Chapter 37: A Fatal Strike Against Luo Wuren

Lu Changfeng found his designated arena. Already standing upon it was a figure.

"Lu Changfeng!"

The man spoke, his tone filled with surprise. Lu Changfeng looked up. The person waiting on the stage was Luo Wuren of the Heavenly Sword Peak.

"Should I call you lucky, or unlucky?"

"I never imagined I would encounter you in the very first round!"

"Ahahahahaha!"

Luo Wuren stuck out his tongue and licked his lips, his eyes swirling with murderous intent. Luo Yun and Luo Sheng had been crippled by Lu Changfeng some time ago, a grudge he had kept ever since. Now, he could finally strike without restraint!

"Today, I will teach you that there are some people you cannot afford to provoke!"

He sneered, his spiritual energy erupting with a roar as a surging pressure bore down upon Lu Changfeng. Lu Changfeng remained calm, showing no regard for him at all.

"The match begins!"

Following the command from the elder in the air, Luo Wuren slapped his storage bag, and a heavy sword materialized in his hand. He then took a fierce step forward, his form moving like a leopard, leaving trails of afterimages behind him. In the blink of an eye, he was right in front of Lu Changfeng.

"Die!"

Luo Wuren held his heavy sword high and brought it crashing down. Lu Changfeng’s expression remained indifferent; he showed no reaction. In his eyes, a Fifth-Level Zhou-Tian realm cultivator was no different from trash. Whether it was speed or strength, Lu Changfeng held him in complete contempt.

Just as the heavy sword was three feet from Lu Changfeng, he spoke calmly: "Too slow."

Then, Lu Changfeng’s frame jolted. He pressed his fingers together and thrust them forward. Though he acted later, he arrived first, striking directly onto Luo Wuren’s chest.

*Boom!*

A surge of crushing pressure followed Lu Changfeng’s fingers, slamming into his opponent.

"What?!"

Luo Wuren felt as if he had been struck by a mountain; his body was sent hurtling backward uncontrollably. His chest caved in instantly, and he spat out a mouthful of blood. His body flipped several times in mid-air before crashing heavily onto the stage.

Lu Changfeng would not give him a chance to breathe. He stamped his right foot into the ground, his body surging forward like a cannonball. In an instant, he was behind Luo Wuren. He delivered a heavy kick, slamming it hard into the other man's back.

*Crack!*

"Ah—!"

The immense pain forced a scream from Luo Wuren. His body flew like a projectile, smashing violently into the floor of the arena. Dust billowed, revealing a crater three yards wide. Lu Changfeng had not used any lethal techniques, but that single kick contained the full force of his physical strength.

Within the crater, Luo Wuren’s body trembled as waves of blood sprayed onto the ground.

"You..."

He lay on his back, staring at Lu Changfeng with bloodshot eyes, his finger trembling as he tried to point at him, his gaze filled with hatred. A moment later, his arm dropped, his head lolled to the side, and he lost consciousness.

Though it seemed to take a long time, the entire sequence occurred in less than two breaths. The elder in the air had not yet even reacted when the match concluded. The surrounding disciples who were engaged in their own fights saw the wretched state of Luo Wuren and all stopped, staring at Lu Changfeng in shock.

"What... what just happened?"

"My god, is this Lu Changfeng really a newcomer? I don’t believe it!"

"Is this the difference between a prodigy and an ordinary person?"

The disciples who had not yet competed stared with wide eyes, whispering among themselves. The elders overseeing the matches exchanged glances simultaneously.

"Is this the boy who achieved the Nine-Star Alignment? His strikes are ruthless, and his cultivation is formidable!"

"And he has been in the sect for less than a year, yet he has already attained such a level of cultivation?"

"This boy has a boundless future!"

Amidst the chatter, Lu Changfeng nodded slightly to the elder and stepped off the stage. Whether Luo Wuren lived or died, Lu Changfeng did not care. He knew that even if Luo Wuren survived, he would never be able to make a splash again; under Lu Changfeng’s final kick, he was already crippled.

Lu Changfeng stood on the spectator platform, waiting quietly. A moment later, Ye Yunlan walked over, her white robes stained with blood. Her aura was weak, and she looked as if she might collapse at any moment.

"What happened?" Lu Changfeng asked, frowning slightly.

"It’s nothing..." she replied. "I ran into a guy with a cultivation much higher than mine! Though I look a bit ragged, I won, didn't I?"

Ye Yunlan took a medicinal pill from her storage bag and swallowed it, and only then did her complexion improve slightly.

"You should forfeit," Lu Changfeng said, his brow furrowing. "In your current state, you won't be able to withstand even a random strike from your next opponent."

"No!" Ye Yunlan looked up at Lu Changfeng, her eyes filled with stubbornness. "As the Senior Sister of Yuehan Peak, I will never forfeit! If we don't place, the sect will drastically cut the resources for Yuehan Peak next year!"

Lu Changfeng waved a hand. "You don't need to worry about the ranking. I will fight for it!"

"But..." Ye Yunlan lowered her head, her gaze dropping. For years, she had carried the burden of Yuehan Peak alone, with no one to share her grievances. Hearing these words now touched something deep within her. She kept her head low to hide her reddened eyes and whispered, "Then I leave it to you... Senior Brother."

Lu Changfeng nodded slightly.

...

In the second round, Lu Changfeng stood on the arena, looking at his opponent. The disciple opposite him gulped silently and said, "Lu... Senior Brother Lu! I forfeit!"

This disciple’s cultivation was only at the Fifth-Level Zhou-Tian realm. He had been on the adjacent stage when Lu Changfeng had instantly defeated Luo Wuren, so he had no intention of fighting whatsoever. He leaped off the stage without hesitation, fearing that if he were a second late, he would be kicked off by Lu Changfeng.

Lu Changfeng bowed to the elder and returned to the side of the arena. Since the opponent surrendered, he was happy to take the rest.

The third round was the same.

By the fourth round, only thirty-two remained. As Lu Changfeng stood on the stage, waiting quietly for his opponent to arrive, he heard a familiar voice.

"It’s actually you!"

Lu Changfeng opened his eyes. Standing before him was He Jiaojiao of the Shendan Peak—the young girl he had met at the marketplace at the foot of the mountain.

Lu Changfeng nodded in acknowledgment. It had been half a year. The girl had grown much taller, and though her face still held a hint of childishness, it was fading. Her orange dress highlighted her lively temperament; she had truly blossomed. However, her figure remained as flat as ever.

Lu Changfeng spoke softly: "Your cultivation is at the Seventh-Level Zhou-Tian realm. You are too weak; you should forfeit."

He Jiaojiao bristled at his words. "Don't look down on me! Today, I’ll show you what I’m capable of!"