A Daoist ascends the nine heavens and bows to seize the white snake! (10,000 words; bonus chapters for 37,000 and 38,000 votes)

Liu Cang faced him as though confronting a formidable enemy.

He feigned ease and said:

"After reaching Elephant-Hurling, every Blood-Qi Seed you condense makes a world of difference. You have seven seeds and want to challenge my eight? That won't be easy."

Li Xiuwen smiled.

"Let our fists decide."

He moved. His Great Mastery-level Startling Swan Wandering Dragon sent his robes whipping in the wind. More than a dozen phantoms of Li Xiuwen appeared at once, unleashing different punches from different directions as they bore down on Liu Cang!

Whale-Killing Fist: Carefree Wanderer!

"White Ape Branch-Folding!"

Liu Cang's arms gleamed like black iron. It was his Great Mastery-level Dragon-Roaring Iron Cloth Shirt, and a faint dragon's roar echoed across the arena.

In the blink of an eye,

attacker and defender clashed dozens of times. Their punches fell like a raging storm, kicking dust high into the air.

Rings of white shockwaves spread outward like ripples from a boulder dropped into a lake.

A few breaths later,

the phantoms behind Li Xiuwen returned,

overlapping until they became one!

He lowered his hands, stood still, then walked off the platform.

Liu Cang remained where he was, disbelief filling his eyes.

Bang! Bang! Bang!

Bloody mist burst from his body in several places.

Pain pierced him to the bone.

He deflated like a punctured ball. With a muffled grunt, he spat a mouthful of thick blood and dropped to one knee. His whole body felt as though it had come apart, and he could not stand.

Ten fist prints of varying depth marked the muscles gleaming black as iron. Every one had sunk deep into his flesh.

Cracks spread from the prints.

The deepest exposed bone.

He knew Li Xiuwen had held back.

If all ten punches had struck the same spot, they