In the archery field.
Hong Ming and Wang Heng faced each other from a distance, the tension mounting.
Threads of hostility spread like mist, tightening the hearts of Han Ming and the others.
Under everyone's silent, bated-breath stares, Wang Heng struck first.
He clenched both fists and lunged at Hong Ming like a leopard poised to pounce.
Before he even reached him, a biting chill surged forth, condensing the air ahead into pale ribbons.
The ribbons flashed like light and lightning, shooting into everyone's view. They were like boulders crashing into a still lake, churning up stormy waves in their hearts.
"Wang Heng has reached minor mastery in his boxing?!"
Shen Lin, watching Wang Heng's technique, couldn't help crying out.
The words burst from him. He hadn't expected Wang Heng to reach minor mastery without anyone noticing!
He'd been foolish enough to think he could put up some resistance. Now it seemed he really hadn't known the immensity of heaven and earth.
After his indescribable shock came a profound sense of relief.
He was incredibly glad it wasn't him who had stepped forward this time, but Hong Ming.
Otherwise, he wouldn't have had the slightest chance of winning!
"As expected of a Wang Family disciple!"
Seeing Wang Heng display minor mastery of the Frost Sky Fist, Han Ming's expression shifted.
The Frost Sky Fist was a superior boxing art. Though it had only three levels, it was by no means easy to master.
Ordinary martial artists would spend countless days and nights just reaching the entry level, let alone minor mastery.
Wang Heng had been in the Preparatory Camp for less than two months. Even with the advantage of having trained beforehand, his skill was remarkable.
The moment Wang Heng displayed his boxing art, the match was already over before