"BOOM——!!"
After the violent explosion, the entire arena seed to have experienced an earthquake. Smoke and debris swirled through the air, obscuring everyone's vision.
The entire venue fell deathly silent, thousands of eyes fixed on that chaos.
As a bleak autumn wind swept through, the dust gradually dispersed, revealing the extrely brutal scene within.
Lin Ze's expensive, gold-threaded brocade robes had been completely scorched and torn apart. Covered in blood and utterly lifeless, he lay in a crater blasted into the stone. His body resembled a rag doll, completely unconscious, his fate uncertain.
The once-impenetrable Rank 2 Golden Bell barrier on his body had also completely dimd.
Though this Golden Bell Gu was top-grade and had been enhanced with secret techniques by the Storage Hall Elder—allowing a Rank 1 Gu Master to barely activate it for protection—once a Gu Master's Prival Essence was exhausted, even the finest passive defense beca water without a source.
A pity: the Gu was excellent, but the person was no apex killer.
"Quick! Save him!"
The dical Gu Masters who had been standing ready outside the arena cried out in alarm, rushing onto the stage as if facing a great enemy. Various healing Gu worms brimming with vitality were poured onto Lin Ze without restraint.
anwhile, a dozen steps away from Lin Ze, Lin Yan still stood.
But he no longer possessed his earlier arrogance and invincibility. He gasped for breath in great heaving gulps, each breath accompanied by threads of blood seeping from the corners of his mouth—clearly suffering from extrely severe internal injuries.
Even more shocking were his external wounds. From his right shoulder extending down to his chest ran a horrifying gash deep enough to expose bone, carved open by the unstoppable edge of the tal Rend Gu. Blood flowed wildly down his muscular fra.
Moreover, his eyes had been severely burned from witnessing the Rosy Clouds Gu's explosion at close range. They were now tightly shut, two shocking streams of bloody tears running down his face.
Lin Yan didn't even have the strength to raise his hand or deliver his usual bold proclamations. His legs trembled slightly; he was relying entirely on that mad, demonic willpower in his bones, gritting his teeth to barely maintain his standing posture.
But in the end, he was the one left standing.
"The... the seventh match, Lin Yan of the Punishnt Hall wins!"
The elder serving as referee glanced at the brutal scene, his voice carrying a hint of hoarseness as he announced the result.
"Hiss——!"
A collective sharp intake of breath swept through the audience below.
The spectators' scalps tingled at this mutual-destruction-level brutality, marveling at Lin Yan's ferocity—to actually endure such a blinding, heart-piercing desperate attack with only a Rank 1 body.
But in the premium viewing area outside the arena, Lin Mu's eyes narrowed slightly, his gaze extrely profound.
"Sothing's off."
Lin Mu watched Lin Ze being carried off, then looked at Lin Yan standing in place receiving ergency treatnt.
He thought to himself, "A Rank 1 Gu Master's mortal flesh, even for a Strength Path cultivator, should have had their heart pierced taking a direct lethal strike from an extre offensive Gu like the tal Rend Gu. How is he still standing?"
Using the residual vision from his Eagle Eye Gu, Lin Mu keenly caught a detail.
At the edges of Lin Yan's bone-deep wound, there lingered an extrely subtle Prival Essence fluctuation that was rapidly dissipating—the aura of a more substantial defensive asure.
"A defensive Gu sealed within his body by so elder?"
Lin Mu's understanding elevated in this mont. He ntally re-tagged these major clan disciples with a new label: "plenty of hidden cards."
"Never underestimate these young masters. Lin Ze had the Rank 2 Golden Bell and Rosy Clouds Gu; Lin Feng has a one-ti Rank 3 killing move as backup; Lin Yan, as the Punishnt Hall Grand Elder's grandson, naturally has life-saving trump cards from the Punishnt Hall too."
"If I ever beco their enemy in the future, unless I have absolute certainty of crushing them along with their hidden cards, I must never strike to kill rashly—otherwise, I'll only invite backlash upon myself."
Victory had been decided on the arena, but the silent confrontation on the high platform had only just begun.
The Punishnt Hall Grand Elder and the Storage Hall Elder sat in their elevated positions. Far from feeling any joy at their disciples' spectacular performances, their expressions were shifting between light and dark, ugly to the extre.
This kind of mutually destructive, high-intensity internal conflict had essentially wasted half their bargaining chips. Lin Ze was severely injured and eliminated; Lin Yan had won, but with those injuries, how far could he go in the upcoming ranking matches?
The elders from other halls kept their eyes downcast and remained silent, not daring to discuss openly. After all, this cruel clash between seeded contestants should never have occurred in the first round of the top thirty-two.
However, just as the atmosphere reached its most oppressive point—
"Clap! Clap! Clap!"
Patriarch Lin Cang, the Rank 4 expert seated in the position of honor, suddenly began applauding with a hearty laugh.
"Excellent! What a splendid counterattack from the brink! What magnificent courage in the face of adversity!"
Lin Cang called out praise loudly, his face full of gratification and admiration, his resonant voice carrying throughout the venue. "Our clan's disciples are truly brave and resourceful, their fighting spirit undiminished! Tempering themselves between life and death like this—how could our Black Blood Stockade not prosper in the future?!"
Seated below him, Supre Elder Lin Zhen stroked his beard with a smile, chiming in: "The Patriarch speaks truly. Jade must be carved to beco a vessel. Only through real blood and fire can one shoulder the clan's great burden."
The two sang in perfect harmony, looking as close as two legs in the sa pair of trousers.
Listening to these high-sounding empty words, several powerful elders exchanged glances, their eyes filled with deep helplessness and frustration.
This was the cruel political reality.
Before, Patriarch Lin Cang had only been at Rank 3 Peak. Though his combat power was first, the various halls could still use their hidden cards, resources, and united resistance to maintain balance, barely preserving their share of power within the clan.
But now, tis had changed.
Lin Cang had successfully broken through to Rank 4, completing his ascension. Combined with Lin Zhen, a Rank 3 Peak absolute loyalist serving as his aide, this suppression through major realm difference stood before all the elders like an insurmountable chasm!
In the Gu world, combat power was the ultimate source of all authority.
The elders were no fools. They instantly understood in tacit agreent: this so-called "random drawing" was nothing but the Patriarch's cruel test and weakening of them.
Using thods that followed the rules, openly crippling your subordinates—and you not only cannot resist, you must hold your nose and applaud.
"From now on, this Black Blood Stockade will probably beco completely the Patriarch's one-man show."
Each elder silently raised their teacup, swallowing that bitter tea.
...
After experiencing such a heart-stopping, flesh-and-blood seeded confrontation, the subsequent matches in the round of thirty-two advancing to sixteen, though still fairly intense with various Gu worms appearing one after another, seed rather bland to an audience whose threshold had already been raised.
No more upsets occurred. Powerful inner disciples steadily eliminated those collateral mbers who had advanced through luck, and the tournant's progress beca tedious and predictable.
Lin Mu leaned against a bluestone pillar at the edge of the venue, watching the diocre fighters pecking at each other on stage with waning interest.
"Too slow, too many openings, and their Prival Essence usage is an utter ss..."
He critiqued casually in his mind. After all, his own progress during this period had been nothing short of miraculous—whether in Prival Essence quality or killing technique depth, he had far exceeded the normal paraters of Rank 1. Watching this minor scuffling naturally felt uninteresting.
Just as Lin Mu was growing drowsy, preparing to close his eyes and rest while waiting for the day's matches to end—
"Ninth match!"
The referee's loud cry instantly pulled the audience's flagging attention back to its peak.
"Lin Feng versus... Inner Disciple Lin Tao!"
Hearing this na, Lin Mu's half-closed eyes slowly opened, a sharp glint flashing in their depths before vanishing.
He straightened up, watching with keen interest as an upright figure erged from the preparation area—clad in snow-white robes like a banished immortal, gracefully floating onto the arena.
"The number one seed..."
A faint, enigmatic smile curved at the corner of Lin Mu's mouth as he murmured softly:
"Long ti no see, my dear 'Young Master Feng.'"
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