Ghostfire Eighteen Kicks

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After resting for a quarter of an hour, the second round began.

Just like the first round, the second round paired off contestants with adjacent rankings: Ye Tang versus Ye He, Ye Jun versus Ye Chen, Ye Hai versus Ye Ming, and Ye Xuan versus Ye Jin. As for Ye Lin, contestant number seventeen, who had been left without an opponent, he could freely choose from the remaining contestants. If he won, he would take the other party's position; if he lost, he would be eliminated.

On the field.

Unexpectedly, Ye He did not forfeit. Facing Ye Tang, dressed all in white, he said, "I won't let you defeat me easily."

Ye Tang sneered. "Good. Otherwise, it would be far too boring."

Seeing that the two were ready, the Third Elder shouted, "The match begins."

Whoosh!

Almost at the same instant the Third Elder spoke, Ye He had already darted out. His lowered body did not move in a straight line, but in erratic arcs, like a vicious venomous snake stalking its prey, ready to unleash a fatal strike at any moment.

"Human-grade High-tier movement technique: Nine-Turn Snake Steps!" Someone with a keen eye recognized the Martial Arts Ye He had used.

"I heard that to practice Nine-Turn Snake Steps, one must train the body to be extremely flexible. Only the practitioner knows the pain involved. Ye He is no simple man!"

"Indeed. Ye He is quite a figure among the Southern Luo Sect's Outer Sect Disciples. Even ordinary peak Qi Cultivation Realm Tenth Layer martial artists would not dare claim they could defeat him for certain. Ye Tang only entered the True Condensation Realm two months ago, and his True Qi is still unstable. He'll probably need more than ten moves to defeat him—perhaps even more."

Contrary to everyone else's opinion, Ye Chen did not think highly of Ye He. Though the Flowing Cloud Sect did not possess the Nine-Turn Snake Steps manual, that did not stop him from judging it. Ye He's Nine-Turn Snake Steps seemed traceless and his attacks swift, but every turn carried a fleeting pause. That was because his mastery was not yet complete. If Ye Tang had any discernment at all, he would never let such a flaw pass.

Sure enough.

Just as Ye He turned again to launch an attack, Ye Tang moved. His white figure flashed, his palm straightened like a blade, and he slashed three times in rapid succession.

The first and second strikes knocked aside Ye He's left and right arms respectively. The third landed heavily on his chest with a crisp crack. In an instant, Ye He was blasted flying and crashed onto the ground over ten meters away, unable to get back up for some time.

"Ye Tang is truly ruthless." Ye Chen had clearly heard the sound of ribs breaking and could not help frowning.

In the VIP seat, Ye Batian chuckled. "A martial artist ought to have such ruthlessness. Otherwise, he cannot accomplish great things. Well done."

Ye Tianhao retorted, "They are family. Why strike so heavily?"

"Family members are not necessarily on the same side. Besides, if he loses to family, he need only lie in bed for one or two months. If he loses to an outsider, he may never wake up again. If he does not learn the cruelty of the outside world now, how can he survive better in the future?" Ye Batian did not take Ye Tianhao's words to heart. Having become an Inner Sect Elder of the Purple Sun Sect, he naturally had his own set of principles.

Amid the crowd's uproar, the second match began immediately after.

Ye Jun lived up to his name, for he was remarkably handsome. His handsomeness differed from Ye Tang's dashing elegance and Ye Chen's refined grace. It was an exquisiteness that was exactly right; judging from his features alone, it was difficult to find any flaw.

Slowly walking to stand before Ye Chen, Ye Jun said flatly, "You are doomed to lose."

"Is that so?" Ye Chen smiled freely.

At those words, Ye Jun's brows twitched. The other's relaxed tone made him somewhat uneasy, but he quickly cast the thought away. He had entered the Purple Sun Sect a year before Ye Feng and was now sixteen years old, his cultivation having reached the middle stage of the Qi Cultivation Realm Tenth Layer. Usually keeping a low profile, who knew that he had already surpassed Ye Feng? Others still believed he lingered at the Qi Cultivation Realm Ninth Layer.

"Sister Ye Xuan, who do you think will win?" Among the female contestants, Ye Xiaomei, who looked only thirteen or fourteen, asked.

Ye Xuan answered calmly, "Ye Jun's odds of victory should be higher."

Ye Xiaomei did not believe her. "But earlier, Ye Chen defeated Ye Feng with a single punch. Ye Jun probably can't do that, can he?"

Ye Jin, who would face Ye Xuan in the fourth match, shook his head. "Little girl, Ye Xuan is the most gifted genius in the history of our Ye Family to enter the True Condensation Realm. There must be reason in what she says."

Ye Xiaomei curled her lips. Did a genius have to be right whenever they spoke?

"Xiaomei is right. In terms of cultivation, Ye Chen is undoubtedly a little stronger. But when two sides fight, it is not merely a contest of cultivation. Ye Chen defeated Ye Feng with one punch earlier only because his Internal Energy was formidable. This time, Ye Jun certainly will not do as Ye Chen wishes and choose a head-on clash. Given his experience and mastery of Martial Arts, he has a great chance of defeating Ye Chen," Ye Xuan explained in an orderly manner.

While the three discussed it, the two men on the field had already exchanged blows.

"Ha!"

Ye Jun exhaled and exerted force. His eyes instantly brightened, and scorching currents rose from his clenched fists, like two red-hot branding irons.

With a movement of his feet, Ye Jun crossed seven or eight meters and launched a frenzied assault on Ye Chen.

"Blazing Fire Fist? No, it should be the Purple Sun Sect's Quenching Fire Fist, a cut above Blazing Fire Fist."

Facing the sky-filling fist shadows rushing at him, Ye Chen received them all without exception. Both hands traced half-circles as he pushed out Vajra Immeasurable.

Boom!

A violent explosion of air rang out, and dust billowed across the ground.

At the same time, a figure leaped from the dust—it was Ye Jun. He spread his arms like a great roc spreading its wings, while his long, powerful legs kicked out in a rapid chain.

"Ghostfire Eighteen Kicks!"

Puff puff puff puff puff puff!

The fierce force scraped against the air, tinting it a faint ghostly blue, just like the eerie ghostfire in a graveyard at night. Every strike was deadly.

Ye Batian gave a surprised cry, then smugly said to Ye Tianhao, "Second Brother, your son will lose this time. Ghostfire Eighteen Kicks is a leg technique derived from the Earth-Grade Low-Tier Martial Skill, Great Sun Ghost King Leg. It is more than twice as powerful as ordinary Human-grade Top-tier Martial Skills. Among the Purple Sun Sect's Outer Sect Disciples, fewer than one in a hundred can master it properly; even Inner Sect Disciples need to spend considerable time studying it. I never expected Ye Jun to have learned it."

"The victor has yet to be decided. Anything said now is meaningless." Though Ye Tianhao spoke thus, a faint gravity showed in his eyes.

Shen Yuqing, seated in another VIP seat, also wore a grave expression. She had long heard of Ghostfire Eighteen Kicks. Once, an Inner Sect Disciple of the Southern Luo Sect had gone out to complete a mission and, for some unknown reason, clashed with an Inner Sect Disciple of the Purple Sun Sect. During their battle, the Southern Luo Sect disciple had been kicked by the other's Ghostfire Eighteen Kicks until every bone in his body shattered. He had not even possessed the strength to fight back and had become crippled ever since.

"Chen'er, don't force yourself," Shen Yuqing murmured.

Ye Chen did not know of his parents' worries. To him, Ghostfire Eighteen Kicks was certainly formidable, but for it to injure him was nothing but a dream. He simply did not want to reveal all his strength for now; he even needed to hold back more than half of it. After all, it was his trump card. The fewer people who knew, the better.

I'll first try breaking down the moves! Ye Chen retreated in a rhythmic pattern, his fists sometimes blocking, sometimes meeting force with force, sometimes deflecting and counterattacking, dispersing each ghostfire kick shadow as it came.