The martial arts arena's ring.
"Haah—!"
Xie Yun roared, charging forward like a sharp sword drawn from its sheath. Powerful inner energy surged through his body, his eyes bloodshot as his fists shot out like lightning. Thump! Thump! Thump! More than a dozen punches landed on the face, shoulder, and arm of the red-faced man fighting him, each strike touching and withdrawing at once. His final punch slammed into the man's chest.
The green-clad man's face had been battered out of shape. The last blow sent him flying off the ring with a thud, and he crashed heavily onto the muddy ground outside. Even if he survived, he would be gravely injured.
In the blink of an eye, the winner was decided.
"Tournament of successive challengers, challenger number forty-eight, the Red-Faced Blade, Mao Zhifeng, defeated!"
The several thousand spectators below the ring recoiled in shock, staring at one another. The entire martial arts arena fell silent. He was mad—this young master from the Medicine King Gang's Herb Gathering Hall was fighting like a man possessed.
It had all started that morning.
That morning, Ma Yu, one of the Treasure Gang's Ten Great Young Masters, had basked in the limelight as he defeated thirty-nine young masters in a row and held the ring through three rounds of successive challenges. He caused quite a stir, and many martial artists were eagerly anticipating an even stronger showing from him.
But just as Ma Yu was about to break through the fourth round, he made a fatal mistake. He should never have publicly provoked Xie Yun, the chief enforcement disciple of the Medicine King Gang's Herb Gathering Hall, hailed as the greatest master of the younger generation.
Everyone knew that the Herb Gathering Hall's disciples were responsible for maintaining order in the martial arts