Three People Still Weren't Enough Pressure? Yang Wudi: Must This Old Man Take the Field Himself?

The instant Tailong made his move, Bai Chenxiang and Niu Fei moved as well.

Bai Chenxiang was the fastest. With a light flap of the wings on her back, she swept in from the side, trailing afterimages behind her.

However, she did not attack Yang Jian directly. Instead, she circled him at high speed, stirring up gusts of air.

After all, the Speed Clan's strength did not lie in offense, so she chose to interfere with him instead.

Niu Fei advanced step by step, each footfall making the platform tremble.

He had the same idea as Bai Chenxiang: trap his opponent.

After all, the Defense Clan did not possess the Strength Clan's power or the Speed Clan's speed. He could only use his sturdy body as a cage to confine Yang Jian within it.

Three attacks came at him simultaneously from three directions!

The pressure instantly doubled!

The four clan leaders beneath the platform all held their breaths.

Bai Chenxiang's speed, Niu Fei's defense, Tailong's strength.

Three utterly different methods of attack, three utterly different kinds of pressure.

Could Yang Jian hold on?

On the platform, Yang Jian still had his eyes closed, yet he could clearly sense the auras approaching from all around him.

Swift as the wind, steady as a mountain, violent as thunder.

Three auras, three forces, converging upon him from three directions.

By all appearances, there was nowhere to evade.

Yet Yang Jian showed no sign of panic. If anything, he became even more composed.

At that moment, he was like a dead leaf falling from a tree, following the current beneath a howling gale.

When the wind came from the left, he drifted right. When it came from the right, he drifted left. When it blew head-on, he moved backward.

Amid an onslaught like a hurricane, Yang Jian was like the sole calm eye of the storm, standing firm and unmoved.

The three of them attacked with increasing intensity, their coordination becoming more and more seamless.

Bai Chenxiang pushed her speed to the limit, transforming into countless afterimages.

Niu Fei fully deployed his defenses, sealing off every route Yang Jian might use to evade.

Tailong's fists fell like raindrops, every blow carrying violent power.

The pressure grew heavier and heavier.

Yet rather than relaxing, Yang Jian's brow furrowed ever tighter.

Not enough. Still not enough. The pressure brought by the three of them was still just short of what he needed.

Below the platform, Yang Wudi's brows also drew tighter and tighter.

Tailong and the other two were already working together flawlessly, but the pressure they brought Yang Jian was still insufficient.

He could sense that Yang Jian was currently in a profound state.

That state was as thin as a cicada's wing. With only the slightest touch, it could be completely shattered, allowing him to step into an entirely new realm.

Yet that final trace of force had stubbornly failed to arrive.

Bai Chenxiang and the others' attacks were like scratching an itch through a boot, incapable of providing enough pressure at all.

If this continued, once too much time passed, his state of enlightenment would dissipate on its own. By then, all their efforts would have been wasted.

Yang Wudi clenched his fists and lifted a foot, intending to take the field himself, but at that moment, a hand reached out from beside him and stopped him.

"You can't go."

Yang Wudi frowned and looked toward Niu Gao beside him.

"Old Rhino, you..."

"With your strength, if you take the field, the pressure will be too great. Yang Jian will likely fail his enlightenment."

Niu Gao's voice was low, but his point struck home.

Yang Wudi fell silent.

Of course he knew that with the strength of an eighty-second-level Soul Douluo, even if he deliberately suppressed his Soul Power, the burden would still be unbearable for Yang Jian.

That kind of pressure would not be a push forward. It would be crushing force.

Enlightenment required pressure, but it could not be destructive pressure.

But...

Yang Wudi looked toward the platform, at the wavering figure amid the three attackers' siege, his heart filled with anxiety.

The pressure Bai Chenxiang and the other two brought was not enough, and Yang Jian could not break through.

Yet they could not send anyone else up there.

The Great Dao was fifty; heaven gave rise to forty-nine, leaving one to escape.

Yang Jian's current state was precisely like that.

Bai Chenxiang and the other two's encirclement appeared watertight, but in truth, they had always left him a path to life. That path was his chance to break through.

If they sent someone else up and sealed off that path, Yang Jian's enlightenment would certainly end in failure.

But if they did not send someone up, the pressure would remain insufficient, and his enlightenment would likewise fail.

Neither advancing nor retreating was an option. There was almost no solution.

Perhaps concern had clouded his judgment. Yang Wudi had lived for over sixty years and weathered countless storms.

Yet as he watched his grandson on the platform, he could not think of a solution that would satisfy both sides.

At that moment, a booming voice suddenly rang out.

"Where's Tainuo?"

Tai Tan stood amid the crowd, his gaze sweeping repeatedly over the Strength Clan.

"Where the hell did Tainuo go?"

Everyone froze, then turned their heads.

A member of the Strength Clan hurriedly replied.

"Reporting to Clan Leader, the young clan leader went drinking with Young Master Yang Lin of the Breaking Clan."

"Drinking?"

Tai Tan frowned.

"Hurry and find him... Forget it, I'll go myself!"

Before his words had even faded, he vanished from where he stood.

A moment later.

Tai Tan strode into the square, dragging a burly middle-aged man behind him.

The man had a hulking build and resembled Tai Tan by seventy or eighty percent. His square face was flushed red from drink, and he was still muttering under his breath.

"Dad, everyone's watching. Why are you dragging me around? At least save me some face..."

Noticing the gazes directed at him from all around, Tainuo scratched his head awkwardly.

The smell of alcohol on him could be detected from far away.

"It's urgent. I'll explain later."

Without another word, Tai Tan suddenly exerted force with his arm.

"Get on the platform and attack Yang Jian!"

"Huh?"

Before Tainuo could react, he was already hurled toward the Soul Fighting Platform!

He had no time to adjust his posture. He flailed wildly through the air before finally crashing heavily onto the Soul Fighting Platform spread-eagled.

Bang!!!

The entire Soul Fighting Platform trembled three times.

Yet Tainuo acted as though nothing had happened. With a swift kip-up, he sprang to his feet and brushed the dust from his clothes.

His steps were still somewhat unsteady, clearly showing that he had not fully sobered up.

"Use all your strength and attack Yang Jian!"

Tai Tan's voice exploded beside Tainuo's ears like thunder.

Tainuo paused, then followed his father's gaze.

On the platform, three figures were besieging a young man dressed in white.

The youth had his eyes closed, his body drifting unpredictably as he moved with ease through the storm-like barrage of attacks.

"Isn't this just some sparring between juniors?"

Tainuo scratched his head, looking thoroughly reluctant.

"You want me to make a move? Where am I, Tainuo the Power King, supposed to put my face?"

He muttered to himself, clearly unable to bring himself to bully a junior.

"Idiot!"

Tai Tan stamped his feet in fury.

"Can't you see that Yang Jian is in a state of enlightenment? Tailong and the other two aren't giving him enough pressure. Get up there and replace them!"

He took a deep breath and pointed at Yang Wudi in the distance.

"If Yang Jian's enlightenment fails, this old man won't stop an angry Old Goat for you!"

Before his words fell, a terrifying pressure suddenly descended!

Tainuo's entire body stiffened, and he instinctively turned his head.

Yang Wudi stood beneath the platform, the Soul-Breaker Spear somehow already in his hand.

The pitch-black spear gave off a cold, ghostly gleam. Yang Wudi himself was like a spear piercing the heavens, his aura as an eighty-second-level Soul Douluo erupting without restraint as it locked firmly onto Tainuo.