Ch. 21Battle Against the Body Tempering Ninth Stage
The instant he chose to advance, he gambled everything.
Zhao Kun's palm strike carried the power to shatter boulders, but his longsword remained at his waist, unused. Overconfidence. He had assumed his brute advantage in realm would be enough. Now, at the critical moment, a flicker of stagnation ran through his shoulder meridians.
Shen Yuan's tiger fist slammed into Zhao Kun's chest.
Crack!
Zhao Kun's Mountain-Splitting Palm grazed Shen Yuan's shoulder, ripping cloth and flesh, sending a spray of blood into the air. But the true impact was Shen Yuan's full-force blow, landing dead center on his opponent's sternum.
Zhao Kun's eyes bulged. A muffled groan escaped his throat as his body bent forward and shot backward across the arena, his feet carving deep furrows into the bluestone before he collapsed onto one knee.
Silence.
The entire Martial Arts Arena went utterly quiet.
Everyone stared at the sight of Zhao Kun—the undefeated Body Tempering Ninth Stage senior disciple—kneeling on the ground, coughing up blood.
Shen Yuan stood his ground, shoulder torn and bleeding, but his posture remained firm.
"I… was careless." Zhao Kun wiped the blood from his lips and slowly rose to his feet. But as he attempted to straighten, his left arm trembled. The injury to his chest had disrupted his blood and qi flow.
He's not getting back up, even the most skeptical observers realized. That blow hadn't just wounded him; the force had jarred his internal organs. One was down. The match was determined.
"Match over. Shen Yuan wins!" the elder announced, his voice carrying a note of shock and disbelief.
Pandemonium erupted.
"The menial disciple beat a ninth layer disciple?!"
"He's only at the sixth layer! How?!"
"Did Zhao Kun throw the match?"
Zhao Kun staggered in shame, but when he passed Shen Yuan, he whispered through gritted teeth: "This isn't over. You think you've won? You've only made your enemies more cautious."
Shen Yuan's eyes narrowed. "Then they'll have to line up."
Back in the arena's aftermath, as Shen Yuan was being tended to, Elder Zhang approached him with a heavy look.
"Your victory is remarkable, but it raises questions. The fragments you brought me last night—Liu Er's records—they hint at a larger conspiracy. One that reaches beyond the Outer Sect."
Shen Yuan looked up. "Which means?"
"It means you've caught the eye of forces within the Inner Sect, Shen Yuan. Your crippled spiritual roots were no accident. If you want the answers you seek, you'll have to survive what comes next. And winning a tournament won't be enough to protect you."
Elder Zhang paused, lowering his voice. "The sect's true trials are not fought on these grounds. And the one who ordered your spiritual roots destroyed three years ago will come for you again. Be ready."
Shen Yuan's bloodied hand clenched. The system's cold voice echoed in his mind: Martial arts points earned from this battle: +2,800. Recommend advancing to Body Tempering Seventh Layer before next confrontation.
He looked out over the cheering crowd, at Wang Dong's ecstatic face, at Zhao Kun's retreating silhouette, and at the distant inner peaks shrouded in mist.
The outer sect is just the beginning, he thought.
The real war had not yet been declared.