Challenge

When Feng Lengchan said this, Shi Mu and the other martial hall disciples all perked up and gathered around the arena.

Li Canghai and the other instructors also walked over, accompanied by two unfamiliar faces. One wore armor with a sword at his waist, a half-smile on his face—he was a military officer. The other had her hair tied high in a bun, expressionless, a handsome woman around thirty years old—she was a Houtian Martial Artist hired by the Four Great Martial Halls as a referee.

The officer was a captain in Feng City's garrison, while the woman was the leader of a major underground force in the city.

After a moment, Feng Lengchan stood on the arena and announced the competition rules.

"This competition is the same as before, decided by three rounds. In each round, any of the Four Great Martial Halls may send one person to issue a challenge. The challenged hall must do its utmost to respond. Defeated disciples may not enter the next round, while victorious disciples may continue to challenge other martial artists in subsequent rounds. After three rounds, ranking is determined by the number of disciples who retain their challenge rights."

As soon as Feng Lengchan finished speaking, he jumped off the arena, and the military officer unhurriedly stepped up. He simply clasped his fists and stood there without a word.

Below, Li Yunfeng listened to the competition rules and gave a slight wry smile.

"Brother Li, do you have any insights on these rules?" Shi Mu asked curiously.

"Brother Shi, you may not know this, but this three-round challenge system is most favorable to halls with a strong fighter. In the last competition, Wang Tianhao represented Jingang Martial Hall and nearly swept all three rounds single-handedly. No one from the other halls could stop him," Li Yunfeng replied with a bitter smile.

"I see. This challenge rule is indeed quite interesting." Shi Mu thought it over briefly, grasped the true intent behind the rules, and chuckled.

Just then, someone leaped onto the arena and announced loudly:

"This Humble One is Wu Ming of Tianlu Martial Hall. I wish to test the skills of the senior brothers from Flowing Wind Martial Hall."

"Yunfeng, you go up. This man lost to you last time; you should have no problem handling him." The red-faced man from Flowing Wind Martial Hall gave the order without turning his head.

"Master Min, rest assured. I'll take care of this kid." Li Yunfeng quickly stopped his conversation with Shi Mu and puffed out his chest in reply.

Then Li Yunfeng reached to his waist, and both hands suddenly wore a pair of green gauntlets. He gave them a slight shake, producing a crisp "clink"—the surface was studded with fingernail-sized bronze plates.

As Li Yunfeng jumped onto the arena, the young man already there let out a roar and brandished two gleaming daggers, charging straight at him.

In an instant, the two were locked in combat.

Li Yunfeng twisted his body, swinging his arms repeatedly, his fists often striking from bizarre angles.

The young man named Wu Ming wielded his daggers with delicate, unbroken movements, forming an impenetrable defense. Sparks flew whenever the daggers clashed with the fists, making for a fine spectacle.

"Not good. Wu Ming's Void-Piercing Dagger has already reached the level where not even water can seep through. I'm afraid Yunfeng will suffer a small loss," the red-faced man said after watching for a while, his expression shifting.

"Indeed. Wu Ming's Void-Piercing Dagger was barely at the beginner stage back then. To think he's reached minor mastery in just a year. Yunfeng's Python Bone Fist still lacks some refinement; winning will be very difficult," Li Canghai added in evaluation.

As if to confirm his words, a low roar suddenly rang out from the arena. The two figures locked in battle abruptly separated. Wu Ming staggered back several steps, one hand pressed to his chest, his face deathly pale.

Across from him, Li Yunfeng had two daggers buried halfway into his shoulder, blood streaming down. He clearly had no strength left to fight.

"First match, Tianlu Martial Hall wins!" the officer on the arena announced, stepping forward.

Li Yunfeng shot Wu Ming a fierce glare, then reluctantly jumped off the arena.

With two soft "pops," the red-faced man pressed his fingers to either side of Li Yunfeng's shoulder, then grabbed both shoulders and gave a sudden shake. The two daggers were forced out, and two streams of blood shot up half a foot before abruptly stopping.

"Apply medicine immediately and bandage the wound. It should be fine in a few days," the red-faced man said solemnly.

Though Li Yunfeng was sweating profusely from the pain, he could only nod repeatedly in thanks.

By now, the arena had a new challenger—a young man from Jingang Martial Hall wielding a staff, challenging Tianlu Martial Hall.

In response, Tianlu Martial Hall sent up a disciple with a blade. The two clashed with a series of clangs.

After a dozen exchanges, the challenger from Jingang Martial Hall was caught off guard and had his weapon knocked away. He had no choice but to concede.

Tianlu Martial Hall had won two matches in a row, and their momentum swelled. Feng Lengchan stroked his beard, his face beaming with smiles.

After the two matches, murmurs broke out among the crowd below.

"What's so interesting about this? I've long heard of the Thick Earth Physique's reputation. You there, step out and let me test you." Suddenly, someone leaped out from the crowd, holding a long spear upside down as he stood steadily on the arena, looking toward Feihong Martial Hall and speaking loudly.

The man's face was full of arrogance—it was Wang Tianhao.

"This brainless kid. Didn't I tell him not to rush up so early? And he has to challenge Feihong Martial Hall in the first match."

Over at Jingang Martial Hall, a gray-haired old man who hadn't managed to stop Wang Tianhao in time was nearly hopping mad with frustration.

The Feihong Martial Hall crowd stirred in agitation.

The dark, thin Tie Dong saw this, a fierce glint flashing in his eyes. He stepped forward toward the arena, but a long-bearded elder in front of him grabbed him and shook his head.

"Dong'er, there's no need for you to go up so early. Even if you win, you'll exhaust your strength and won't last to the end. Gu Zhong, you go up and test whether Wang Tianhao's Blazing Fire Spear Technique has improved."

Gu Zhong heard this and felt a surge of frustration, but he could only grit his teeth and agree. He drew his longsword and jumped onto the arena.

"I'm not looking for you. Send that kid up instead," Wang Tianhao said impatiently as soon as he saw Gu Zhong.

"Defeat me first, then worry about other matters." Though Gu Zhong was terrified of Wang Tianhao, these words stung his pride. With a low shout, he shook his longsword, and it transformed into a gale sweeping forward.

It was the Splashing Water Sword Technique he had trained for years.

"Courting trouble!" Wang Tianhao's face darkened. He held his spear horizontally in front of him, and the front half of the spear blurred and vanished.

With a "puff," a bowl-sized ball of flame suddenly appeared before Wang Tianhao, turning into a red light that shot forward.

With a thunderous "boom," Gu Zhong screamed. His whole body flew backward off the arena, reeking of scorched flesh.

The ball of fire spun once before revealing its true form—a gleaming spearhead, its entire surface wrapped in blazing flames, looking utterly eerie.

"Blazing Fire Flame!"

Seeing this, the long-bearded elder from Feihong Martial Hall cried out in shock. His figure moved, turning into a gray streak as he soared up, catching Gu Zhong in his arms.

When the long-bearded elder landed again, the Gu Zhong in his arms could finally be seen clearly—his body was now pitch-black, most of his clothes had been reduced to ashes and were gone, and his exposed skin was covered in white blisters of varying sizes. It was a miserable sight!

"Brother Xu, I never imagined that Nephew Wang had cultivated the Blazing Fire Spear Technique to such a level. You've kept us in the dark quite well." The long-bearded elder, holding Gu Zhong, his face ashen, turned his head and questioned the gray-white elder "Uncle Xu."

"Haha, don't wrong me. I only just found out that Nephew Tianhao has mastered the Blazing Fire Flame. By all logic, this should be impossible—it's a move that only Houtian Martial Artists can execute." Uncle Xu of the Jingang Martial Hall replied with both surprise and delight, without a second thought.

"Fine, fine. I'll remember this." The long-bearded elder stomped his foot in frustration, then had no choice but to hurriedly order someone to send Gu Zhong to a quiet room for treatment.

At this moment, the other martial hall instructors looked at Wang Tianhao as if he were a green-faced, fang-toothed monster—their expressions were all ones of utter disbelief.

"This can't be. How could anyone possibly cultivate the Blazing Fire Flame at the Martial Disciple stage? If he's like this, who can even block his attacks?" Li Canghai muttered to himself, his face dark.

"Haha, since Wang Tianhao has already cultivated the Fang Fire Flame, he's more than qualified to enter the Kaiyuan Martial Academy directly. I think there's no need to compete for first place in this trial anymore. Of course, if anyone isn't convinced, they can challenge him directly. If Tianhao loses, then our Jingang Martial Hall will voluntarily withdraw from the remaining matches and accept last place." Uncle Xu jumped onto the arena, nodded at the slightly stunned military officer, and declared with great vigor.

Feng Lengchan and the other two martial hall instructors looked at each other in dismay upon hearing this.

"Hmph, if Jingang Martial Hall wants first place, you'll have to get past me first." Tie Dong, though equally shocked by the flames on Wang Tianhao's spear, was now furious. With a flicker of movement, he was about to charge onto the arena.

"Dong'er, stop. Your Thick Earth Physique may be formidable, but it absolutely cannot withstand a single strike from the Blazing Fire Flame." The long-bearded elder quickly grabbed Tie Dong again, his face dark as he spoke.

Hearing this, Tie Dong's heart instantly turned cold.

Though he was usually unruly and defiant, he still had great respect for this elder, who had brought him from the island to Feng City.

At the same time, on the other side of the arena, Feng Jun clenched his fists so tightly that his nails dug deep into his palms, yet his face was deathly pale, and he dared not utter a single word.

"Shi Mu, come up. I see that among everyone here, you're probably the only one who can fight me." Wang Tianhao swept his gaze over the crowd below the arena, a hint of disdain flashing in his eyes. Suddenly, he gave a strange smile toward Shi Mu's position and spoke loudly.