Lu Ming spat out a mouthful of crimson blood on the spot. He was sent flying as if he had been struck head-on by a mountain, tracing a miserable arc through the air before crashing heavily onto the plaza floor and falling unconscious.
Liu Changfeng raised a hand slightly, and a gentle green light drifted from his fingertips, lightly settling onto Lu Ming.
The green light seeped into Lu Ming's limbs and bones like spring rain, healing the injuries across his body at a visible rate. In the blink of an eye, he was fully recovered and slowly awakened from his unconsciousness.
Lu Ming hurriedly rose and respectfully cupped his fists toward Dean Liu Changfeng in the sky. "Thank you, Dean, for saving me."
Liu Changfeng gave a slight nod without saying anything further.
Lu Ming did not linger. He quickly returned to the disciples' ranks, lowered his head, and silently stood at the back of the crowd, lingering fear still visible on his face.
"Mu Chen, up."
Without pausing, Liu Changfeng continued calling names.
A young disciple in the crowd stiffened, bitterness filling his still somewhat youthful face.
He took a deep breath and stepped onto the arena despite himself. The result needed no explanation—he was still sent flying by the Blood Puppet in a single strike.
"Zhou Yuan, up."
"Dear reader, get up."
"Li Changfeng, up."
"Chen Xuance, up."
One name after another came from Liu Changfeng's mouth. One disciple after another stepped onto the arena with apprehension and fear, only to be defeated in a single move by Qin Yan's Blood Puppet.
From beginning to end, not one of them managed to last even a single exchange before that blood-red figure.
The Puppet condensed from blood energy stood before Qin Yan like an insurmountable chasm, blocking every