn't even lift his eyelids. "I've already comforted you. It's all about willpower and courage."

"But it's alright, if you die, you die. You can fight your way back to life."

Jiang Yan: "Pull... pull?"

He wanted to say a few more words, but the bell below rang loudly, officially starting the first round of elimination matches.

Looking down at the bustling arena filled with strong competitors, he slapped his face hard.

"Never mind! Willpower, courage!" Jiang Yan's eyes rekindled with fighting spirit. "Even if they are reincarnated True Dragon, I'll still knock out a few of their teeth!"

Qin Wangchuan sat quietly to the side, watching Jiang Yan regain his fighting spirit, his gaze deep and unfathomable.

"You are the biggest variable in this Martial Arts Competition," he murmured to himself.

This young man, who fought his way up from the Lower Realm, has never lacked strength.

It's not about being confident, but about having confidence.

Since stepping into this world, having suffered so many beatings and lost countless times, and having witnessed the so-called Prodigy of the Upper Realm, Jiang Yan has been unconsciously shrouded in a layer of inferiority.

But he seemed to have forgotten that in just three months, he had broken through two major realms and mastered more than ten Supreme Cultivation Method.

All of this is enough to prove the astonishing potential hidden within this body.

However, the inferiority complex brought from the Lower Realm acted like a layer of solid ice, firmly sealing away this power.

At this moment, Jiang Yan might be kicked to death by someone like a stray dog on the street, or he might become an overnight sensation.

Whether it's a dragon or a worm, no one can say for sure.

The bell tolled nine times, and the world fell silent.

A magnificent pillar of light shot into the sky from the center of the Meteorite Arena. Within the pillar, the phantom of an elder from the Tongtian Family appeared, his voice echoing across the surrounding area:

"Welcome to all the Prodigy from every state. Without further ado, there's only one rule—whoever falls off the ring or voluntarily concedes defeat."

"Now, the Grand Competition officially begins!"

As soon as the words were spoken, all nine main arenas in the center of the arena simultaneously lit up with dazzling light.

On the third arena, Du Yao, a disciple of the Star Evolution Sect, stood with his hands behind his back.

His opponent was a cultivator wielding a flaming spear, who came onto the stage with a degree of prejudice.

"The men of the Star Evolution Sect are all pretty boys after all. You're pretending to borrow the power of the stars, but your real intention is to flaunt your good looks, aren't you?"

Upon hearing this, Du Yao merely smiled faintly, "The people of the Chiyan Gate are indeed all fools." Then, his eyes suddenly sharpened, "I'll defeat you in one move!"

At the referee's command, the spear-wielding cultivator was the first to attack.

With a flick of the gun tip, a scorching storm erupted, and he charged forward like an arrow. "Easy talk is easy, but take this!"

Du Yao remained calm and slowly raised his hand, starlight swirling at his fingertips. "Star Illusion Lock."

Seven cold stars suddenly appeared around the gunman, connecting to form shackles.

The gunman's charge came to an abrupt halt, his entire body frozen in place, even the raging flames seemed to freeze in mid-air.

"Star Break." Du Yao clenched his fist lightly.

The starlight shackles suddenly contracted, and the Protective Astral Energy surrounding the gunman shattered instantly.

He grunted, flying backwards with his gun, crashing heavily off the stage.

The room fell silent for a moment, then erupted into a heated discussion.

An old cultivator familiar with the situation stroked his beard and sighed, "The Chiyan Gate and the Star Evolution Sect have a long-standing feud. Du Yao's ruthless attack right from the start shows that the enmity between the two sects is only getting deeper."

"As expected of the Star Evolution Sect's once-in-a-century Prodigy!" someone chimed in. "Look at how effortlessly he handles it, without even moving an inch. He's definitely a top contender for the championship!"

Throughout the entire ordeal, Du Yao didn't move an inch. He merely glanced at his opponent below the stage before turning and leaving.

On the seventh arena, the Vajra Gate Shi Jian stood as firm as an iron tower, his voice booming like a bell. "Young brother, with a body like yours, a gust of wind could blow you over, yet you dare to challenge the arena?"

"Fine, I'll let you have three moves, so no one will say I'm bullying you."

His opponent was a thin, shifty-eyed cultivator who immediately bowed and smiled obsequiously upon hearing this, "Eldest Brother, you are so kind! I, Zhang San, beg you to show mercy!"

Zhang San pretended to Hand Seals, and three rusty short swords flew shakily toward Shi Jian, striking his chest with a crisp "clang" before bouncing away.

"Second move!" Shi Jian laughed heartily, patting the white mark on his chest.

Zhang San's eyes darted around, and suddenly he threw out a handful of white powder from his sleeve.

Shi Jian instinctively closed his eyes and waved his sleeve to block, only to find that it was just ordinary flour.

"What tricks are you playing!" Shi Jian glared angrily.

"Last move, last move!" Zhang San, with a fawning smile on his face, manipulated the three rusty short swords and once again tremblingly thrust them towards Shi Jian's chest.

Shi Jian didn't even glance at them. With a casual wave of his large, fan-like hand, he swatted all the short swords away, and chuckled in a deep, gruff voice, "Is that all you've got? You can't even tickle me..."

Before he could finish speaking, something unexpected happened!

Of the short swords that Zhang San seemed to have been knocked away, one of them unexpectedly twisted in mid-air and, with lightning speed, stabbed straight at Shi Jian's ankle!

This wasn't meant to injure the enemy, but rather to cause him pain and distract him, causing him to instinctively open his defenses wide.

In that split second when Shi Jian's center of gravity shifted slightly, Zhang San made his move!

He no longer showed any flattery; his eyes were as cold as a venomous snake, and his figure moved like a ghost, skimming along the ground. His right hand, with fingers pointing like a cone, concentrated all his strength into a single point.

With unparalleled precision, it pierced straight through Shi Jian's most vulnerable spot—the lower body—a common weakness for both men and those skilled in external martial arts!

"Ugh--!"

Shi Jian let out a painful groan, his eyes bulging out instantly, all his arrogance and disdain frozen on his face, and he fainted from the pain.

The entire room Deathly Stillness; many even covered their genitals, looking at Zhang San with apprehension.

In contrast, Zhang San got up as if nothing had happened, brushing the dust off his clothes while bowing repeatedly to the surrounding stands with his neck hunched over.

"You all saw it! He was the one who offered me three moves. I've never heard of such a good thing in my life."

"Winning in three moves? Pure luck, pure luck!"

Without waiting for the referee to announce the result, he dashed into the crowd and disappeared.

The crowd in the stands then realized what was happening, and immediately a chorus of curses erupted:

"That's so despicable!"

"Whose disciple is this? He's utterly disgraced cultivators!"

"They actually used such methods..."

Meanwhile, Zhang San, or rather Yang Junhao, was already hiding in a corner, muttering to himself, "Yes, yes, it was all Zhang San's doing. Blame Zhang San for everything."

"The twenty-second arena..."

As the matches progressed, the atmosphere in the arena gradually became more and more heated.

When Mo Qingchen used the Tortoise Shell to set up a nine-layered illusion array, trapping and killing his fifth opponent, and when Tieshan allowed the seventh challenger to collapse from exhaustion on his back, a sharp-eyed cultivator finally noticed—

These invincible and ruthless figures are now all looking up at the main arena in the very center.

There, Feng Qingjue's skirt swept across the jade steps.

Amidst this enthusiastic atmosphere, the referee's voice resounded throughout the stadium:

"In the next round, Feng Qingjue face Du Yao!"

The sound spread, and all eyes in the arena instantly focused on the central main arena.

One is a peerless Empress recruits potential Prodigy everywhere, and the other is a rising star Prodigy whose talent is on full display. The anticipation for this duel is at its peak.

Du Yao was the first to step onto the stage, his body shimmering with starlight.

He gazed at Feng Qingjue as she slowly approached, his eyes burning with fighting spirit. "I've finally waited for you."

Feng Qingjue, her skirt fluttering slightly, stopped three zhang away from him and smiled, "I watched your previous competition. Using the power of stars to transform invisible shackles with effortless ease, very impressive."

Her tone was calm, as if she were commenting on a junior. "If you were given another ten years to hone your skills, you would surely become a figure Surpassing Ancient and Modern." She then subtly shifted her focus, her phoenix eyes holding a sincere invitation. "I have a grand ambition, and I need someone like you. Would you consider coming to my side?"

Upon hearing this, Du Yao raised an eyebrow, his expression a mix of arrogance and scrutiny. "Is this considered recruitment?"

"Yes," Feng Qingjue admitted.

"Since that's the case," Du Yao said, starlight gathering at his fingertips, his tone carrying a hint of provocation and a touch of challenge, "If you step down now, I might... consider it."

He knew that the person in front of him was perhaps the strongest, and also the most formidable opponent in the championship race.

With her stepping down, my chances of winning have increased by more than 10%.

Feng Qingjue gently shook her head, her tone tinged with a hint of regret. "Non-Self don't want to let you have it. It's just that even if I step down now, with your abilities, you won't make it to the end and won first place."