One Strike Shatters the Defense!

Li Long did not wait for Zhou Ke to catch his breath.

He stepped forward, dragging the Iron Rod across the ground with a piercing scrape as he approached his opponent. His pace was neither fast nor slow, but he did not pause.

Zhou Ke pushed himself up against the stone railing. A patch of flesh had been scraped from his left shoulder, and the blood seeping out had soaked half his sleeve.

He looked up and saw Li Long closing in. Gritting his teeth, he raised his right hand, and the silver spear flew back into his grasp from afar.

His second soul ring rose.

Second Soul Skill: Iron Wall Spear Formation.

This was his life-saving skill.

Flooded with soul power, the spear instantly split into three phantom spears. They crisscrossed around him, forming an impenetrable defensive barrier.

The three spear phantoms were independent yet linked together. If any one of them was broken, the other two would immediately shift to fill the gap.

This soul skill had helped him block countless fatal attacks. Among opponents of the same rank, it had almost never been broken head-on.

"Come on." Zhou Ke settled into a bow stance, his spear formation raised like a shield. His voice was hoarse, yet filled with stubborn resolve.

Li Long stopped three steps away.

He looked at the three intersecting spear phantoms before him, judged them for an instant, and made his decision.

He did not circle around, stall for time, or search for an opening.

He raised the Iron Rod. Golden light covered it once more, and his soul ring lit up for the second time.

This time, he did not stop. He directly accelerated and charged forward.

As he took the second step, he lowered his upper body slightly and pulled the Iron Rod back with both arms to build momentum. When he took the third step, all his strength twisted into a single force, flowing from his waist through his shoulders, back, arms, and wrists before finally converging at the very tip of the Iron Rod.

All his power was concentrated into that single inch at the rod's tip.

Boom!

The Iron Rod smashed into the center of the spear formation. The instant gold collided with silver, spiderweb cracks exploded across the flagstone ground beneath their feet, and shattered stone flew everywhere.

All three spear phantoms let out piercing hums at the same time, then shattered.

The first broke. The second broke. The third broke.

The silver light burst into countless glittering fragments that scattered through the air. The Iron Spine Spear itself was jolted into an almost absurd curve, flying from Zhou Ke's hand and embedding itself diagonally into the flagstones thirty yards away, its shaft still humming and trembling.

Zhou Ke stood rooted to the spot with empty hands. The webbing of both palms had split open, and blood dripped from his fingertips.

He lowered his head to look at his hands, then looked up at Li Long across from him. His lips moved a few times before he finally forced out one word from his throat.

"...I concede."

Then his knees gave out. He dropped to one knee, bracing himself against the flagstones with both hands, unable to hold himself up any longer.

The arena was so quiet that the wind brushing past the stone railings could be heard.

Then the stands erupted in the loudest roar since the tournament began.

Some people stood to applaud, some shouted their praise, and others yelled at the people beside them, "Is he really ten years old?"

Li Long stood where he was. The golden light on the Iron Rod had completely faded, and his soul ring vanished.

He let out a breath. His chest rose and fell more noticeably than usual, but his face remained expressionless.

He glanced at Zhou Ke kneeling across from him, nodded, then tucked the Iron Rod behind his waist and turned toward the competitors' passage.

As he passed the edge of the arena, he heard people in the stands calling his name.

He did not stop, merely tilting his head slightly in acknowledgment before disappearing into the entrance of the passage.

On the high platform, Qian Shengyuan sat in his chair, his fingers resting on the armrest as they tapped lightly in a steady rhythm.

The attendant beside him offered a fresh cup of tea. He accepted it and set it by his hand without drinking, his gaze still fixed on the empty martial arena.

After a long while, he finally spoke.

"One ring shattering a two-ring defense... truly interesting."

After entering the competitors' passage, Li Long did not slow down. He walked all the way to a bench in the corner of the rest area before stopping.

He removed the Iron Rod from his waist, set it across his knees, and sat down.

The webbing of his right hand was slightly red, and his knuckles ached faintly.

When his final strike shattered the Iron Wall Spear Formation, nearly all the recoil had been absorbed by the bones in his palm.

The physical strength of a three-ring Soul Elder had allowed his bones and muscles to withstand the impact, but the aftershock of that force had still left a brief tremor within his body.

He closed his eyes and examined himself internally. His meridians were unharmed, and his soul power still flowed smoothly. He had simply consumed quite a bit of it.

Zhou Ke's wall really was hard.

That was his assessment. If he had not concentrated all his strength into a single point at the tip of the rod, he likely would have only cracked it rather than shattered it.

That style of fighting required extremely precise force control. The results of half a year of repeatedly honing himself against iron stakes had finally proven useful today.

Several one-ring challengers who had yet to compete were secretly watching him from around the rest area.

When their gazes fell upon him, the feelings in their eyes were completely different from those in the morning.

That morning, there had been curiosity mixed with vigilance. Now, there was an additional hint of fear.

They had witnessed that spear formation being smashed apart by a single strike. Seeing it in person was even more shocking than the rumors.

Faint marks left by three soul rings still lingered on the flagstone ground.

A slightly older challenger took the initiative to approach and sat down beside Li Long. He asked, "That strike just now... how long did you train in Notting City?"

Li Long turned his head and recognized him as the tall youth who had been the first to agree to challenge someone above his rank during the elimination round.

After thinking for a moment, he answered, "Five hundred swings every day for half a year."

The other youth fell silent for a moment, then asked, "You still trained that hard even with a first soul skill?"

"Yes. No matter how strong the first soul skill is, it's only an outburst. If your fundamentals aren't good enough, you won't even be able to seize the chance to unleash that outburst," Li Long said.

The tall youth considered those words, nodded, and did not ask any more questions.

He stood and took a step back, then paused and turned around. "My name is Gao Cheng, from the Heaven Dou Northern Border Branch Hall. I hope you keep winning."

"Mm." Li Long responded without saying anything more.

The matches in the martial arena continued.

The remaining matchups in the two-ring group proceeded one after another. More challengers were eliminated, while two one-ring contestants managed to defeat their opponents through certain advantages in compatibility, barely remaining among the victors.

But whether they won or lost, whenever anyone spoke about the previous match, they mentioned the same name.

Several yellow-robed deacons gathered at the edge of the arena, speaking in low voices.

They had handled judging and record-keeping for many years, and they had their own standards for assessing the strength of this batch of contestants.

One of them said, "There aren't many among the two-ring contestants who can smash that level of defensive soul skill apart with one strike."

The others did not refute him. They merely exchanged glances.

Li Long sat in the corner of the rest area with his eyes closed, resting. The noise outside had nothing to do with him.

After the time it took to burn one incense stick, he opened his eyes and moved his wrist. Most of the redness in the webbing of his hand had faded.

He gripped the Iron Rod again, tested its feel, then satisfactorily tucked it back behind his waist.

His next match had not yet been arranged, but it would come sooner or later. And the farther he advanced, the stronger his opponents would become.

He sat cross-legged, closed his eyes again, and began restoring his soul power.

Those gazes around him remained, but he did not care, nor did he intend to.

It did not matter what these people thought of him. What he had to do had remained the same from beginning to end: keep fighting, until the people above noticed him.

Deep in the stands, several people dressed in ordinary clothes of different colors also withdrew their gazes and quietly exchanged opinions.

These people came from different backgrounds. Some were observers transferred from high-ranking branch halls, while others were specially sent to scout promising talents for major clans.

In the booklets in their hands, someone had already written down two words: Li Long.

A small note was added beside it: Notting City, one ring, level twenty, shattered a two-ring defense head-on.

The tea on the high platform had already been replaced three times.

Qian Shengyuan had not lifted a single cup to drink. He had merely written a few words on the blank sheet before him and pushed it aside.

The attendant beside him glanced at it. The words read:

"Let him keep fighting. I want to see where his limit lies."