Amid a sky full of mockery and contempt, the atmosphere at Arena Five was pushed toward an almost absurd climax.

  Compared to the tense standoffs on the other arenas, this one seemed more like a one-sided execution—a fierce tiger versus a sickly cat.

  Below the arena, several disciples wearing Punishment Hall attire crossed their arms and sneered, deliberately speaking loud enough for everyone nearby to hear:

  "Senior Brother Lin Fang's luck with the draw is truly excellent. This first match doesn't even count as a warm-up."

  "Don't underestimate Senior Brother Lin Fang—he's not just some brute who only knows how to use raw strength."

  "His 'Stone-Splitting Fist' uses the Iron Leaf Gu in an unconventional way. He keeps it hidden between his fingers, held back but ready. When he punches, the iron leaves spin at high speed, like serrated brass knuckles."

  "Half a month ago in the back mountains, he used this technique to punch straight through an adult wild boar's skull!"

  "Tsk tsk, one punch through bone. That skinny monkey from the Rotten Shed District, with those stick-thin arms and legs—one punch like that will probably leave him either dead or crippled, right?"

  The surrounding gamblers were even more frenzied.

  Some even opened small betting pools on the spot, wagering whether the unlucky bastard named Lin Wuxie would lose a hand or a foot, or whether he'd be carried off before lasting three breaths.

  This atmosphere of "guaranteed victory" stretched the tension on the arena to its limit.

  "Silence!"

  The Steward overseeing Arena Five frowned and waved his hand to suppress the noise below.

  He glanced at Lin Wuxie on the opposite side—pale-faced, so frail it seemed a gust of wind could knock him over—and a trace of pity flashed through his eyes. But rules were rules.

  "Both parties, bow. Let the match... begin!"

  As the Steward's arm swept down.

  "Kid, lie down!"

  Lin Fang let out a thunderous roar.

  He had no intention of testing the waters. Against this kind of bottom-tier collateral relative, crushing him with the most brutal display was the best way to demonstrate the Punishment Hall's might.

  His fists instantly gleamed with a cold metallic light as the Iron Leaf Gu spun rapidly between his fingers.

  With quick, crushing steps, his massive frame charged forward like an arrow-loosed gray bear, bringing violent wind pressure as he rushed straight at Lin Wuxie.

  A heavy punch aimed directly at Lin Wuxie's face.

  Before the fist even arrived, the sharp whistling sound of the Iron Leaf Gu slicing through the air at high speed already stung the eardrums of the front-row spectators.

  As for Lin Wuxie.

  He stood quietly in place.

  Facing this punch capable of shattering stone and splitting metal, those pitch-black pupils held no panic, no fear—not even a hint of wanting to dodge.

  At this moment, his mind was filled entirely with that mysterious shadow from last night—the one he'd identified as his "Shadow Sect Senior Brother"—and that cold, arrogant reprimand:

  "Your eating manner is too ugly... Are you trying to turn yourself into a beast that only knows how to howl?"

  "I'm not a beast. I'm a disciple of the Shadow Sect."

  Lin Wuxie screamed madly in his heart. He didn't activate the barely-surviving Small Swallow Gu in his aperture, nor did he release any black light bearing traces of the demonic path.

  He simply, without any flourish, raised his seemingly skin-and-bones right arm.

  No Gu worm effects, no Primeval Essence enhancement—just the most ordinary straight punch.

  Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

  "Seeking death!"

  Seeing that his opponent actually dared to meet his Iron Leaf Gu-enhanced Stone-Splitting Fist with bare flesh, a cruel satisfaction flashed through Lin Fang's eyes.

  "BOOM—!"

  The two fists collided violently in midair.

  However, the expected crisp sound of shattering bones never came. Instead, what followed was a dull, enormous rumble like an ancient temple bell being struck.

  A visible shockwave exploded from where their fists met, sending dust flying across the arena.

  The cruelty on Lin Fang's face froze instantly, replaced by disbelief and horror.

  In that instant of contact, he felt as though his punch hadn't landed on a frail human body at all—but had smashed directly into the skull of an iron-skinned wind wolf charging at full speed!

  The terrifying recoil force transmitted from that thin arm surged toward him like a tidal wave.

  It not only instantly stopped the high-speed rotation of the Iron Leaf Gu between his fingers, but also made every bone in his right arm groan under unbearable strain.

  "How... is this possible..."

  Lin Fang's eyes went wide.

  He was horrified to discover that the youth's skin was taking on an eerie dark-red hue from the intense muscle compression and the wild surge of blood and qi.

  This was the tremendous power deposited deep within the flesh after the Food Path secret technique had refined countless wind wolves' blood and flesh—now completely ignited!

  "Hah!"

  Lin Wuxie let out a low, hoarse roar and advanced instead of retreating.

  His right foot stomped forward with tremendous force.

  "CRACK!"

  The arena floor, paved with hard bluestone, was actually stomped into an inch-deep footprint, gravel flying everywhere.

  Borrowing the momentum of this step, Lin Wuxie transformed his fist into a claw and grabbed Lin Fang's wrist in a vice grip.

  "Let go!"

  Lin Fang was terrified, frantically channeling the Primeval Essence in his aperture to break free.

  But he discovered in horror that this seemingly withered hand was now like a red-hot iron clamp, welded to his wrist, completely immovable.

  The strength of an ox! Perhaps even more!

  Lin Wuxie gave him no chance to catch his breath. His waist and abdomen exploded with power as he single-handedly lifted Lin Fang's massive body—over two hundred jin—straight off the ground!

  Like swinging a worn-out sack.

  After tracing a wretched semicircle through the air—

  "CRASH!"

  Lin Fang was smashed solidly against the thick protective stone pillar at the arena's edge.

  The pillar shook violently, spiderweb cracks instantly spreading across its surface.

  Lin Fang didn't even have time to let out a scream. His eyes rolled back, a mouthful of blood spraying from his mouth as he fell unconscious on the spot.

  The Iron Leaf Gu between his fingers let out a mournful cry from the excessive impact and its host's unconsciousness, automatically retreating back into the aperture.

  The battle was over.

  Just one move. One touch, one grab, one slam.

  The entire process lasted no longer than a flash of lightning.

  Below Arena Five—dead silence.

  The Punishment Hall disciples and gamblers who had just been mocking and discussing which of Lin Wuxie's legs would be broken now all stood like ducks with their throats seized, mouths agape, forgetting even to breathe.

  They stared wide-eyed, unable to comprehend what had just happened.

  A collateral orphan who hadn't used any Primeval Essence effects, without any Gu worm enhancement—how could he, through pure strength alone, crush a Punishment Hall elite like squashing an ant?

  What kind of monster was this?!

  Amid the stunned silence, Lin Wuxie expressionlessly released his grip, letting Lin Fang slide to the ground like mud.

  He turned and silently walked down the arena steps.

  His heart was racing like a war drum. But it wasn't from battle fatigue—it was from an indescribable excitement that threatened to set his entire being ablaze.

  He still didn't raise his head to look at the spectator stands, nor did he savor those gazes that had transformed from contempt to awe.

  He simply kept his head down, clenching his still-tingling fist, his heart screaming madly—almost prayerfully:

  "Did you see that, Senior Brother? I did it!"

  "I didn't use the black light! I didn't expose myself! I won with just this body alone!"

  "I didn't disgrace the Shadow Sect! I'm a worthy disciple!"

  This fervent sense of belonging born from self-manipulation made him seem like a glowing outsider even as he walked through the crowded masses, radiating an unapproachable aloofness and fanaticism.

  Meanwhile, at the referee's seat by the arena's edge.

  Lin Mu took everything in.

  On the surface, his expression remained normal—he even pretended to look extremely surprised, turning to the equally dumbstruck Steward beside him and sighing:

  "This kid... he actually has innate divine strength? He'd make a good seedling for training in the Strength Path."

  But in reality, beneath his wide sleeve, Lin Mu's fingers were lightly stroking that betting slip representing enormous wealth, the corner of his mouth curving into a deep smile that no one noticed.

  "This shell is indeed useful."

  With this upset, the bet he'd placed on Lin Wuxie had its odds multiply fivefold. This was far faster money than painstakingly hunting wild beasts outside.

  As for the shock brought by this instant victory—though remarkable, in the eyes of the upper echelons, it wasn't exactly earth-shattering.

  On the distant core viewing platform, several clan elders merely raised their eyebrows in mild surprise.

  In their view, this kind of pure strength without Gu worm enhancement was most likely some extremely rare "innate body tempering" constitution.

  Such a constitution indeed held tremendous advantage at Rank 1 and Rank 2, but without top-tier Strength Path Gu worms to complement it, the further one progressed, the more inadequate it would seem against various bizarre Gu Dao techniques.

  They simply noted down the name "Lin Wuxie" with mild interest, not investigating further. After all, the real main events—the battles of Lin Feng, Lin Xue, and others—hadn't yet begun.

  "DONG!"

  The second round war drums sounded. Matches on all eight arenas progressed simultaneously, flesh and blood flying, screams and cheers intertwining.

  Lin Mu tucked away the betting slip that had quintupled in value, his gaze turning toward the light screen where the new round's roster was scrolling, finally fixing on a name that burned with violent fury.

  "Lin Yan."

  Lin Mu narrowed his eyes, his gaze gradually sharpening.

  "This round, it's time for that mad lion who's been pent up for two months."