Mo Yang remained silent. In his heart, he still held a lingering anticipation of running up against an opponent at the Heaven Profound Realm, as that would truly reveal the extent of his current combat power.
When the arena battles commenced that afternoon, Xu Xin and Qi Heng stepped up successively. Though both secured three consecutive victories, the process had been fraught with suspense. After her third win, Xu Xin immediately chose to withdraw; since it was only the first round, she could not afford to fully expose her strength.
"The first round should be ending soon. Is it my turn yet?" Mo Yang opened his eyes, brazenly stretching his arms in a wide yawn, looking as though he had just woken from a nap.
Xu Xin shot Mo Yang a speechless look and said, "The various sects tacitly avoided matching their supreme talents against one another earlier, but you might run into Mu Qiu and Pang Long. Neither of them has fought yet!"
The Third Elder also chimed in with a warning: "If you run into Mu Qiu from the Yuqing Sect, don't try to trade blows head-on—just surrender straight away. There are still two rounds of matches after this; in the first round, avoid trouble whenever you can!"
Mo Yang nodded, then rose and walked toward the arena.
Mo Yang had expected Pang Long to step up directly, but to his surprise, someone else took the stage.
Mo Yang still had some impression of this person, who had been sitting together with Pang Long in the tavern earlier.
"Kid, remember, my name is Pu Fan!" the young man said, his expression cold and stern.
"Mo Yang!" Mo Yang smiled and answered calmly.
Mo Yang made his move instantly. With a flash of his figure, he was right in front of Pu Fan, and with a single punch thrown straight out, he blasted Pu Fan right off the arena.
The surrounding spectator stands fell into a pin-drop silence. Many people hadn't even had time to watch before it was already over—finished by just a single punch.
Let alone the others, even Pu Fan wore a dazed expression after being knocked off the stage.
Mo Yang had no desire to waste time; if something could be resolved with a single punch, he would never throw a second.
Chapter 30: No One Dares to Fight
The members of the Lingxu Sect were also frozen in place. Xu Xin hadn't even seen what had happened—her mind had merely wandered for a split second, and before she even saw the start, it was already over.
At that moment, Pu Fan raised his head to look back up at the arena, murderous intent surging in his eyes as he bellowed, "Kid, how dare you ambush me?"
Mo Yang spread his hands and said, "Big brother, both sides had already exchanged names, so the battle had officially begun. It's your own fault for standing there like a fool without moving—are you going to blame me?"
Filled with rage, Pu Fan leaped up violently, intending to charge back onto the arena, only to be kicked right back down by Mo Yang before his feet even touched the platform.
Mo Yang then swept his gaze directly toward the four sects' seating area and called out, "Next!"
Only then did an uproar break out all around the central plaza. Many observing cultivators murmured amongst themselves in low voices; strictly speaking, the fight *had* started, but Mo Yang's speed was simply too fast. Pu Fan hadn't reacted at all, not even having time to raise a defense before being blasted off the stage.
"Mo Yang? He's never appeared before. It seems this is his first time participating this year. This fellow is quite interesting!"
"That Xuan Sect disciple was much too careless. It ended before it even began, tsk tsk. Especially that kick at the end—that really had soul! The Xuan Sect has made a complete fool of themselves this time!"
"This kid is somewhat bizarre. What on earth is his cultivation level? I can't probe it at all..."
Amidst the chorus of discussions, a cold snort came from the Xuan Sect's side. Pang Long had originally wanted his junior brother to test the waters with Mo Yang first, but as a result, nothing could be gleaned, and the guy had ended up being kicked off the stage with a single blow. Unable to hold back any longer, Pang Long sprang up fiercely from his seat.
Mo Yang stood upon the arena, looking at Pang Long with a full-faced smile. There was no mockery in his expression; that smile looked completely harmless and very friendly.
Pang Long approached the edge of the arena, leaped lightly, and landed upon the stage. His expression was pitch black, murderous intent swirling within his eyes.
"Kid, your luck is terrible. You probably don't know the consequences of provoking the Xuan Sect!" Pang Long stared at Mo Yang, his voice chillingly stern.
Mo Yang smiled and shook his head, saying, "I don't!"
Pausing for a moment, Mo Yang continued with a question: "Does your hand still hurt?"
To the surrounding onlookers, these words seemed rather inexplicable, but Pang Long understood them all too well. It was as if someone had poked right at his sore spot, instantly twisting his expression into something ferocious.
Although Mo Yang appeared quite casual, he wasn't careless; the true qi within his body was already circulating.
With an angry shout, Pang Long charged fiercely forward. The entire arena seemed to vibrate as a violent wave of energy radiated from his body. Although he was only at Level 1 Earth Profound Realm, he was already in the mid-to-late stage of it, and this momentum alone far surpassed both Qi Heng and Xu Xin.
Standing his ground, Mo Yang circulated the fifth-tier mental technique of the Tyrant Fist and threw a punch.
Following a muffled thud, Pang Long's newly-charged body flew backward in a blur, retreating straight to the edge of the arena. One foot stepped into empty space, and he almost tumbled right off.
Another gasp of astonishment erupted from the surrounding crowd. Everyone knew how formidable Pang Long's physical body and strength were, yet this kind of situation had somehow occurred—he seemed completely unable to match his opponent.
In the Yuqing Sect's seating area, that perpetually aloof young man furrowed his brows for the very first time. His gaze narrowed slightly as he silently watched Mo Yang on the arena.
He was the number one genius of the Yuqing Sect, Mu Qiu!
Meanwhile, a look of doubt and uncertainty once again surfaced on Pang Long's face. Utter turmoil raged in his heart; after trading blows with Mo Yang yesterday, he had assumed Mo Yang was already using his full strength back then. Yet compared to the power behind that last punch, what he felt yesterday fell short by more than just a little.
"Off you go!"
Just as he regained his senses, Mo Yang's voice reached his ears. At the same time, Mo Yang had already arrived right in front of him. His expression changed drastically as he hurriedly circulated his power and raised both arms to block, but that incoming fist felt like a massive mountain crashing directly into him, sending him flying.
Pang Long landed steadily off the arena!
At this moment, Pang Long's expression grew even more ferocious. His arms ached as if they were broken; though he wasn't injured, his body had completely left the boundaries of the arena. He felt like spitting blood.
The entire central plaza was in an uproar. Two consecutive disciples sent out by the Xuan Sect had met the exact same outcome.
Pu Fan was one thing, but Pang Long—a genius famed for his formidable strength and physical body—had actually failed to endure even a single blow, being blasted off the arena on the very second strike.
The disciples of the Xuan Sect were completely dumbfounded. Although the overall strength of the Xuan Sect fell short of the Yuqing Sect and the Dragon Pool Pavilion, they had always suppressed the Lingxu Sect in the past. In their wildest dreams, they never would have imagined stumbling at the hands of a single disciple from the Lingxu Sect.
In the Lingxu Sect's seating area, even Qi Heng was filled with shock. Though he hadn't spoken a word, watching two battles that should have been fiercely contested end in the blink of an eye was simply too huge a blow to him. If it were him, he would have had a hard time dealing with Pang Long alone, yet Pang Long hadn't even lasted two rounds under Mo Yang's hands.
Though the Third Elder was also startled, he felt mostly joy. Before their departure, the Supreme Elder had told him that Mo Yang would definitely bring a surprise to the Lingxu Sect. At first, he had harbored some doubts, but after witnessing these two battles, he had no choice but to believe it.
"Big Brother Mo Yang is so amazing!" Su Feier beamed with delight, happier than anyone else as she looked at that figure on the arena, her eyes sparkling with little stars.
Xu Xin wore a complex expression. Yesterday in the tavern, she had known she was underestimating Mo Yang, but she never imagined he would be this formidable. And this wasn't even about his cultivation realm, but his physical body and strength.
Yet shortly after, the situation on the arena became somewhat awkward, because not a single other cultivator stepped forward onto the platform.
Mo Yang wore a speechless look, continuously casting his gaze toward the seating areas of the other three sects. But that side remained deathly quiet; aside from Pang Long and Pu Fan glaring at him with murderous eyes, no one else showed any intention of making a move.
"Where's the next one?" Mo Yang frowned, then looked toward the older cultivators presiding over the arena.
"The first round is entirely voluntary. If no one steps up, there is nothing we can do!" an old man explained, offering a clarification.
After waiting for a long time, Mo Yang stepped down from the arena with a helpless expression.
The onlookers sighed with emotion. Such a situation had never occurred in all the years of the Four Sects Martial Arts Festival. If it were because of Mu Qiu, they could understand, but because of an unknown disciple from the Lingxu Sect—this truly exceeded everyone's expectations.
The first round ended in such a bizarre fashion. When the round of arena battles concluded, the Dragon Pool Pavilion held the highest points, followed by the Yuqing Sect, with the Lingxu Sect ranking third. The Xuan Sect had it the worst; aside from having two disciples win two consecutive matches at the very beginning, they secured no further victories.
Upon returning to the inn, Mo Yang went straight into the Star Emperor Pagoda to continue comprehending the God-Slaying Art.
Chapter 31: I'm Quite Tough
Mo Yang unfolded the God-Slaying Art, concentrating his mind on comprehension. As his gaze swept over those messy, scattered brushstrokes, he felt as though he were watching peerless sword qi sweep toward him. Those originally chaotic characters seemed to possess a certain hidden rhythm; studying them with intense focus made it feel as though he could see a figure raising a sword and slashing downward.
Gradually, beads of sweat began to ooze from Mo Yang's forehead. The further down he read, the more those chaotic brushstrokes seemed to bleed, exuding a terrifying and murderous intent. In a trance, he felt as though he were witnessing a terrifying powerhouse lift a sword to sweep across the heavens and earth, with peerless sharpness filling the cosmos and leaving behind a battlefield of mountains of corpses and seas of blood.
"This sword manual is rather bizarre. This comprehension is completely different from the last one. No wonder that pretty sister said how much one comprehends depends entirely on oneself. The exact same sword manual, placed in the hands of different people, will inevitably yield different sword intents. Is it because of the vengeful desire for slaughter hidden deep within my heart? Why on earth did I conjure up an image of a sea of corpses and blood?"
After several hours of comprehension, Mo Yang gained a vague realization in his heart. What he felt was boundless slaughter qi; that sword intent seemed to carry a bloodthirsty flavor.
The night passed in the blink of an eye. The next day, the central plaza remained extraordinarily lively, as today marked the second round of competitions for the festival.
It would be even more intense than the first round. According to past convention, during the second round, all disciples from the four sects would face three arena battles each, and their opponents would be randomly drawn.
No sooner had the arena battles begun than the observing crowd burst into an uproar, because Mo Yang was actually the very first to take the stage.
"There are three arena battles in the second round. If you can conceal your strength, try not to expose it completely!" the Third Elder reminded Mo Yang. During the first-round matches, Mo Yang had only thrown a total of three punches; his true combat power was definitely even greater.
Mo Yang's opponent was a disciple of the Yuqing Sect, yet when Mo Yang walked up onto the arena, the Yuqing Sect's side remained completely motionless.
The crowd in the surrounding stands murmured amongst themselves, every gaze shifting toward the Yuqing Sect's area.
Mo Yang himself wore a dazed look.
What kind of ghost is this?
Where are the people?
"I surrender!"
Amidst the discussions of the crowd, a voice rang out from the Yuqing Sect's seating area.
In an instant, the entire central plaza exploded like a boiling pot. This kind of thing was actually happening to Mo Yang time and time again. It was like that in the first round, and now, right as the second round began, someone was directly forfeiting.
"My damn... Is this Mo Yang really that terrifying? His opponent doesn't even dare to step onto the arena!" an observing cultivator blurted out, dumbfounded.
"That Yuqing Sect disciple only has a Level 3 Spirit Awakening Realm cultivation. Even Pang Long was blasted off the arena by Mo Yang in two punches; isn't going up there at the Spirit Awakening Realm asking for punishment? Since he can't win anyway, surrendering directly avoids losing face!" another onlooker replied.
"This fellow Mo Yang is a bit freaky. His cultivation aura cannot be probed, and his true strength remains a mystery to this day. Otherwise, the supreme talents of the Dragon Pool Pavilion and the Yuqing Sect wouldn't have remained so indifferent yesterday."
Amidst the buzzing discussions of the crowd, Mo Yang sighed heavily as he walked down from the arena.
Shortly after, Qi Heng took the stage, only to be matched against Long Wu of the Dragon Pool Pavilion. With a difference of a full two realms in cultivation, Qi Heng was defeated after exchanging a dozen or so blows.
Everyone had anticipated such a result; after all, the gap in strength was simply too vast.
"The Lingxu Sect's strength is still lagging quite a bit behind the other three sects. I heard they've taken last place for five consecutive years. Who knows where that Mo Yang popped out of this year—he looks somewhat formidable!"
With a look of profound disappointment, Qi Heng returned to his seat, cast his gaze toward Mo Yang, and said in a deep voice, "Mo Yang, our only hope this time rests on you. If you still consider yourself a disciple of the Lingxu Sect, show the other three sects the true strength of our Lingxu Sect!"
Mo Yang glanced at Qi Heng and said nothing, feeling quite speechless inside. Was their perspective really this narrow? Winning or losing the festival couldn't fundamentally change anything; so-called rankings were nothing more than empty fame.
However, he was here this time to make up for his master's regrets, and it could also be considered a parting memory he left behind for the Lingxu Sect before his departure.
"Big Brother Mo Yang, what on earth is your cultivation level right now? Why does everyone not dare to spar with you?" Su Feier asked in a low voice, looking at Mo Yang with a face full of admiration.
Even Qi Heng and Xu Xin leaned in to listen; Mo Yang's cultivation level was likewise an unsolved mystery to them.
"Uh... My cultivation is just so-so. It's just that I'm relatively tough!" Mo Yang replied casually. Although his cultivation had now broken through to the Heaven Profound Realm, the impact that the Sixth Senior Sister had left upon him was simply too immense; the supreme geniuses hailing from those paramount great powers were probably even more terrifying.
Su Feier's cheeks flushed bright red, and she muttered with bashful shyness, "Big Brother Mo Yang, you're so bad!"
"Uh..." Mo Yang looked completely baffled. How was he "bad"? Having consumed countless marrow-cleansing pills and practiced the Star Emperor Scripture on top of that, his physical body had indeed become exceptionally formidable. Wasn't he tough?
Beside them, Xu Xin also let out a cold snort, leaving Mo Yang even more bewildered. Wasn't he tough?
Following that, the other disciples of the Lingxu Sect stepped up one after another. When Su Feier encountered Pang Long, she was blasted off the arena by a single punch after trading only a few blows. Pang Long had clearly done it on purpose, wanting to win back his lost face.
In the afternoon, Mo Yang fought two matches in succession. In the first, he encountered a disciple of the Xuan Sect, and the result was the same as before—the opponent couldn't even block a single punch from Mo Yang.
At times, Mo Yang felt like he was bullying little kids; after all, he had already reached the Heaven Profound Realm, whereas his opponents were merely at Level 3 Spirit Awakening Realm. Facing him, weren't they just one-punch fodder?
However, in his second match, he ran into Qian Wushuang of the Dragon Pool Pavilion. Qian Wushuang's cultivation was identical to Long Wu's, both being at Level 3 Earth Profound Realm. The moment the two of them stepped onto the arena, the entire plaza erupted into a boil.
Up until now, Mo Yang's path could be described as utterly smooth-sailing; his opponents either got blown back by a single punch right away or simply surrendered. Now, he had finally run into a supreme talent of the Dragon Pool Pavilion.
Though Qian Wushuang looked calm, he kept sizing Mo Yang up.
The surrounding onlookers speculated endlessly, and the disciples of all four sects watched with narrowed eyes, the Lingxu Sect included. This battle would allow them to roughly deduce the outcome of the third round. If Mo Yang could defeat Qian Wushuang, the Lingxu Sect stood a very high chance of claiming the ultimate championship.
After the two of them calmly exchanged names, the atmosphere grew tense in an instant.
"I never expected the Lingxu Sect to produce a figure like Brother Mo. If I'm not mistaken, Brother Mo must specialize in body-refining, and your cultivation should have reached Level 3 Earth Profound Realm as well!" Qian Wushuang did not rush to make a move, speaking thus after a silent appraisal.
Clearly, he also wanted to test the waters and see if he could probe out some of Mo Yang's background.
Mo Yang smiled and said, "Regardless of the cultivation realm, once I step onto the arena, my goal is to defeat you. I wonder if Brother Xiushuang intends to take one punch or two?"
As soon as these words fell, an uproar erupted beneath the arena.
"Holy shit... This Mo Yang is simply too arrogant! Does he think Qian Wushuang is one of those ordinary disciples?!"
"Damn it, Qian Wushuang is my idol! I cannot tolerate this. He's showing off again..."
Qian Wushuang's expression shifted slightly, a hint of coldness welling up in his eyes as he said, "Even Brother Mu Qiu, recognized by all four sects as the strongest genius, wouldn't dare speak such words!"
Mo Yang merely smiled. He had no desire to argue; even if Mu Qiu were at the Heaven Profound Realm, he would ask the exact same thing. If something could be resolved with a single punch, wasting an extra one wasn't that just a waste?
Chapter 32: A Cultivator's Nightmare
Qian Wushuang was exceptionally cautious. Although Mo Yang's words just then had stirred anger in his heart, he did not act impulsively when the fighting started, nor did he harbor the slightest bit of carelessness.
Yet the moment he saw that fist coming straight toward him, a feeling of emptiness struck his heart. Furthermore, Mo Yang's speed was terrifyingly fast, forcing him to hurriedly raise his sword in defense.
*Clang!*
A metallic ringing sound echoed out, causing many cultivators to hastily plug their ears—the sonic wave was simply too sharp and piercing.
Qian Wushuang's body retreated step by step, leaving deep footprints directly gouged into the stone floor of the arena. A flash of shock crossed his eyes; he had fought countless cultivators, but this was his first time encountering strength this formidable.
No wonder Pang Long couldn't block even two punches. Even he himself felt a numbness radiating through both arms at that moment, and the broadsword in his hand was still vibrating incessantly. He used all his strength to keep a grip on the hilt; had he retreated a few steps further, he would have tumbled right off the arena.
"As a cultivator, do you only know how to rely on brute strength?" Qian Wushuang cold snorted after steadying his stance.
Mo Yang frowned slightly and said, "Big brother, you can't even block brute strength—how else do you expect to play?"
Utterly depressed, Qian Wushuang wanted to curse out loud. Big brother your sister—who the hell is your brother?
"Don't panic, at most it's just a matter of one more punch. It'll be over soon!" With that, Mo Yang clenched his fist once more, flashed forward, and struck.
Qian Wushuang almost coughed up blood. He frantically mobilized all the cultivation power within his body and slashed out fiercely with his sword.
Yet the next moment, he was completely dumbfounded. That dazzling sword radiance had clearly slashed outward and looked as though it had struck Mo Yang dead-on, but the very next instant, an iron fist landed squarely against his body.
Qian Wushuang's body was sent flying directly, landing solidly off the arena.
This scene was all too familiar, having played out more than once before. Yet with this happening to Qian Wushuang, it truly felt unbelievable.
By now, this kind of scene had become a nightmare for many cultivators. It seemed that fighting Mo Yang meant there was simply no escaping this outcome.
Until this very moment, Qian Wushuang still couldn't figure out how Mo Yang had managed to evade that sword strike of his. At that distance and from that angle, how could anyone possibly dodge it? Yet Mo Yang had miraculously dodged it, emerging completely unscathed.
"What are you spacing out for? I already told you it was just a matter of one punch—what's the point of struggling?" Mo Yang stood upon the arena, looking calmly at Qian Wushuang, whose face was livid with a mixture of anger and incomprehension.
The scene fell into a dead silence. In the seating area of the four sects, many people rose to their feet as if afraid they wouldn't see clearly, every single pair of shocked eyes staring fixedly at the arena.
Especially on the side of the Dragon Pool Pavilion, Long Wu—who shared the status of supreme talent alongside Qian Wushuang—wore an expression of utter disbelief. Could it be that Mo Yang was a Heaven Profound Realm cultivator?
Otherwise, how could Qian Wushuang fail to block even two punches?
"Brother Qian, I have no intention of humiliating you. I simply prefer a simple and direct combat style, because I'm not here for a friendly spar—I am here solely to claim the championship!"
Looking at the enraged Qian Wushuang beneath the arena, Mo Yang spoke calmly.
In an instant, discussions surged around the plaza like a tidal wave. Although Mo Yang seemed far too arrogant to countless people, they had to admit that he possessed the capital to be so.