As the battle wore on, Ye Ziheng's heart sank.
The relaxed look on his face had long since vanished, replaced by an unprecedented gravity. The unease that had lingered in his heart from the very beginning was growing stronger by the moment.
After the initial probing, his anonymous opponent abandoned the Foundation Building Fist, whose level of mastery was exceptionally high, and switched to another, far more powerful style of boxing.
Ye Ziheng immediately brought out a defensive boxing style to counter him, but the crushing pressure bearing down on him still pushed him step by step into an increasingly difficult position.
"That's the Tiger Fiend Fist, isn't it? It looks a lot like Gao Yin's style, but why does this guy's technique feel so much more vicious and forceful?"
Ye Ziheng quickly shook off the absurd thought.
Gao Yin was one of the top ten students in First High School's elite class. His Blood-Qi Value had already broken seven during today's exam. How could this anonymous fourth-stage Martial Warrior in front of him possibly compare?
It must be the pressure getting to me. My thoughts are in disarray, and that's why I'm misjudging him... I have to calm down if I want to find an opening and beat him. Otherwise, defeat is certain...
Ye Ziheng drew a deep breath, immediately reined in his emotions, and forced himself to settle down.
The self-adjustment seemed to work. Once he had calmed down, the crushing pressure that had felt suffocating seemed to ease a little.
He focused even more intently on the fight, watching his opponent closely as they traded attacks and defenses, searching for a chance to break through.
Thus, as Ye Ziheng struggled to hold on, the battle remained in a delicate balance for the time being. To him, it seemed he still had a chance of winning.
He raised his arm and blocked another Crushing Fist from his opponent. The clever force sent him stumbling back two steps, but then he noticed that the enemy hadn't pressed the advantage. Instead, he had retreated half a step, which was highly unusual.
As Ye Ziheng wondered why, the man suddenly opened his mouth.
"Aow—om!!!"
His opponent had actually let out a low growl at him.
"???"
"Is this guy nuts? Did he practice the Tiger Fiend Fist until he went crazy, and now he's pretending to be a tiger?"
"But why does that sound so creepy? My Blood-Qi feels like it's stirring."
Ye Ziheng did feel a faint tightness in his chest. He guessed that the sudden shout had startled him, and couldn't help cursing under his breath again.
He was certain his opponent was humiliating him. This had to be some kind of taunting tactic, meant to throw him off balance, so he hurriedly steadied his mind and calmed his thoughts again.
Fortunately, the slight discomfort in his chest faded on its own before long.
At first, Ye Ziheng thought his opponent had simply gone berserk for some reason, and didn't pay it much mind.
But as the fight continued, he increasingly sensed that something was wrong.
The anonymous fighter still had a firm grip on the overall flow of the battle. But whenever he seized the initiative, he no longer pressed the advantage as he had before. Instead, whenever he got the chance, he would let out another shout.
Most of the time, the sound only made Ye Ziheng's ears ache; the rest of his body felt fine. But every so often, the growl seemed to carry a strange power, leaving his chest tight, his thoughts in turmoil, or his head throbbing. The symptoms varied from one time to the next.
After such a prolonged confrontation, Ye Ziheng felt more and more certain that something was wrong. He wasn't a dullard, and he had some experience. After enduring so much "torment," he suddenly realized the truth: his opponent was using him as practice while cultivating some kind of sound-wave technique!
But how was that possible?
Sound-wave techniques had an extremely high barrier to entry. Usually, only high-stage Martial Warriors with a Blood-Qi Value above nine, who had begun refining their own Acupoints, were qualified to study them.
That wasn't only because sound-wave techniques were exceedingly rare. They also demanded almost impossibly high standards of physical fitness and control from the practitioner.
As far as he knew, the essence of sound-wave techniques lay in using precise control over one's internal organs and throat muscles to produce powerful vibrations at specific frequencies. These vibrations would then set the surrounding air resonating, converting the energy within the body into special sound waves capable of striking or disrupting their target.
The principle sounded simple, but in practice, it required an almost microscopic degree of control over the body. Otherwise, a person could shout until their throat gave out and still accomplish nothing.
How had this anonymous fighter, whose Blood-Qi Value was only 4.51, managed it?
Could his control over his own body really have reached that level?
Was he a monster!?
But... if he was such a monster, why was his win rate on the Heaven Martial Battle Net barely above fifty percent?
How... did that make any sense?
Ye Ziheng remembered the "previous encounter" tag in his opponent's profile when they had been matched up. He couldn't help doubting himself.
I've actually met this monster before. In that case, I must have lost to him—but how could I have no memory of an opponent this extraordinary?
Although he hadn't played many ranked matches over the past two months in order to manage his win rate, he downloaded and rewatched recordings of every defeat, reviewing what had gone wrong. He was confident he could remember every opponent who had beaten him.
Suddenly, an even more unbelievable possibility flashed through his mind.
Uh... could it be... that I actually beat him last time?... How is that possible?
And yet, once every unreasonable possibility had been ruled out, the one that remained—no matter how incredible—was very likely the truth.
Ye Ziheng quickly searched his memory for the opponents he had been matched against recently. Fortunately, he rarely played ranked matches, so his match history wasn't complicated. It didn't take long for him to recall a victory from about a month ago as a point of comparison.
In that match, he had faced an opponent with an unusual fighting style.
Normally, with a Blood-Qi Value close to five and an overwhelming advantage at the time, he should have been able to finish the fight in just a few exchanges. But his opponent had used a well-practiced Foundation Building Fist to keep him busy for quite a while, so the match had left him with some impression.
It's him! It has to be! The anonymous name, the build, the boxing style—and especially that rock-solid Foundation Building Fist—all match the person in front of me!
But if I remember correctly, his Blood-Qi Value had only just passed three a month ago...
How could his Blood-Qi Value have risen so explosively in just a month? And even more absurdly, how had he maintained such terrifyingly high Body Control Degree while his Blood-Qi was surging?
The more Ye Ziheng thought about it, the more alarmed he became. His thoughts were in chaos, and the distracting tiger-like roars kept coming. His performance in the fight plummeted.
I can't keep fighting!
He made his decision: the outcome of this battle was already settled, and there was no point continuing.
More importantly, he had to pull up the previous recording right away—right this instant—and confirm the horrifying suspicion that had made his scalp tingle!
This anonymous fighter's rate of growth defied all common sense. Getting to the bottom of it mattered far more than the outcome of this ranked match!
Without hesitation, Ye Ziheng surrendered.
Before you continue