Wind roared across the arena as the final match began.
Chen Wuyou did not rush.
He didn't need to.
He stood tall and calm, hands lowered at his sides, feet rooted like an unshakable mountain.His aura was restrained but vast, like a deep lake hiding its true depth.
Fifth Layer.A genuine outer-sect elite.
Lian Hong could feel it.
The pressure was different from Hong Feng, different from Li Fengxia—this was a cultivator who had polished his foundation for years within the sect.
Chen Wuyou finally spoke, voice steady.
"Three moves."
He raised his hand slowly, palm open.
"If you can withstand three of my strikes, I will acknowledge you."
The crowd exploded.
"Three moves?!""He's underestimating Lian Hong!""No—he's being generous. Chen Wuyou rarely gives anyone a chance.""A servant disciple fighting Rank 10… How is this even fair?"
Zhou Shan squatted on the ground, clutching his head.
"Why… why did my friend become a monster… and now he faces a bigger monster…"
But Lian Hong's expression didn't change.
He stepped forward.
"One strike is enough."
A ripple of shock passed through the spectators.
Even Chen Wuyou's eyelid twitched.
"…Confident."
Lian Hong answered calmly.
"No. Certain."
The First Clash
Chen Wuyou moved.
Not fast.Not explosive.
But every step he took was precise, controlled, refined to the extreme.
The arena trembled beneath him.
〈Flowing Mountain Palm〉—a renowned Earth-Rank mortal technique, requiring years to master.
He raised his hand.
The energy around his palm condensed, forming a translucent ripple of qi.The pressure was immense, suffocating.
Many servant disciples instinctively stepped back, trembling.
Even outer disciples felt their breathing tighten.
"Is that the Fifth Layer…?""That palm can shatter stone!""Lian Hong can't stop that—!"
Chen Wuyou's palm descended.
Smooth.Effortless.Like a falling mountain.
Lian Hong inhaled.
〈Crimson Meridian Breathing〉—activation.
His blood heated.His muscles tightened.His qi surged like a crimson tide.
He stepped into the attack—defying logic, defying every instinct telling him to evade.
Chen Wuyou's pupils narrowed.
"So you intend to clash head-on?"
"Yes."
Their palms met.
BOOOOOOM!!
A shockwave tore through the arena, sending dust flying.
Stone cracked beneath their feet.
Outer disciples shielded their eyes.
Servant disciples were blown backward by the wind pressure.
The dust settled—
Chen Wuyou stood firmly, unmoved.
Lian Hong slid back three steps, boot soles scraping across the stone floor.
The crowd gasped.
"He blocked it!""He actually blocked a flow-mountain strike!""That palm can break ribs!"
Chen Wuyou exhaled softly.
"You… are stronger than I expected."
But his voice held no arrogance—only genuine recognition.
Lian Hong flexed his right hand.
His fingers tingled from the shock.
His mind raced.
So this is the refinement of an inner-court–trained cultivator…Stable qi circulation.Perfect weight transfer.Minimal loss of force.
He smiled slightly.
Good.I need this pressure.
The Second Strike
Chen Wuyou's stance shifted.
His qi rose.
Not wildly—smoothly, like water flowing uphill.
"Second strike. Prepare yourself."
Lian Hong's eyes sharpened.
The moment Chen Wuyou moved—
Lian Hong's system chimed.
[Ding!Opponent's technique detected:Flowing Mountain Palm – Second Form]
[Suggestion: Counter with Shadowstep Phantom Movement]
Lian Hong moved before thinking.
Shadowstep activated—
and the world slowed.
He slipped sideways, weight shifting like a shadow bending with the wind.
Chen Wuyou's palm cut through where Lian Hong had been—missing by a hair.
The crowd roared.
"He dodged it!""That was too fast to see!""How did he read that attack?!"
But Chen Wuyou wasn't surprised.
His expression remained calm.
"You can sense the flow of force… interesting."
He pivoted sharply.
The palm reversed mid-air—slamming toward Lian Hong's ribs.
Lian Hong braced himself—
〈Ironbone Frame – Level 1〉—reinforced his entire skeleton.
Chen Wuyou's palm struck—
CRACK!!
Lian Hong flew backward, skidding across the arena floor.
Blood dripped from his lips.His ribs screamed.
Zhou Shan cried out:
"No!!! Lian Hong!!!"
The crowd was silent.
Chen Wuyou lowered his hand.
"That was my second strike."
Lian Hong pushed himself up.
Slowly.Painfully.
Then—
He stood straight.
His eyes burned with intensity.
Chen Wuyou's brows lifted ever so slightly.
"Still standing…?"
Lian Hong cracked his neck.
"I told you."
He wiped the blood from his mouth.
"One strike is enough."
The arena froze.
Then trembled.
Because Lian Hong's aura surged—
stronger than before.
〈Crimson Meridian Breathing〉—breakthrough progress: 89% → 95%.
His blood boiled.His muscles tightened.His qi condensed like a tightening vortex.
Chen Wuyou whispered:
"…He grows during battle."
The Final Strike
Chen Wuyou raised his hand once more.
"This is the third strike.If you withstand it—I will acknowledge you fully."
Lian Hong stepped forward.
"You won't finish it."
He lowered his stance.
Qi surged through him.
His heartbeat thundered.
The world sharpened—
every soundevery movementevery breathbecame painfully clear.
Chen Wuyou's palm descended.
Lian Hong's fist rose.
Their strikes collided.
BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOM!!!!
A deafening explosion of qi and force shook the entire arena.
The stone ground cracked.Dust erupted like a storm.The shockwave forced disciples off their feet.
For a moment—the world was swallowed by chaos.
When the dust cleared—
Chen Wuyou stoodwith his arm hanging slightly.
And Lian Hong stood too—swayingbleedingbut still on his feet.
The crowd went silent.
Chen Wuyou looked at Lian Hong.
His lips curved.
"You win."