The stadium fell silent, thousands of spectators slowly leaving their seats, still savoring Xue Tian’s astonishing blade work as they stood erect, welcoming Brooks.
His defeat was lightning-fast, yet Brooks showed no discernible joy or sorrow; his hazy, clouded eyes held a distinct air of being barely awake.
Yang Lie faced him with a faint, shallow smile; Brooks’ defeat seemed not to have disturbed the core of his martial spirit.
“It’s your turn,” Brooks smiled broadly. “I was lucky to face Xue Tian. His blade planed away the sharp edges of my arrogance. Though I lost, it propelled me further along the martial path.”
Yang Lie nodded, then lifted his chin high, a soft sigh escaping him carrying a thread of regret: “What a pity... truly a shame... If it were you now, perhaps you wouldn't have lost.”
“Nothing to regret,” Brooks plopped heavily back into his seat. “I still thank the Nu Zhan Xue Tian. That one cut certainly earned the title of ‘Raging Slash’.”
“Raging Slash?” Yang Lie chuckled, shaking his head gently. “You are mistaken. You only saw Xue Tian, not the Nu Zhan Xue Tian. ‘Raging Slash’ is not just his title, nor just the ultimate move of his blade—it is also a state.”
What! Brooks’ eyes widened in shock; he mechanically twisted his neck to look at Xue Tian, standing not far away. The East Asian rookie who had won so decisively had not even been using his peak strength?
Yang Lie heard his name called over the loudspeaker and strode toward the arena.
“Little Dragon King,” Brooks called out softly. Yang Lie paused, turning back to look at his usual fierce competitor.
“Go get ‘em,” Brooks clenched his fist slightly. “You’re all the Americas have left. I entrust my glory to you.”
“I will,” Yang Lie’s smile carried an inexplicable, tragic grandeur. The mighty Three Heroes of the Americas’ rookies—the champion team of rookies from every previous rookie competition—was now down to its single remaining member capable of challenging for the championship before the quarter-finals were even complete.
“Yang Lie!” Dozens of American rookies, regardless of their events, suddenly stood and roared, “Victory!”
Victory? Yang Lie, his back to the assembled American rookies, raised his clenched right arm high in the air, swaying it gently. A surge of bold spirit mixed with his slightly lonely silhouette was imprinted upon the onlookers’ sightlines.
In the East Asian rookie section, Chen Feiyu sat bare-chested, long white bandages tightly wrapped around his fists, resting them simply on his knees. His slender eyes were calmly closed, the entire person seemingly asleep, giving off no discernible aura whatsoever.
“Please welcome Chen Feiyu, rookie from East Asia…”
In an instant, Qin Fen felt the sleeping tiger beside him awaken.
His eyes snapped open, crackling with electric light; the killing intent stored within his body erupted like an uncorked barrel.
The surrounding martial artists instantly tensed, instinctively bracing themselves and looking toward Chen Feiyu.
Yang Lie’s eyes jumped. This opponent was truly different from the other rookies; his killing intent carried a thick scent of blood. Under the shroud of that murderous aura, it seemed one could almost hear the sorrowful shrieks of departed souls beneath his fists and feet.
Bai Sheng was even more astonished. This middle-aged man, looking barely over thirty, wasn't particularly strong, but his sheer killing aura was truly staggering!
Chen Feiyu rose and walked into the arena with great strides. His speed did not appear fast, nor was there any earth-shattering momentum, yet not a single person dared to treat him lightly.
Reaching the center of the ring, Chen Feiyu followed the custom of Black Boxing, executing a sharp, concise bow with his fists and simply stating, “Chen Feiyu.”
Yang Lie instinctively raised his hand in a reciprocal bow: “Yang Lie.”
After the simple self-introductions, the two exchanged no further pleasantries and immediately established their combat stances, neither showing an ounce of courtesy.
The moment the match bell sounded, Yang Lie moved, striking first!
He would not underestimate Chen Feiyu in the slightest, nor would he feel the least bit timid.
Executing the Dragon Form movement technique in a flash of speed, he whipped his shoulder, sending his sleeve straight toward Chen Feiyu’s face, yet the shadow of a fist was completely unseen—truly like a mythical dragon showing its head but concealing its tail. There was no arm within the sleeve!
The American military uniforms were relatively loose, and the sleeves of this uniform were especially voluminous. As it whipped through the air, the sound it made was like a huge, stiff piece of rawhide snapping violently.
The sleeve struck toward the face in an instant. Chen Feiyu’s pupils flashed with sharp light; he saw a dark shadow suddenly surge out from the empty sleeve, which seemed capable of shattering one’s face, like a black dragon bursting forth from thunderclouds.
Qin Fen’s body subtly shook. This was the Cloud Dragon Emergence from the Azure Dragon Fist! No wonder he earned the title 'Little Dragon King.' The essence of this Dragon Fist technique was something even many Eight-Star martial artists could not manifest. He was stronger than Kai Tian Brooks!
Yang Lie’s attack maintained its extension, seemingly still outside his effective striking range, yet it had already penetrated into his true striking zone. The force of the rushing wind made Chen Feiyu’s cheeks and eyebrows tremble slightly.
Qin Fen knew that Yang Lie’s Azure Dragon Fist had reached a certain level of mastery; it was no longer just mimicking the dragon's form with hands—it had reached the stage where his fists and feet, his entire limbs, were the dragon! The hand was the Lesser Dragon, the body the Great Dragon!
Qin Fen knew that even if he used the Azure Dragon Fist himself, he might not be able to execute this Cloud Dragon Emergence attack any better than the Little Dragon King.
Bang! Bang! Chen Feiyu did not dodge. His palm sliced horizontally like a blade, immediately intercepting Yang Lie’s dragon fist. Two fierce forces collided, producing the sound of hard objects striking.
Palm met fist, and both drew their arms back like lightning. Almost simultaneously, they lifted their calves, kicking out at an extremely tight angle. Their trousers collided with a deafening, booming resonance.
This exchange was not merely a blunt confrontation. Yang Lie’s Azure Dragon Coiling technique involved a rapid rotation of his leg bone against Chen Feiyu’s leg bone upon impact, like a gigantic grinding mill—this was the follow-up to his Azure Dragon Coiling!
Normally, when two forces collide, Zhenqi concentrates at a single point for explosion! The greatest strength of the Azure Dragon Coiling was that immediately after the initial impact, it would grind against the relatively weaker areas of the opponent's leg Zhenqi.
Whoosh! A sharp sound of an object breaking through the air suddenly erupted. The powerful air pressure blew against Yang Lie’s face as Chen Feiyu’s head slammed toward him like a massive iron hammer.
Mutual destruction? Yang Lie sighed internally. He eased the power he was applying to his coiling lower leg, his left leg pushing off the ground to spring backward ten meters, evading Chen Feiyu’s headbutt.
“This man must have fought in death matches! The momentum of that headbutt was absolutely top-tier!” Yang Lie felt the danger retreat, transforming his posture into that of the Azure Dragon, retreating another twenty meters in succession.
Chen Feiyu did not pursue, merely tilting his neck back slightly: “Still holding back?”
“No,”
Yang Lie gave a slight shake of his shoulders and lowered his body slightly. He maintained a dragon posture, but it was not the Dragon Form publicly released by the Federation—it gave the impression of a coiled giant dragon.
What is this? Qin Fen’s eyebrows rose, his eyes gleaming with the light of finding a worthy opponent. As a fellow practitioner of Dragon Form martial arts, although Yang Lie’s stance resembled Coiled Dragon Fist, it was not the true style; it subtly incorporated shadows of the Fire Dragon Fist, Metal Dragon Fist, Azure Dragon Fist, and Black Dragon Fist—a total of five Dragon Fists!
“I must win this match,” Yang Lie said slowly. “I will stand before Qin Fen and strike him down from the peak of rookie martial artists! Therefore, please accept my Five Dragon Fist.”
“Take down Qin Fen?” Chen Feiyu’s peripheral vision flickered toward Qin Fen. The fighting stance he had adopted slowly retracted, and he raised his right hand toward the referee’s stand, saying, “I concede.”
What? The referee froze, the audience froze, even Yang Lie was stunned. What was wrong with this evenly matched opponent? Why suddenly forfeit? Why?
Yang Lie stared intently at Chen Feiyu’s retreating back as he left the arena. This man who fought in death matches, the moment his Five Dragon Fist stance opened, Yang Lie could feel his fighting intent surge with eagerness—how could he concede?
“You…” Qin Fen looked at Chen Feiyu, who had returned to his seat, his tone carrying a hint of persuasion: “There was no need for that.”
“It’s nothing,” Chen Feiyu shook his head slowly, a satisfied smile on his face. “This result is respectable enough for some military merit; obtaining citizenship is enough for me. Since you like it, I won’t compete with you for it.”
Qin Fen sighed. Chen Feiyu caught the light of finding a worthy opponent in his eyes, but that discovery had caused Chen Feiyu to forfeit. This was not Qin Fen’s intention, but now it was too late to say anything.
“Qin Fen,” Chen Feiyu’s eyes were full of happiness. “You gave me a new life, you gave me everything. In this life, unless I have the chance to personally execute my enemy, I will not fight you for anything else. As long as you like it, I will give it up; as long as you want it, I will fight to snatch it for you.”
Qin Fen said nothing more; he looked up at the approaching Yang Lie.
“I don’t know the true reason for your sudden forfeiture, but it seems connected to Qin Fen now,” Yang Lie looked directly into Chen Feiyu’s contented eyes. “I can feel that you wanted to fight me! Since you forfeited, I hope we can have a rematch after the Rookie Competition ends! Your withdrawal has made me very unhappy!”
“Gladly,” Chen Feiyu rested his right leg over his left, interlocking his fingers and looking up at Yang Lie. “If you haven't been beaten into the hospital by Qin Fen, I’d be happy to oblige.”
“Don’t worry,” Qin Fen gave Chen Feiyu a reassuring glance. “I’ll hold back. You will definitely have a chance to fight him.”
Yang Lie watched Qin Fen calmly. Being viewed from above by this martial artist—who possessed Eight-Star strength and currently stood at the apex of all rookies in the competition—was incredibly irritating.
“Irritated?” Qin Fen did not look up, his gaze casually fixed on the arena. “If you want to challenge me, you first need to stand at the summit. Otherwise, you are not qualified.”
“I will be,” Yang Lie’s eyes narrowed into thin slits. “I absolutely will be.”
“Please welcome Qin Fen, rookie from East Asia…”
Dong!
Yang Lie’s body flickered; the ground beneath his feet vibrated violently, as if a mountain had just collapsed during an earthquake, or perhaps a large-caliber field cannon had suddenly fired, creating an immense recoil force.
His American uniform suddenly felt a powerful gust of wind sweep past it, creating a loud whoosh. Qin Fen's figure vanished from his seat in an instant; only a green silhouette could be seen, hurtling out like a cannonball.
Immediately afterward, Yang Lie saw that the concrete floor within a nearly one-meter radius beneath where Qin Fen had stepped was violently overturned in large patches, as if detonated by small infantry mines.
One step, thirty meters!
Dong!
Another stomp. Near this footfall, microphones were scattered, and as the sound transmitted through the speakers, everyone felt a clap of thunder explode right next to their ears, their blood and Qi becoming unsettled and suppressed.
On the projection screen, Qin Fen’s image was merely a blur of green outline; the whistling sound created by his uniform rubbing against the air resembled the shriek of a dive bomber suddenly plunging downward.
People stared blankly at Qin Fen standing in the center of the ring. He had not transformed into the giant, ape-like body of legend, yet an imposing aura that suppressed the heart was subtly radiating from him.
At this moment, one thought flashed through everyone’s mind.
Qin Fen has recovered... His arm has recovered! Otherwise, he wouldn't dare generate such powerful ground vibrations; he wouldn't be so careless with his injury!
Qin Fen has recovered! That young man who previously displayed Eight-Star strength had now recovered his physical body. He was truly standing at the pinnacle of the martial artists in the Rookie Competition.
The Eight-Star Qin Fen without injuries possessed a battlefield dominance that the injured version could never match!
Yang Lie’s eyes flickered repeatedly. This time, the majesty was far stronger than before! Qin Fen was issuing a demonstration, once again showcasing his unparalleled, supreme strength to every rookie who dared to challenge him.
In just two steps, the rookie participant seating area fell into stunned silence. People exchanged glances—was Qin Fen truly unbeatable? Just standing there imposed immense psychological pressure on every participating rookie.
Bai Sheng excitedly clenched both fists, his body trembling slightly. The gamble taken yesterday... it was worth it! Eight-Star wasn't everything; that fierce aura was what was truly worth anticipating.
“Jiajia, your man is really fired up,” Lin Liqiang grinned proudly. “It looks like your chances of becoming Mrs. Qin are growing larger.”
“Oh?” Song Jia’s cheeks flushed slightly, and her eyes held even more surprise. “Was that kick I just saw an illusion? Why did I vaguely sense something familiar? It felt like Old Butler’s Da Fan Palm.”
“Haha, I made a bet with the Old Butler and won it. So I had a casual sparring session with Old Qin, and I didn’t expect him to integrate it into his fighting so quickly,” Lin Liqiang winked suggestively at Song Jia. “Jiajia, I risked getting spanked by your grandfather to spar with Old Qin. How are you going to thank me?”
“Well…” Song Jia’s cheeks grew redder, and she looked at her childhood friend with a touch of emotion. “You don’t seem to lack anything.”
“That’s true…” Lin Liqiang sighed. “I’m genuinely envious of Qin Fen. To achieve whatever he wants through his own efforts—that feeling must be incredible.”
Qin Fen stood quietly. He didn't need to speak; just sweeping his gaze over the crowd generated the aura of a peak master.
“Lin Ling, rookie from East Asia, forfeits…”
The loudspeaker announced news that stunned everyone.
Lin Ling forfeits? Why?
Caesar and Yang Lie immediately turned their heads toward Lin Ling, who was sitting quietly on the sidelines with no intention of taking the stage, her face completely expressionless.
This woman, whose strength was as mysterious as Xue Tian’s, had just forfeited without even stepping up?
Compared to Xue Tian, Caesar was even more wary of Lin Ling. The lack of expression on her face was not feigned; her pupils held absolutely no emotion!
A person who can truly disregard everything cannot know what fear is!
Qin Fen’s demon-king-like strength might increase psychological pressure on other rookies, but it would not add the slightest bit of pressure to this woman.
Qin Fen stared at Lin Ling in confusion. Why forfeit?
Many people asked the same question internally—how could she just quit like that?
Winning without a fight, Qin Fen walked before Lin Ling.
The two met gazes. Lin Ling, this willful woman who never explained herself to anyone, said faintly under Qin Fen’s scrutiny: “I received orders from above to forfeit.”
Orders from above? Qin Fen was stunned. This answer was too unexpected; it came directly from the East Asian Military Region command.
After speaking, on Lin Ling’s face, which was beautiful yet expressionless, her eyebrows drew infinitesimally closer together, a movement almost imperceptible to the common eye, before instantly separating again—as if she was wondering why she needed to explain so much to Qin Fen.
Qin Fen captured that momentary expression, and the shock in his heart intensified. This woman actually displayed an expression! That expression was not merely mimicry as before! The expression just now carried genuine emotion; she was truly curious.
“What are you curious about?” Qin Fen sat down beside Lin Ling. He couldn't let this opportunity pass. Lin Ling’s demeanor always managed to surpass his own psychological understanding of calm, even that of the squad leader. If he could glean some experience from this, perhaps he could deceive the squad leader.
“Curious why I explained it to you.”
Lin Ling returned to her usual coldness, her voice sounding like a rehearsed response.
“Curious why I explained it to you?” Qin Fen found it hard to understand Lin Ling’s curiosity. “We have experienced life-and-death battles together; we are comrades-in-arms.”
“Even comrades-in-arms don't require explanations.”
Lin Ling shook her head, and though she showed no expression, she conveyed her disagreement.
“Then why?”
Qin Fen’s counter-question made Lin Ling appear somewhat bewildered, though her mouth did not stop: “I don’t know.”
Don’t know? Qin Fen smiled. Lin Ling actually said "I don't know"? This was also a form of progress.
The commentators, having recovered their composure, began to discuss enthusiastically again.
“Lin Ling forfeiting is very strange!”
“Perhaps East Asia feared the two would fight each other to mutual destruction?”
“Possible! If Lin Ling is the most mysterious competitor in this tournament, she might actually possess the strength to counter Qin Fen. If they engaged in a death match, it would only benefit the other sectors.”
Many people nodded in agreement with this speculation, but Qin Fen felt a strange sensation, as if beneath Lin Ling’s expressionless face, she was conveying: That’s not it.