Steffan, save
"Steffan, save ."
Lucas’s hoarse cry echoed through the battered martial arts arena, filled with desperation and humiliation.
The night wind swept through the ruined grounds of the Lockheart Martial Arts Hall, carrying the thick scent of blood through the air. Broken tiles crunched beneath countless feet. Cracks spread across the arena floor like spiderwebs, stained dark crimson beneath the cold moonlight.
The man called Steffan rely cast a cold glance at him.
That single glance felt colder than winter frost.
Lucas’s body trembled uncontrollably. His face instantly paled as if a bucket of ice water had been poured over him. Even with several ribs broken and blood soaking his clothes, he still forced himself to struggle upright from the ground.
As a mber of the Obsidian Wing organization, lying there like a dying stray dog in front of so many Old Martial Arts experts was a disgrace he could not accept.
He staggered to his feet while clutching his chest, lowering his head slightly toward Steffan with visible fear in his eyes.
The entire arena fell into dead silence.
Even the groans of the injured seed to vanish.
"Steffan?"
Hearing Lucas call out that na, everyone finally realized the terrifying masked man had co here specifically to rescue him.
Imdiately, countless gazes sharpened with vigilance.
The surviving experts instinctively circulated their true energy. So tightened their grips on their weapons while others slowly spread apart, preparing to surround the newcor.
Tonight, nearly the entire Old Martial Arts world of Valemont had gathered here.
If soone dared walk into this place alone to rescue Lucas, then he either had a death wish...
Or strength terrifying enough to crush everyone present.
The night air suddenly felt heavier.
Yana Tyson narrowed her bright orange eyes as she stared at Steffan. Her injured body still ached from the earlier battle, blood faintly staining the corner of her lips, yet the danger radiating from this man caused even her instincts to scream warnings.
This pressure...
It was suffocating.
Far beyond Silver Realm.
Even her father at his peak had never carried such terrifying oppression.
The surrounding Old Martial Arts experts also noticed it. Many subconsciously took half a step backward.
Seeing the group clearly intent on stopping him, the man called Steffan spoke coldly.
"Those who block , die!"
His voice was calm.
Not loud.
Yet the mont the words fell, the atmosphere froze solid.
There was no arrogance in his tone.
Only certainty.
As though he were rely stating an undeniable fact.
The faces of several experts instantly darkened.
An old Silver Realm expert in a gray martial robe clenched his fists tightly. Veins bulged beneath his aged skin as he stepped forward with a grave expression.
He knew this person was absolutely extraordinary.
But if they allowed Lucas to leave tonight after all that had happened, then the entire Valemont Old Martial Arts world would beco a laughingstock.
He gritted his teeth and shouted,
"All together now!"
The old man stomped forward first, his robe fluttering violently as true energy erupted around his body. Several Silver Realm experts behind him imdiately followed.
The group attacked simultaneously from different angles.
Palm strikes.
Fists.
Leg techniques.
A sword slash aid directly at Steffan’s throat.
The attacks tore through the air with sharp explosive sounds.
Yet Steffan did not move.
At least... to most people’s eyes, he didn’t.
Before anyone could clearly see his movents, the old man leading the charge was already lying on the ground.
Bang!
His body smashed into the arena floor heavily.
His chest had completely caved inward.
Bones protruded through flesh.
Blood spread beneath him rapidly.
The old man’s body twitched several tis before going completely still.
Dead.
Instantly dead.
The entire arena turned silent.
Everyone’s pupils shrank violently.
Even the remaining Silver Realm experts who had rushed forward froze in place midway, their faces turning deathly pale.
No one had seen clearly what happened.
Too fast.
It was simply too fast.
One move.
A single move had instantly killed a Silver Realm expert.
Cold sweat imdiately drenched everyone’s backs.
"This..."
"How is this possible?"
"He killed Elder Moran instantly..."
A trembling voice sounded from sowhere in the crowd.
Fear spread rapidly like poison.
Even Yana Tyson’s breathing beca slightly unstable.
This kind of strength...
This was absolutely not soone in the Silver Realm.
This guy was definitely a Gold Realm expert!
As for which level of the Gold Realm...
No one could tell.
That uncertainty made him even more terrifying.
Yana bit her lower lip hard until a faint trace of blood appeared.
The aura Steffan released was monstrous.
Heavy.
Violent.
Like standing before a blood-soaked mountain of corpses.
At least mid-level Gold Realm.
Maybe even higher.
Lucas, who had been trembling monts earlier, finally revealed excitent in his eyes again.
He lowered his head respectfully toward Steffan, secretly rejoicing inside.
As expected of the Martial Art King of Africa.
As long as Steffan had arrived tonight...
Everyone here would die.
After stepping onto the arena, Steffan slowly swept his gaze across the crowd.
Those black eyes hidden beneath the sinister ghost mask were indifferent, almost bored.
"So this," he said slowly, "is the Old Martial Arts world of Valemont?"
His voice echoed softly across the arena.
"Noisy insects gathered together pretending to be strong."
The surrounding experts instantly looked furious.
Yet no one dared move first anymore.
The corpse lying nearby was the best warning possible.
Steffan looked at them one by one like a ruler examining livestock.
Aside from their numbers, there truly wasn’t much worth admiring.
Weak.
Too weak.
Still...
He did need so pawns to handle future affairs.
Especially now that the Obsidian Wing organization was beginning to move in the shadows once more.
His cold voice sounded again.
"I’ll give you a choice."
He slowly raised one hand.
"Pledge allegiance to ... or die!"
The words exploded like thunder in everyone’s minds.
For a mont, many even suspected they had heard wrong.
Allegiance to him?
Who the hell was he?
Even if he were a Gold Realm expert, did he really think he could force the entire Valemont Old Martial Arts world to kneel?
The atmosphere instantly turned tense.
So people looked fearful.
So looked enraged.
Others hesitated silently.
A middle-aged man wearing a black martial robe finally couldn’t endure the humiliation anymore. Veins bulged across his forehead as he pointed furiously at Steffan and shouted,
"Are you crazy? Why should we pledge allegiance to you? Even if you—"
Before he could finish speaking...
Steffan disappeared.
No.
To be precise—
His speed was so terrifying that nobody could follow it.
A gust of violent wind exploded across the arena.
The next second, Steffan had already appeared directly in front of the middle-aged man.
The man’s eyes widened in horror.
Too fast.
He couldn’t even react.
Steffan threw a single punch casually.
Bang!!!
The middle-aged man’s head exploded like a smashed waterlon.
Blood, bone fragnts, and flesh scattered across the arena floor.
His headless corpse remained standing for half a second before collapsing heavily onto the ground.
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