The next day.
Li Xiang stood on the Arena, his hands hanging naturally at his sides.
Standing there, he looked like a stubborn stone that had grown from the black Arena itself. Not a trace of blood qi spilled from him, nor did he show the slightest edge.
After a day and a night of rest, his vitality, energy, and spirit had climbed to an unprecedented peak.
It was more than physical recovery. He had undergone a transformation from the inside out.
In his mind, one bloody battle after another replayed silently like a revolving lantern.
The Taotie cub was too weak to mention, but Li Xiang had learned much from fighting Qing Liuer, the young princess of the Mighty Bull Demon Race, and Yan Kai, the prodigy of the Flame Demonfolk Race—figures who reigned supreme among their peers.
After all, bloody battles tempered a person best. His Xingyi Five Elements Martial Force had been honed to a smooth, perfect harmony, while the icy chill of Nine Nether Force had lent his Dragon Force the last thread of resilience it lacked.
"I'm close to the Second Realm."
Li Xiang murmured to himself, a faint, dark glimmer passing through the depths of his eyes.
If he won two more matches, crossed that threshold, and took first place in the First Realm division of the Blessed Land Contest, he would complete the advancement ritual for [Boxer's Conviction]. Lu Changsheng would also teach him the insights into dragon transformation he had promised.
Beyond that, the generous rewards promised by the Tianjin Warlord would all be his.
The winner took all.
That was the iron law of an age of great strife.
Tap, tap, tap—!
A series of rather unhurried footsteps came from the other end of the Arena, interrupting Li Xiang's thoughts.
Zhang