Chapter 432: Winner and Loser Already Clear

Chapter 432: The Outcome Decided

"To secure the military certification, I must establish an absolute advantage."

"With an overwhelming lead, I will conquer this exam, leaving no room for others."

This was the singular thought burning in Ping Han's mind.

He did not know how the others were faring.

Yet, if someone else managed to protect their array core with 100% integrity, he would not be the least bit surprised.

Therefore, to further solidify his advantage,

He decided... it was not enough to merely maintain 100% integrity.

Before the exam concluded, he would unleash his full power... to annihilate the Yellow Turban legion before him!

But achieving this before the clock ran out was no small feat.

He needed not just an all-out burst, but a display of decisive, catastrophic force.

Amidst a series of thunderous, rhythmic booms,

The earth fractured, and massive chasms suddenly tore open, as if an invisible blade were carving a colossal rectangle out of the landscape.

Throughout the battle, Ping Han had not focused on building defensive fortifications, but on clandestine subterranean excavation.

He had been slicing the earth like a cake, carving out a gargantuan slab.

Now, as dust and debris surged toward the heavens, the severed earth began to rise, lifted by Ping Han as if he were hoisting a cake from its tin.

Flashes of his journey along the path of immortality raced through Ping Han's mind.

"Working for others earns no fortune, nor does it break the Golden Core bottleneck; it only drains one's lifespan, turning one into fuel for another's ascension."

"To reach the Golden Core, one must strike it rich."

"And to strike it rich, one must speculate on coins."

"Because for cultivators of our era, for wretches like us... every other path to sudden wealth has been sealed off, one by one."

"It is not that I chose to speculate; the era chose it for me."

"The coins chose me, and only through them... do I have a sliver of a chance to outpace the wealthy. This is the meager destiny left to the poor in this new age."

"The poor become ghosts, the rich become immortals. A few years of speculation is better than a century of bitter struggle only to fade into a wandering spirit."

At this thought, Ping Han laughed aloud, his voice ringing out: "The path of immortality is blocked, so coins shall be my bridge. I stake my soul on this gamble, and today... I shall bet it all once more!"

"Rise, mountain!"

In an instant, as a flurry of assets and contracts were mortgaged, Ping Han squeezed out his final reserves, pushing his artifacts and constructs to their absolute limits.

Following his roar, various artifacts plunged into the earth, some unleashing raw power, others detonating with seismic force...

Roar!

"Rise, mountain!"

With a deafening crash, the horizon, which had only been rising slowly under the pressure of his minor maneuvers, now shuddered violently and surged upward.

Like a mountain erupting from the ground, its rapidly expanding shadow instantly engulfed the Yellow Turban legion.

"Rise, mountain!"

Amidst his roar, veins bulged across Ping Han’s body, his mana surging and draining at an impossible rate.

The balance in his spiritual coin account flickered, plummeting toward zero.

He held his hands high, as if supporting the heavens, his eyes fixed with fury upon the Yellow Turban army.

As he slammed his hands downward, it was as if he were shattering the obstacles on his path to immortality, determined to ascend to the peak, step by step.

Boom!

In a cataclysmic roar, the earth, blotting out the sun, crashed down, intent on grinding everything in its path into dust.

The ground heaved and buckled in a series of visible, rolling waves, as if a massive earthquake had torn through the landscape.

The sky-high dust cloud instantly obscured the entire arena, blinding every spectator.

...

Witnessing this staggering strike, even the judges and guests on the flying ship were moved.

"A strike that gambles everything,"

True Monarch Qiyun remarked, "It has been a long time since I have seen such a spectacular performance in the civil engineering military certification."

"Ping Han deserves this certification."

Not far away, Director Gao watched the scene, his heart trembling.

In this strike, he felt Ping Han’s intent, his fighting spirit, and the weight of his choices.

"Ping Han is not unaware of the risks of speculation."

"He knows the danger, yet he is willing to wager his entire existence, time and time again."

"He does not seek a long life or a steady flow; he only wishes to burn bright—to either become a ghost or an immortal—demanding only a swift, decisive end."

"Ping Han, you..."

Director Gao sighed deeply. He did not believe the young man had chosen the right path, but seeing such resolve, he knew further persuasion was futile.

"I hope that once you secure this certification, you can travel even further."

But just then, True Monarch Tianxiang spoke abruptly: "It is not over yet."

He curled his trunk, his tusks suddenly elongating, and a glint of excitement appeared in his eyes: "Zhang Yu has made his move." "Interesting, truly interesting."

"Could this exam still hold more surprises?"

It was not only True Monarch Tianxiang who noticed; the judges and guests present, one after another, shifted their gaze to the other side of the arena, toward where Zhang Yu stood.

...

Feeling the faint tremors vibrating through the earth, Zhang Yu knew this must be the result of the commotion in the other sector.

Though he had not witnessed it, the intensity of the tremors alone allowed him to imagine how fierce, terrifying, and earth-shattering that strike must have been.

"Has someone arrived at the same conclusion as I have?"

"Merely protecting the array core at 100% integrity may not be enough to guarantee the military certification."

"When multiple candidates achieve 100% integrity, the decision will inevitably fall to their performance in other areas."

"And the number of Yellow Turban soldiers eliminated will clearly be a critical factor."

As these thoughts flashed through his mind, Zhang Yu stood atop the head of the Formless Spirit General, silently accumulating his own strongest strike.

Within the Spirit General’s dantian, rows of Prairie-Fire Towers and Soul-Condensing Towers fired in unison, sending bolts of lightning and cold light crashing into Zhang Yu’s Formless Cloud Qi, filling the twenty empty apertures within his aura one by one.

Under the augmentation of the Martial Saint Body, the Level 20 Nine Heavens Cloud Void Force was not only perfectly utilized, but in the process of redirecting force, it could rebound energy even more violently than it had arrived.

As the lightning and cold light passed through the Nine Heavens Cloud Void Force, their power was amplified.

Meanwhile, the Level 20 Treasure Appraisal Art had already been secretly activated multiple times as Zhang Yu consumed the wreckage of the Yellow Turban soldiers.

At this moment, Zhang Yu had become intimately familiar with the structure of the Yellow Turban Warriors, his gaze dissecting the vulnerabilities of every construct on the field.

This insight served to amplify the potency of his impending strike by yet another layer.

In the next instant, as Zhang Yu pressed his palms together, the Minor Tri-Unity erupted, causing the back of the Formless Spirit General to heave and ripple.

Hah!

Amidst his thunderous roar, Zhang Yu pushed the Great Wilderness Mountain-Moving Force to level 20 and the Earth-Governing Divine Transformation to level 10, alongside his Profound Yellow Mountain-Suppressing Seal.

The power of the Minor Tri-Unity surged to the 16th level, causing the Formless Spirit General’s frame to swell violently in size.

The onlookers on the flying vessel were moved, a singular thought rising in their hearts: "A breakthrough? He achieved a breakthrough in the Seven Arts of Earth and Wood right in the heat of battle?"

This level of "breakthrough" granted Zhang Yu’s subsequent offensive yet another layer of fortification.

Simultaneously, the War Demon Life-Waning Art, the Endless Spring-Autumn Zen, and other techniques were unleashed, layering even more strength into his next move.

The next moment, a deafening, thunderous roar erupted.

As the 16th-level Minor Tri-Unity was activated under the aegis of the Martial Dao Saint Body, countless palms of varying sizes burst forth from the back of the Formless Spirit General.

Under the control of his four-fold consciousness, a relentless, sky-filling torrent of palms surged outward, sweeping across the entire legion of Yellow Turban Warriors.

Each palm, propelled by the force of the Minor Tri-Unity, carried the crushing power of the Dragon-Elephant Mountain-Collapsing Palm.

Within every palm print lay the essence of the Nine Heavens Void Force, unleashed with microscopic precision to deliver attacks channeled from the Prairie-Fire Platforms and Soul-Condensing Towers.

Deep within the dantian of the Formless Spirit General, the Prairie-Fire Platforms and Soul-Condensing Towers continued their assault, funneling power through the Nine Heavens Void Force.

Under the enhancement of the Time-Severing Demon Pupil, the world seemed to slow, every movement of the palms and every twitch of the Yellow Turban Warriors laid bare to Zhang Yu’s perception.

Surging power, cloaked in explosive aura, slammed ruthlessly into the exposed weaknesses of the Yellow Turban Warriors.

Zhang Yu whispered to himself: "This move shall be called..."

"Nine Heavens Void, Thousand-Handed Saint Martial!"

Every thread of power had been refined through layers of ultimate intensification.

Every application of the technique struck the target’s weakness with surgical precision.

Boom, boom, boom, boom, boom!

The earth trembled, and dust billowed in churning clouds.

Palms wreathed in misty white aura descended like falling meteors, bombarding the entire battlefield.

The moment the overwhelming force touched the bodies of the Yellow Turban Warriors, it seeped in like water, twisting and grinding toward their vital points.

Under the terrifying onslaught, the land was littered with severed limbs and shattered remains, the ground scarred by countless craters and palm prints.

The carnage ceased only when Zhang Yu’s mana was nearly exhausted.

But just as the onlookers believed it was over, Zhang Yu, standing atop the head of the Formless Spirit General, drew a deep breath.

In his mind, the Four-Headed White Bull roared to the heavens.

Under the strain of extreme exertion, his battered body was forcibly stabilized through cellular activation.

In his nearly depleted dantian, as Zhang Yu switched to the Flow of Qi Veins, wisps of mana were forcibly squeezed from his flesh, blood, stamina, and essence.

Zhang Yu spat out a mouthful of blood, then grinned, roaring in his heart: "Damn it... body! Give me one more time!"

As he switched the Flow of Qi Veins back to the Martial Dao Saint Body, the next moment...

Nine Heavens Void, Thousand-Handed Saint Martial!

Even during the first wave of attacks, Zhang Yu had already prepared the second.

Now, palms shrouded in clouds and mist soared into the sky.

The clouds were stained with Zhang Yu’s blood, making the palms appear like burning meteors as they plummeted to the earth, sweeping the battlefield clean once more just before the examination ended.