Chapter 66: One Battle Shocks the City (Part 3)

The strongest among the sixteen-year-olds, Li Hao, was easily defeated by his peer, while Xia Yu Bo, the stern-faced one, bit his lip in annoyance, seething with resentment. He loathed his own meager spiritual power; how could he possibly regain face for Li Hao and the New Moon Xuan Foundation, let alone earn the right to challenge Xuan Yu? Yet no one anticipated that Xuan Yu would aim his spear at him. Gazing at Xuan Yu’s fingertips, Xia Yu’s eyes widened, his mind going blank.

And to top it all off, this Xuan Yu actually called him “big brother!”

All eyes instantly fixed upon Xia Yu, the elders of the New Moon Xuan Foundation furrowed their brows in unison, while the disciples gaped in shock. None of them had foreseen that Xuan Yu would choose as his opponent a mere fifteen-year-old who had come today purely for show! Though, to those unfamiliar with Xia Yu, his astonishing physique would have led them to assume he was at least eighteen or nineteen—normal for his stature.

Si Kong Han spoke up: “This is my disciple, Xia Yu. Though you may call him ‘big brother,’ you cannot—he may be physically imposing, but he is only fifteen years old, the youngest in our foundation.”

“Fifteen… years old?” Many at the Seven Xuan Gate simply spat out their tea in surprise. Xuan Yu himself stood gaping.

“Yu, since this Xuan Heart Sect disciple wishes to spar with you, then face it calmly.” Si Kong Han turned back, his voice steady. “You’re still young; even if you lose, it’s no disgrace. Show your skills.”

“Understood, elder.” Xia Yu nodded, rising to his feet. His towering six-foot-three frame straightened, sending shockwaves through the hall. Yun Che stepped forward, placing a hand on his shoulder. “Be careful—don’t get hurt.”

“Heh, don’t worry. My spiritual power may be weak, but my body’s tough.” Xia Yu confidently patted his chest and strode into the main hall. Standing before Xuan Yu, he declared, “I am Xia Yu of the Xuan Foundation’s B-Rank. Fifteen years old—please guide me.”

Xuan Yu had clearly intended to challenge someone older, someone who looked at least eighteen, yet he’d stumbled upon a mere fifteen! Even if Xia Yu, at sixteen, won, it would hardly be impressive. He casually tested Xia Yu’s spiritual power, his lips curling in disdain… a mere six stages of the Early Xuan level! What a joke—picking such a feeble opponent would make him look ridiculous!

“This fool! I knew he’d cause trouble at this banquet! If outsiders think a six-stage Early Xuan can be an elite disciple of the Xuan Foundation, they’d laugh me out of the city! Pah, what an embarrassment!”

A stream of mocking, scornful mutters echoed in Yun Che’s ears. Yun Che glanced sideways, gave a faint look toward Murong Ye, then refocused entirely on Xia Yu.

Murong Ye, who had been silent moments before, suddenly froze. His entire body shuddered violently. He hastily turned around, scanning the room, his heart racing… In that instant, he’d felt an unbearable chill, as though he’d plunged into a frozen cavern, and seen terrifying snake-like eyes staring at him. Yet when he looked around, there was nothing amiss. The terrifying sensation faded, leaving him to brush his forehead, where cold sweat had begun to form—now doubting his own senses.

“Drink! Tear the mountain asunder, split the stone!”

Xia Yu struck first, clenching his fists and leaping upward, delivering a devastating blow. His massive frame and the crushing pressure behind it truly carried a semblance of “splitting stone and tearing mountains.”

“This pathetic spiritual technique dares show itself here? If Xuan Yu lets him land three moves, he’ll never earn respect again!” A senior disciple of the Xuan Heart Sect sneered.

Facing Xia Yu’s colossal strike, Xuan Yu didn’t dodge or deflect, nor did he assume a stance to cast a technique. Instead, he simply dropped his right arm horizontally, blocking the blow with crude efficiency. His lips curled with contempt…

A dull thud. Xia Yu’s fists slammed into Xuan Yu’s forearm. The arm dipped slightly, then snapped back like a woken serpent, his spiritual power erupting.

*Snap!*

“Ugh—ahhh!!”

“Yu!” Yun Che leapt to his feet.

As Xia Yu cried out, his arms—both of them—dislocated in an instant. Xuan Yu’s single arm whipped out, hurling Xia Yu’s three-hundred-and-fifty-pound body over a meter into the air.

At this point, the “sparring” was over. Xia Yu had been defeated outright, a result that met everyone’s expectations. Xuan Yu’s profound mastery, spiritual cultivation, and techniques allowed him to prevail against an opponent just one level below—let alone Xia Yu, who was only at the Early Xuan sixth stage. But as Xia Yu’s body hovered above the ground, about to crash down, Xuan Yu’s lips curled downward, a violet light flickering around his right fist.

Yun Che sensed the shift instantly and bellowed, “Stop!”

But Xuan Yu paid him no heed. With a merciless punch infused with violet clouds, he slammed into Xia Yu’s body as it prepared to land.

The sharp crack of at least three ribs snapping rang out clearly.

“Yu!!”

Yun Che could do nothing more. He vaulted over and caught Xia Yu before he hit the ground. Xia Yu hit the floor with a sickening thud, his face pale as death, blood trickling from his mouth, his features twisted in agony. Though his body was strong, his protective spiritual power was too weak to withstand Xuan Yu’s blow.

Yun Che glared at Xuan Yu, his face dark with fury. “The contest was meant to be a spar—only to test skills. Once the outcome was clear, why did you press the attack so severely?”

“Hah!” Xuan Yu sneered. “Sparring is one thing, but swords and blades have no mercy, fists and feet are hard to restrain—this is common knowledge. When sparring goes too far and someone is nearly killed, it’s no surprise. I didn’t expect the elite disciples of the New Moon Foundation to be so weak—they broke their limbs and bled after just one or two moves. What do you want from me? Blame me for not being strong enough, or blame me for pushing too hard?”

“Indeed, brother. Between us, breaking limbs and bones is normal in sparring—this is what true sparring means. The New Moon Foundation can’t even endure a scratch—of course they’ve been struggling all along. Pah…”

“As I said, Xuan Yu’s already shown mercy. If he’d fought at full strength, that little one couldn’t have survived with his Early Xuan six-level defenses, not to mention the spiritual energy he had at the time. He’s only just joined our foundation—how could he be expected to withstand such a blow? It’s my duty to step in, but who could stop it?”

A chorus of sharp voices echoed from the Seven Xuan Gate. The elders of the New Moon Foundation shook their heads in helpless agreement. Yun Che’s face flushed with anger, then he forced a bitter smile, lifting Xia Yu and placing him beside Lan Xueruo. “Sister Xueruo, could you please tend to Yu? He’s badly hurt.”

“Of course!” Lan Xueruo quickly descended, producing a pill of jade and white. As she placed it in Xia Yu’s mouth, she looked up to see Yun Che already standing, advancing toward Xuan Yu.

“So that’s what he said. Swords and blades have no mercy, fists and feet are hard to restrain.” Yun Che stood before Xuan Yu, his expression calm and unreadable. Gazing at this man who’d so brazenly inflicted grievous harm on Xia Yu, he spoke softly: “Remember those words… Now, I’ll be your opponent!”

“Who is this youth? Sixteen years old, already reaching Xuan level one, and his spiritual power surpasses even Li Hao’s—I’ve never seen him before!” The elders of the New Moon Foundation were utterly bewildered.

“No need to wonder—he is indeed our disciple, though he only joined us this noon. He’s the grandson of my old friend.” Si Kong Han explained to the others, though his brow was etched with worry. Yun Che’s spiritual power was indeed slightly stronger than Li Hao’s, but only marginally—barely a step above. Li Hao had been devastated by Xuan Yu, and Yun Che could not possibly have a different outcome. At best, he might last a few more rounds. If he’d just joined the foundation and was already injured, it would be a disgrace to their patriarch, Xiao Lie. In this situation, whoever was chosen to challenge had no choice but to face it. The one who stepped forward to block it… there was no stopping him. He could only watch and pray Yun Che wouldn’t be seriously hurt.

“Brother… be careful! He’s… he’s too strong…” Xia Yu clutched his chest, his voice pained.

Yun Che’s words made Xuan Yu pause, then he burst into a wild, incredulous laugh: “Ha ha ha ha! Are you warning me? Threatening me? Trying to repay evil with evil? Ha! Ha! Ha! Just you? Ha! Ha! Ha!”

Xuan Yu’s laughter was loud and mocking, yet no one found it particularly arrogant. He laughed until his sides ached, then sneered: “Hmph. Didn’t expect someone in the sixteen-year-old bracket at the New Moon Foundation to be able to match Li Hao. That level would be impressive in New Moon City—though today, you’ve met me. Seeing you dare challenge me, I’ll give you an honor. How about this?”

Xuan Yu extended five fingers, wiggling them in front of Yun Che. “Five moves. If you can spar with me for more than five strikes, this contest counts as your victory. What do you say?”

“Ha ha ha! Xuan Yu, you really think highly of him!” A chorus of laughter erupted from the Seven Xuan Gate.

The banquet’s host, Qin Yong, who’d remained silent since the sparring began, finally showed the slightest stir. He watched Yun Che’s calm face, unmoved by Xuan Yu’s endless mockery and laughter, and felt a quiet awe: This boy isn’t ordinary.

“Have you finished your idle words?” Yun Che spoke coldly.

“Oh! You’re… named… Yun, right? Don’t just stand there—if you want to begin, attack whenever you like. At least then you’ll get a chance to strike. If I strike first, you might not get the chance to fight back.” Xuan Yu stood with hands clasped before him, smiling.

“Hmph,” Yun Che also smiled. He said nothing further. Suddenly, his body surged forward. His left hand stretched out in a straight line toward Xuan Yu’s neck.

“How? No spiritual technique at all?” Xuan Yu’s sneer grew more scornful, his eyes half-closed. Until Yun Che’s left arm was within two feet of his face, Xuan Yu’s right hand shot out like lightning, grabbing Yun Che’s left wrist and precisely trapping his extended arm in his palm…

A sinister smile flickered on Xuan Yu’s lips. As he prepared to unleash his spiritual power and snap Yun Che’s wrist, his palm—already gripping the wrist—felt utterly empty… His fingers passed right through Yun Che’s wrist, grabbing nothing but air! And Yun Che’s figure, at that moment, vanished like mist…

At the same time, a gust of wind swept in from Xuan Yu’s right side. Confused, he couldn’t react in time…

*PIA!*

A thunderous, sharp slap echoed through every corner of the main hall. Every person heard it clearly, the crisp sound like a smack to their own face. Xuan Yu was sent flying into the air, spinning completely 1,440 degrees before crashing down heavily.

This was Yun Che’s fist, unleashed without reservation. He brushed his slightly reddened right hand against his clothing and murmured, “First move.”