naaapseattle Chapter 314: Insta-kill
Chapter 314: Insta-kill
Once the lots were drawn, the contestants entered their Virtual Pods and reappeared at the venue as projections.
"First match: number one versus number thirty-two," Flame Venerable’s voice rang out again. "Contestants, to the stage."
Two figures leaped from the waiting area, landing steadily on the arena stage.
The match officially began.
Xu Wuyi didn’t pay much attention to the first few matches.
To him, the skill levels on display were all over the place.
The strong ones settled their matches in a few moves, while the weak fought sloppily, their techniques riddled with openings.
He closed his eyes to meditate, adjusting his breathing and gradually pushing his condition to its peak.
The Hundred Refinements Melting Furnace slowly activated within him, his Qi and Blood surging like a great river.
In his sea of consciousness, the vortex where the True Intentions of "Mountain" and "Flame" intertwined spun silently, ready to erupt with terrifying power at any moment.
Time ticked by, second by second.
Match after match concluded. The victors remained in the waiting area, while the losers dejectedly departed.
"It’s your turn," Tana said suddenly to Xu Wuyi.
Xu Wuyi opened his eyes.
On the stage, the winner of the previous match had just departed.
"Match seven: number seven versus number twenty-six," the officiating military officer announced in a loud voice.
Xu Wuyi rose to his feet.
Many eyes in the arena turned toward him.
"Who’s that?"
"The Royal Family’s representative? He looks so young."
"A Star Martial University uniform... Is he outside help?"
Muffled discussions broke out across the spectator stands.
Xu Wuyi paid no mind to the stares. Carrying his long spear, he walked down the steps and onto the stage.
His pace was steady, neither fast nor slow, as if he were about to perform the most ordinary of tasks.
When he stepped onto the stage, his opponent was already there.
The stocky youth stared at Xu Wuyi, his eyes showing wariness and a hint of defiance.
"Shi Gang, of the Stone Tribe from the West Desert," he said, cupping his fist to introduce himself.
"Xu Wuyi, from Star Martial University." Xu Wuyi returned the salute and, at the same time, unwrapped the cloth covering his spear.
The jet-black Meteor Iron Long Spear was revealed, its tip glinting coldly in the light.
Shi Gang took a deep breath and slammed his fists together before his chest, producing a dull thud.
He cultivated the Stone Tribe’s secret Stacking Rock Fist Technique, a style that emphasized overwhelming finesse with mass and crushing opponents with raw power.
Although his Energy Level was only 33.7, his physical strength was nearly unrivaled among those of the same rank.
The referee glanced at them both, and after confirming they were ready, he swept his hand down. "Begin!"
The instant the word left his mouth, Shi Gang moved.
He stomped his left foot hard, and the alloy plates of the stage boomed with the impact.
His entire body shot forward like a cannonball, his right fist swinging around with a whoosh as it smashed toward Xu Wuyi’s face!
There were no frills to this punch—it was pure power and speed.
The force of the coming blow struck his face before the fist even arrived.
Someone in the audience let out a gasp.
Shi Gang’s explosive power was truly astonishing. The might of this punch nearly matched a full-force blow from a Level 34 Martial Artist.
And yet, Xu Wuyi remained where he was, not even shifting his feet.
He didn’t move until the fist was half a meter away.
With a gentle lift of the long spear in his right hand, he tapped its butt to the ground, the tip pointing diagonally upward.
It was such a simple movement.
Shi Gang’s expression changed abruptly.
In his perception, Xu Wuyi’s entire presence had suddenly transformed.
Moments ago, he was just a calm young Martial Artist; now, he seemed like a towering mountain—massive, stable, and immovable.
And at the peak of that mountain, a great sun was rising, radiating a scorching, heavy pressure.
The Mountain Peak Great Sun Realm spread out faintly.
Shi Gang’s Fist Momentum involuntarily faltered.
In that split second of hesitation...
Xu Wuyi’s spear moved.
It was neither a thrust nor a sweep, but a simple push forward.
The spear tip cut through the air. Its trajectory was perfectly straight and not particularly fast, but it struck the side of Shi Gang’s fist with unerring precision.
It was a critical node in the flow of his Fist Force.
CLANG!
A sound like the clash of metal on metal erupted.
Shi Gang felt an indescribable, immense force travel up from his fist. His entire right arm went numb instantly, and a piercing pain shot through his knuckles.
He grunted, his body stumbling backward uncontrollably.
Xu Wuyi didn’t give chase.
He retracted his spear, remaining in place as he watched Shi Gang.
The entire arena fell silent.
From start to finish, barely three seconds had passed.
Shi Gang steadied himself, his face pale as he stared at his right fist.
On the back of his hand, a faint red mark was rapidly swelling, and his entire arm was still trembling.
He gritted his teeth and looked up at Xu Wuyi.
His opponent remained perfectly calm, as if he had just brushed away a speck of dust.
’The gap is too vast.’
Shi Gang was no fool.
He knew that his opponent had held back with that last strike.
If the spear tip had been angled just a bit differently, or if there had been a fraction more force behind it, the entire right side of his body would have been obliterated.
"I concede," Shi Gang said, lowering his head, his voice hoarse.
The referee froze for a moment before snapping back to reality. "The winner is Xu Wuyi!"
Only then did a clamor of discussion erupt from the spectator stands.
"It’s over already?"
"One strike... He only used one strike?"
"Shi Gang’s Stacking Rock Fist Technique is fairly renowned among the younger generation in the West Desert, yet he couldn’t even withstand a single move?"
Countless gazes—filled with curiosity, surprise, and scrutiny—fixed upon Xu Wuyi.
Xu Wuyi paid the stares no mind.
He nodded at Shi Gang, then turned and walked off the stage.
When he returned to his seat, Tana excitedly slapped him on the shoulder. "Amazing! Now everyone will remember you!"
Xu Wuyi said nothing, re-wrapping his spear before closing his eyes to regulate his breathing.
’In that last strike, I only used thirty percent of my strength. I didn’t even truly unleash my True Intention, let alone the Undying Flame.’
’Just a warm-up.’
Xu Wuyi paid no more attention to the subsequent matches.
His focus had already shifted to his potential opponent in the second round.
According to the tournament bracket, if he advanced, his next opponent would be the winner of the match between Bai Li and another Martial Artist from the West Desert.
Bai Li’s match was the twelfth one.
Xu Wuyi opened his eyes and looked toward the stage.
Bai Li was already standing there.
Her opponent was a local Swordsman from the West Desert with a Life Energy Level of 34.1 and a vicious Saber Technique.
But in front of Bai Li, he seemed clumsy and powerless.
The match began.
The Swordsman seized the initiative, his long saber whistling sharply as it chopped downward.
Bai Li didn’t draw her sword.
She simply sidestepped lightly, shifted her footing, and swept past the edge of the blade like an Illusion.
The Swordsman’s strike hit nothing. His expression changed slightly as he immediately switched to a horizontal slash.
But Bai Li’s figure vanished again.
It wasn’t that she was too fast to be seen, but that she had truly vanished—as if she had melted into the air, only to reappear three meters behind the Swordsman an instant later.
Only then did she draw her sword.
The glint of her blade was cold and clear, like cascading moonlight.
The Swordsman reacted with incredible speed, spinning to parry.
CLANG!
The blades met, sending sparks flying.
The Swordsman felt the force from her sword was light and ethereal, like striking cotton, offering no resistance.
Alarmed, he was about to pull his saber back and retreat, but Bai Li’s sword slid down his blade, its tip striking for his wrist.
A strange arc, a treacherous angle.
The Swordsman hastily dropped his saber and shot backward.
But it was too late.