Two Punches

The Federation's camp fell silent for a moment.

Qin Wangdong clenched his fists, Zhou Cheng's brow furrowed deeply, and unwillingness showed on the soldiers' faces.

Shen Jin's expression remained calm.

He watched the figure standing straight at the center of the arena. After a few seconds of silence, he spoke.

"What a fighter Xing Beichuan is."

Yang Shuyan nodded without speaking.

Xu Wuyi watched as the medics carried Han Ling from the arena.

Han Ling's right fist was a bloody mess, and blood still seeped from the wound in his left shoulder. But he remained conscious. As they carried him away, his gaze met Xu Wuyi's.

His lips moved without a sound, but Xu Wuyi read them.

"It's up to you now."

Xu Wuyi nodded without speaking.

On the other side, Xing Beichuan also left the arena.

He refused the medics' help and made his way back to the Dawn Empire's camp step by step. He walked slowly, but every step was steady.

He stopped before Xiao Hanyuan and bowed slightly.

"Commander, I completed the mission."

"Get some rest and recover," Xiao Hanyuan said, his voice hoarse but gentle.

Xing Beichuan nodded and took a seat in the rear. Medics immediately gathered around him and began treating the wound on his chest.

But he paid them no attention. His gaze rested on the arena, on the crystal floor he and Han Ling had left pitted and scarred.

Xiao Chuyun rose from her seat.

She walked over to Xing Beichuan, lowered her head, and spoke softly enough that only he could hear. "Uncle Xing, thank you for your effort."

Xing Beichuan shook his head. "It was nothing. That Han Ling is strong. His lightning rule is the purest I've ever seen. If my Killing Intent hadn't happened to counter his speed,