As night deepened and Lin Mu finalized the frawork for his future wilderness squad in his mind, the tournant entered its most intense phase.
The seven-day recess passed in the blink of an eye, filled with countless sleepless nights and secret scheming.
The Black Blood Stockade arena once again teed with spectators, war drums rolling across the mountains like muffled thunder.
Sixteen geniuses who had erged from the brutal preliminary rounds began a new wave of fierce combat for those eight fate-determining "squad captain" positions.
This "Round of 16 to 8" progressed surprisingly fast.
The most watched, naturally, was the Pride of the Punishnt Hall—Lin Yan, returning with grievous wounds.
Seven days had passed, and though the Punishnt Hall had poured in massive resources, the penetrating wound caused by the tal Rend Gu clearly hadn't fully healed.
Lin Yan's complexion was sowhat pale, and one could even hear faint crackling sounds from his lungs when he breathed.
But the mont he stepped onto the arena, that suppressed mad lion awakened once more.
Relying on the Punishnt Hall's deep reserves and that reckless ferocity in his bones, he forcibly mustered seventy to eighty percent of his combat power.
Against his opponent, he still refused to defend or retreat. Using that most primitive, most brutal injury-trading style, he shattered his enemy's psychological defenses and powered his way into the top eight.
anwhile, the top seed Lin Feng and dicine Hall's big sister Lin Xue maintained their despairingly dominant, utterly predictable crushing victories, advancing effortlessly.
As the final matches concluded, the tournant's top eight roster was finalized.
Besides the three seeded players, several previously obscure dark horses—inner disciples like Lin Yan (specializing in Earth Path defense) and Lin Ying (hidden weapon Gu Master)—who had fought their way up through solid fundantals, also claid captain positions.
However, the schedule allowed no ti to breathe.
Just one day later.
The quarterfinals opened to thunderous attention.
All eyes locked onto the lottery Gu controlled by a clan elder on the high platform. The air was thick with unbearable tension.
Everyone prayed they wouldn't collide with those two insurmountable mountains in this round—Lin Feng and Lin Xue.
Ding!
As the lottery Gu spat out two wooden tablets, the referee held them high, channeled Prival Essence to his throat, and announced loudly:
"First Arena!"
"Lin Feng VS... Lin Yan!"
The words had barely landed.
Whoosh—!
The entire arena erupted in disbelieving uproar!
Spectators below buzzed with discussion, countless people lanting the red-haired Punishnt Hall brute's misfortune.
"My heavens... Lin Yan's luck is absolutely abysmal!"
"I know! In the Round of Thirty-Two, he faced the toughest turtle shell, Lin Ze, first thing and barely won with severe injuries. Now he's dragged his wounded body into the top eight, only to slam head-first into the fully recovered, unfathomably deep top seed Lin Feng!"
"What kind of suffering is this? It's like he's gnawing through every hard bone in the tournant by himself!"
On the high platform, the atmosphere was equally delicate.
Punishnt Hall Grand Elder Lin Nuo's face was iron-dark, his beard trembling slightly—clearly furious at this outco, feeling heaven itself was conspiring against their hall.
The Patriarch Lin Cang, seated in the main position, maintained his impassive dignity. Yet this ti, a flash of surprise passed through his eyes as well.
After all, following the last "random lottery" reminder, he truly hadn't engaged in any manipulation this ti.
One could only say Lin Yan's luck was genuinely rock-bottom.
Amid the sighs and exclamations filling the air.
Lin Yan dragged his not-yet-healed body—still carrying a faint scent of blood—step by step onto the green steel rock arena.
Across from him stood Lin Feng, white-robed and ethereal, like an immortal exiled from heaven.
The two faced each other, forming an extrely stark contrast in condition, presence, and attire.
But surprisingly, facing this seemingly insurmountable mountain, Lin Yan's eyes held not the slightest discouragent or cowardice.
Instead, they burned with a blood-chilling, hysterical madness!
"Ha ha ha! Good! Excellent!"
Lin Yan threw back his head in wild laughter, his voice carrying a violence that could tear everything apart.
He pointed at Lin Feng, making no effort to hide the battle lust in his eyes:
"Lin Feng! I've wanted to teach you a lesson for ages! Always putting on that hypocrite act—it makes sick just looking at you! Today, let give you a proper beating!"
"Begin!"
The referee's arm had barely dropped.
Lin Yan skipped all probing. Ignoring the warning aches in his ridians, he squeezed out every drop of Prival Essence from his aperture without reservation.
Boom!
The Explosive Fla Gu and Iron Leaf Gu activated simultaneously.
He instantly transford into a mad lion wreathed in roaring flas, charging at Lin Feng with the desperate montum of mutual destruction.
No defense!
Only offense!
Lin Yan knew clearly his condition was poor. If he tried to engage in attrition warfare against a hexagonal fighter like Lin Feng, he would die without question.
His only chance of victory was to use absolute violence and reckless injury-trading in the shortest possible ti to forcibly shatter Lin Feng's perfect combat rhythm!
"Mad dog."
Facing Lin Yan's unreasonable berserk assault, Lin Feng finally frowned.
He finally abandoned that earlier leisurely stroll deanor. Fine beads of sweat erged on his forehead.
Lin Yan's attacks were too dense! Too heavy!
Bang bang bang bang!
Flaming iron fists carrying scorching heat and razor sharpness crashed against Lin Feng like a violent storm.
Lin Feng was forced to fully activate his Iron Armor Gu. The black-iron sheen flickered under the flas' roasting, groaning under the strain.
Lin Feng was forced to continuously retreat with exquisite footwork, trying to dissipate that terrifying impact. His prized sword couldn't find any angle for attack—it could only block those deadly fire teors.
For a mont, the top seed was actually being pressured by a grievously wounded brute, pushed to the arena's edge!
The entire audience watched slack-jawed, holding their breath.
Yet the gap in foundation ultimately couldn't be fully bridged by madness alone.
After dozens of chaotic exchanges.
Pfft!
Lin Yan suddenly grunted.
Such high-intensity explosive output finally tore open his unhealed penetrating wound completely. Blood instantly dyed his chest crimson. His movents inevitably showed the tiniest hesitation.
His Prival Essence reserves also began falling short.
In that instant.
Lin Feng—who had been forced on the defensive like a spring compressed to its limit—seized this fleeting weakness with razor-sharp precision.
"It's over."
Lin Feng's gaze sharpened. The abundant Prival Essence at his peak, terrifyingly full, suddenly surged like a breaking dam into the tal Rend Gu on his blade.
Defense beca offense!
Hum—!
With a crisp sword cry.
Lin Feng committed fully, no longer retreating. eting Lin Yan's fire punch—now weakened by his injuries—he slashed out with one stroke!
A golden sword energy, incomparably sharp, almost solidified, instantly cleaved through the layers of fire waves.
That edge capable of cutting gold and jade swept away all remaining defense, finally stopping precisely and coldly an inch from Lin Yan's throat.
The chilling sword gleam even sliced off several strands of Lin Yan's red hair from his forehead.
The arena fell deathly silent.
Lin Yan maintained his punching stance, gasping heavily. Blood dripped from his chin onto the green steel rock.
He stared fixedly at the cold blade just an inch from his throat, eyes filled with bitter frustration and defiance.
He knew—if he had been at full strength, if he hadn't been so severely wounded in the first round, this battle absolutely wouldn't have ended so quickly!
But a loss was a loss.
"I... concede."
Lin Yan ground his teeth and forced those three words through clenched jaws.
"Much obliged."
Lin Feng smiled faintly, flicked his wrist, and sheathed his sword. Though his breathing was slightly ragged and several spots on his robe had been scorched, he maintained the composure befitting a great clan's heir.
He even cupped his hands toward Lin Yan, his voice neither too loud nor too soft—just enough for the front rows to hear clearly:
"Senior Brother Lin Yan's valor is unmatched. Had you been at your peak today, I certainly couldn't have won so easily. I admire your fighting spirit."
These words gave Lin Yan a graceful exit while displaying his own magnanimity and humility—once again perfectly harvesting another wave of goodwill.
"First Arena, Lin Feng wins! Advances to the semifinals!"
As the referee's announcent rang out, thunderous applause erupted throughout the venue.
Below the arena, amid the crowded masses.
Lin Mu stood with arms crossed, watching the scene unfold with cold detachnt. He didn't join the cheering. His gaze was as deep as an ancient well.
"Speed limits, Prival Essence depth, defensive counterattack rhythm..."
Lin Mu silently calculated. Through this high-intensity duel that Lin Yan had bought with his life, he had thoroughly mapped out all of Lin Feng's cards and reaction limits.
"Nothing more than this."
Just then, the referee's verdict echoed from the Third Arena as well.
dicine Hall's big sister Lin Xue had also defeated her opponent without surprise, descending from the arena with her white dress spotless.
Lin Mu's gaze swept back and forth between Lin Feng and Lin Xue.
"It seems the top two of this tournant will be these two."
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