"I! Will stand at the summit, awaiting your challenges!" A declaration brimming with soaring ambition shot straight into the heavens. As the loudspeaker echoed endlessly in the vast center of the stadium, it vibrated in the deepest recesses of the souls of every contestant, every spectator. Eight-star! Eight-star!

In the moment when a continuous stream of new seven-star martial artists had already stirred excitement that had yet to settle, Qin Fen! This rookie, who had been like a towering steamroller, flattening everything in his path since the start of the competition, finally unleashed the true strength hidden within his body—the strength that had spurred countless speculations.

The commentators were all stunned silent. According to the information provided by the organizing committee, in the history of the rookie martial arts competition, an eight-star martial artist had never appeared.

Qin Fen, after successively setting multiple records in the rookie competition, had now set a new record in the martial arts event—the centerpiece of the competition.

"I! Will stand at the peak, awaiting your battles!"

Yang Lie chewed on Qin Fen's boast of looking down on the masses, staring intently at Qin Fen, who hadn't immediately left the martial field.

Yang Lie's eye twitched slightly. With the blossoming of his eight-star strength, Qin Fen's words were no longer mere arrogance. He possessed the absolute right to utter such a statement.

Caesar's palms slid back and forth across the armrests, his dual pupils fixed on Qin Fen’s hands. True Qi vibrated on his palms—a sight far more terrifying than an eight-star martial artist's raw power.

Even with the outward release of shockwaves from his True Qi, it was uncertain if he could leave a palm print on a five-star-strength, Steel War Body using the impact of a two-star martial artist.

"Eight-star strength, True Qi vibrating outward," Caesar leaned his straightened back against the chair. "No wonder he dared to shout about standing at the peak awaiting challenges while injured."

The American rookie, bearing a palm print on his chest, stared blankly at Qin Fen. The rookie martial arts competition had always been a process of competition among participants; never before had someone almost claimed the championship before the fighting even began.

Unknowingly, a fierce contest had been orchestrated by Qin Fen into a challenge match.

He! Was the Demon King residing in the Great Demon Hall—the one standing at the peak! All other contestants instantly transformed into challengers daring to fight the Great Demon King!

Many spectators watched the line of Qin Fen's overwhelming strength in the arena with incomprehension. Wasn't establishing such a high benchmark meant to inspire other rookie contestants to push themselves to break through? What benefit was there to him? If the goal was to establish dominance and crush the fighting spirit of the other rookies, that calculation had clearly gone astray.

"I..." Qin Fen raised his head and surveyed the tens of thousands of spectators. His flat tone could not conceal the soaring heroism in his voice. "I hope to meet an opponent here who can force me to fight with all my might, rather than winning the championship in mundane fashion."

Yang Lie's body shook, and his eyes, fixed on Qin Fen, grew complex.

Caesar rose and turned to walk toward the stadium exit. The subsequent battles hardly mattered now. The ultimate opponent for this entire competition was likely to be Qin Fen. This man wasn't just terrifying in strength; what was most frightening was that he possessed a heart hungry for challenge. To become truly powerful, one must possess a spirit that dares to accept any head-on challenge! Those who hide their strength and skulk in the shadows might stand on the champion's throne, but they could never become true powerhouses!

Yang Lie glanced at Qin Fen, rose, and started walking toward the exit of the stadium. "Qin Fen not only has a heart that dares to accept challenges, but he also possesses a heart that yearns to surpass himself. Eight-star? This tournament holds no real difficulty for him anymore. He actually dared to expose his strength to spur his opponents to fight? Excellent! That sheer spirit alone is worthy of admiration."

Standing at the exit, Yang Lie turned back to look at Qin Fen on the martial field. "You are at the peak, so surpass the peak!"

"Eight-star? So what? The American rookies will never admit defeat! We will absolutely not concede to you, Qin Fen, again!"

A roar filled with fighting spirit echoed across the stadium. The stubborn American rookie stared at Qin Fen, kicking up a visible cloud of dust from the ground with an aggressive stance reminiscent of American football players.

"Your fighting spirit is commendable."

Qin Fen's words echoed in the American rookie's ears. His body had already floated high off the ground, leaving a palm print on his chest even clearer than the previous one. He crashed heavily onto the ground ten meters away.

"Unfortunately, the gap in strength is too vast," Qin Fen slightly shook his head, looking at his left palm. "It seems the shockwave effect is more closely related to control. The shockwave from a five-star strike was only about twice as powerful as a two-star strike."

The American rookie stared blankly at Qin Fen. Shockwave? What was that? Was it the instantaneous impact vibration created hundreds of times the moment Qin Fen touched him? How was that done? Was that single strike truly only five-star strength?

"Referee," Qin Fen turned his head toward the referee stand. "Aren't you going to start the countdown?"

The countdown on the referee stand immediately sounded. Qin Fen turned slightly to face Moradecheck, whose face was red with suppressed anger, and lightly shook his index finger. "The current you cannot defeat me."

Moradecheck sprang up like a coil, left his seat, and glared at Qin Fen, snorting coldly through his nose before turning and walking toward the stadium exit.

Qin Fen was different from some eight-star martial artists; his precise control over his immense power represented the pinnacle level of this year's rookie contestants. The shockwave effect of projecting True Qi outward! This single technique almost eliminated any thought a weaker martial artist might have of defeating a stronger one through cunning. Without comparable strength, there was almost no point in fighting! Unless, of course, one originated from the [Saint Martial Hall] and possessed one of the world's truly top-tier ultimate skills, only then might it be possible to overcome the astonishingly powerful Qin Fen.

"Qin Fen from East Asia wins, advancing to the top thirty-two..."

The result, already known to everyone, echoed through the loudspeakers. Qin Fen bowed in martial etiquette to all directions and walked briskly off the martial field.

"Old Qin, not bad!" Xue Tian clapped Qin Fen on the shoulder. "As expected of the man I favored. Looks like I really can't beat you anymore."

Qin Fen smiled. Back on the ship, facing Squad Leader Hao, he could discern some of his strength. Yet, facing Xue Tian, he couldn't see through him at all—was there even stronger power beyond his seven-star level?

"You're already eight-star, eh~" Xue Tian dragged out his words. "Looks like I need to buy some stock in you too, just in case I lose money."

"Is that so?" Qin Fen glanced sideways at Xue Tian beside him. Given this man's terrifying martial arts talent, who could know if he had truly exerted his full strength just now, or if he was still hiding his power?

After a brief exchange, Xing Wuyi had already walked down from the martial field. His opponent was currently being carried away by the medical team to the recovery center.

Soon, on the contestant stage, all the winning rookies, except for Qin Fen and Xue Tian, left the spectator seats hastily without staying to watch the remaining battles. There was little point in continuing to watch. The true apex right now was Qin Fen! If they couldn't break through to eight-star before meeting him again, there was little point in fighting at all.

"Heavens! The East Asian division is too shameless, resorting to any means necessary to win?"

"Exactly! Sending a thirty-year-old to fight in the rookie competition!"

"Even if his status is technically a rookie, this is too disgraceful! Thirty years old and only just joining the army? Didn't East Asia already have the monster Qin Fen? Why send a thirty-year-old martial artist as well?"

Chen Feiyu, clad in his uniform, his hands wrapped in white bandages, stood silently watching his opponent, seemingly not hearing the words of extreme sarcasm and ridicule.

A wave of murmuring discussion rippled through the audience stands. Was the East Asian Military Region planning to break every record, good or bad, in this new competition? This East Asian rookie was probably the oldest rookie in the history of the competition—thirty years old? The spectators shook their heads. That age meant he had already passed the first period of rapid strength growth! A thirty-year-old martial artist, if reasonably gifted, might not even be incapable of reaching ten stars!

If he was ten-star? The spectators exchanged glances, their inner thoughts simultaneously cursing: The East Asian Military Region was truly too shameless just to secure the championship!

Military enthusiasts focused intently on Chen Feiyu. Many of these enthusiasts were veterans, some even having participated in actual combat missions. They sensed a cold aura emanating from Chen Feiyu, entirely different from Qin Fen's imposing dominance while looking down on the masses from the peak. This man was like a wolf—a wounded wolf! His bandaged fists were the wolf's sharpest claws and fangs, capable of easily tearing an enemy's body apart!

The African rookie stared at Chen Feiyu cautiously. Any rookie who could fight their way into the top thirty-two was certainly no fool on the path of martial arts. He could clearly sense the danger emanating from Chen Feiyu—a scent of blood and death mixed within it.

The bell for the match suddenly rang.

Chen Feiyu's relaxed fingers suddenly clenched tightly, the air cracking audibly under the pressure of his grip. A surge of seven-star True Qi scattered outward from his body.

"Goodness! Another star-level martial artist!"

The tens of thousands in the audience erupted in noise again. After the appearance of an eight-star martial artist, the only reason a seven-star martial artist could still cause such an uproar was if that seven-star's next opponent was also a seven-star!

That was correct! From the moment the non-East Asian rookie in front of Chen Feiyu automatically conceded, the opponent for this match had already been decided: The Little Dragon King Yang Lie from East Asia, hailed as the top soldier among the American rookies!

At around thirty years old, possessing only seven-star strength did not lead all spectators to look down on Chen Feiyu. On the contrary, martial artists with stronger fighting intuition saw the terrifying nature of Chen Feiyu. Although this man was only seven-star, his combat stance appeared incredibly rich with experience. That casual stance just now was far more logical than any preceding seven-star martial artist—it was the posture of someone ready to mobilize one hundred percent of their strength at any moment.

Indeed, that was not merely a fighting stance; it was the optimal posture for life-and-death combat.

Today, a friend finally arrived to drive away his father-in-law's broken-down, now-repaired car. Gao Lou hadn't seen him in a long time, so they ate dinner and chatted. When he returned home, he saw Heart Expedition airing on CCTV-6. Gao Lou was captivated. It was truly passionate, making Gao Lou beam with pride. A story with no overt combat could be so fiery; he truly admired the scriptwriter. If anyone is interested, you should watch it. Unlike previous American dramas about "I must save the world!" the line that moved him most was: "I am not trying to save the world; I am merely trying to save my wife and my two children." No longer an image of perfect righteousness, but a human being of flesh and blood. Gao Lou was completely engrossed.