Countless burning gazes were fixed on the arena stage, awaiting the final duel that would decide the champion.
"Shi Meng."
Elder Chen Xuan's gaze was steady. He swept his eyes over the five disciples before him, and they finally rested on Shi Meng. He nodded slightly.
Shi Meng understood. He took a deep breath and let out a low roar. His stout body exploded with power, and like a wild bull, he stomped heavily onto the arena stage with a dull THUD.
He clenched his fists, his gaze burning as he stared toward the Tingyu Building contingent, his fighting spirit soaring.
Over on the Tingyu Building's side, the middle-aged Elder Mo Hai wore a faint, almost imperceptible smile as he gave a nonchalant order.
"Yin Ye, you're up."
The disciple named Yin Ye stepped forward in response.
He was small and thin with a plain face—the type you would easily lose in a crowd. But his steps were light, his feet landing without a sound as he slid onto the arena stage like a silent shadow.
