The East Asian newcomers, having the highest number of advancing competitors into the final eight, saw their once formidable roster shrink significantly, leaving only sixteen.

The crowd looked at Xue Tian, seated next to Qin Fen. These two East Asian newcomers, one in the upper bracket and one in the lower, might just meet in the finals.

The loudspeaker crackled to life again. Caesar rose with perfect composure, hands lightly clasped behind his back, and stepped onto the arena floor. His movements lacked any sense of haste or exertion, akin to a leisurely stroll.

The audience was astonished. After Qin Fen had just displayed power nearing the absolute peak of the newcomer tournament, Caesar from Europe still moved as if taking a casual walk. Beneath his Seven-Star strength, an aura of transcendence subtly radiated—the very presence only achievable by one standing at the apex.

If Qin Fen's aura was one of unparalleled martial heroism, Caesar’s was that of an unshaken king, indifferent to glory or shame.

The Emperor! At this moment, the title of Caesar echoed in everyone's minds once more!

Bai Sheng nodded slightly, his eyes full of approval. Caesar indeed possessed the heart of a king. If he had been born in ancient Europe, perhaps he truly could have forged legendary feats, much like the invincible Emperor Caesar of European history.

"Please, the newcomer from West Asia..."

Moraddek shot up like a steel blade, his crimson spear already leveled in his grip. His pace wasn't fast either. Qin Fen’s previous explosive burst was momentarily insurmountable; no one would attempt a rapid charge immediately after Qin Fen’s high-speed train-like advance; that would only serve to be a stepping stone for Qin Fen.

Moraddek moved slowly, yet his presence lacked any sense of a relaxed amble. His eyes, filled with profound hatred, were locked onto Qin Fen, completely ignoring Caesar, his actual opponent for this match.

This newcomer tournament had seen too many upsets. People were gradually growing accustomed to watching the matches in quiet focus, rather than screaming cheers of excitement. Such restraint often ensured they didn't miss the most breathtaking combat. No one wished to miss a tournament of this caliber; its brilliance was fast approaching that of the most elite competitions among the younger generation at the Gathering of Heroes.

Moraddek finally pulled his gaze from Qin Fen and shifted it toward his opponent, Caesar.

Caesar quietly appraised Moraddek. This man possessed eyes brimming with hatred, a hatred that had solidified into unyielding willpower. His great spear wasn't particularly thick, but it was certainly long enough.

Held in his hands, the blood-red spear resembled a legendary crimson dragon. The spearhead and shaft were one continuous piece, and a faint red light bloomed from it—clearly not mere red paint, but forged from the unique Crimson-Vein Steel exclusive to Mars.

A faint glimmer of appreciation flashed in Caesar’s eyes. Truly, a fine weapon! In the hands of this man, the spear immediately imparted an oppressive aura saturated with killing intent.

A million soldiers, one man with a single spear, piercing seven ranks deep! Wherever the spear tip pointed, souls perished! The vermilion spear held by Moraddek evoked images of chaotic ancient battlefields and the presence of a renowned general.

The match bell had not yet sounded, but Moraddek felt Caesar's appreciative gaze. His eyes instantly sharpened with cold intensity. Even those watching the broadcast on the massive screens felt a bone-chilling coldness.

Caesar’s expression remained unchanged. His hands did not ready themselves as the bell approached; he simply stood there quietly, the appreciation in his eyes for Moraddek increasing by a degree.

Appreciation again? Moraddek’s eyes hardened by another fraction of intensity. This appreciation felt like that of an elder toward a junior! It was a condescending appreciation! He had witnessed this very look once before, back in Qinghai—it was the light that had shone in Qin Fen’s eyes.

He detested that look; Caesar's gaze deeply wounded his pride.

The match bell rang. Moraddek’s shoulders twitched suddenly, his hands quivered slightly, and the heavy spear in his grip produced the distinct 'whirring' sound only generated by a projectile weapon traveling at long distances with substantial force. The red spear arced like a flood dragon, slicing through the air with a piercing, shrieking crimson glare, enveloping Caesar’s upper, middle, and lower paths.

The spear tip swayed erratically with the shaft's elasticity; every point seemed to be truly exerting force, yet every point also seemed to be feigning exertion, making it difficult to discern the true killing thrust.

Great Spear Piercing Armor! This technique was said to be mastered only by the greatest generals of ancient warfare!

Moraddek's full-power strike from his Seven-Star ability was far more ferocious than that of many famed generals on ancient battlefields. If this spear landed true, even if Caesar wore Dragon Scale Armor, the result would be a transparent hole through his gear.

Against such a rapid, dragon-like thrust, the best strategy was evasion! To first avoid that serpent-tongue-like lunge!

However, the younger martial artists, including Yang Lie, were keenly aware that this Crimson-Vein Steel possessed extreme elasticity. If one dodged this strike, they would concede a fraction of momentum, inadvertently boosting Moraddek's morale, allowing him to unleash his spear further, turning his offense into wave after wave, like a divine dragon entering the sea.

As countless spectators speculated whether Caesar would dodge, a group of young women from various continents fixed their eyes forward with unwavering resolve!

Their martial cultivation might not be supreme, but their faith in Caesar was absolute. Since his debut, the "Emperor" Caesar had never lost! Even when facing Qin Fen, these supporters firmly believed Caesar would ultimately prevail.

Invincible and undefeated—that was what defined an Emperor!

Caesar did not even spare a glance for the dazzling spear tip. The eyes could deceive the mind, but the body could not lie. The instant Moraddek moved, Caesar felt the sensation of his left shoulder being locked down by the spear.

This was Caesar’s most cherished martial sense! It was a primary reason why he had never lost, even when facing opponents of superior strength.

Moraddek was powerful, but…

The appreciative light in Caesar’s eyes never diminished. He ignored the crimson spear striking toward him like multiple red snakes, and instead of retreating, he advanced a step. He did not employ any discernible footwork; it was merely an ordinary step forward. His outstretched right hand formed a strange fist shape, which, at first glance, resembled a seal.

Yang Lie’s eyes widened abruptly. This was Caesar’s self-created technique, the "Imperial Fist": The Imperial Seal!

The fist struck like a seal, carrying the weight of an edict being stamped onto a decree! A seemingly ordinary punch, yet it contained the immutable power of an emperor.

A faint surprise crossed Qin Fen’s eyes. This punch… interesting! It carried just a hint of 'I alone am supreme'! Good, very good!

The instant the fist and steel collided, the air vibrated with a sound like two rare cold weapons clashing, ringing out in metallic resonance.

Moraddek’s palm went numb, and the force gripping his shoulder instantly dissipated. He quickly retracted his foot in retreat.

The pressure point had been struck! Swords and blades have pressure points, and so does a long spear! Moraddek’s spear strike had its central force concentrated near the midpoint; if a weapon was not long enough, it would be impossible to reach that specific pressure point.

Yet, Caesar, bare-handed, had struck it, and one punch stopped the spear’s rotation completely, rendering it utterly harmless.

Bai Sheng clapped softly. His praise differed from that of most martial artists. While the punch was astonishing, the single step was the true key to victory.

That seemingly common step was, in reality, not common at all! That step was his walk! Bai Sheng saw only Caesar taking his casual stroll.

All under heaven is the King’s land!

The ground beneath the Emperor’s feet belonged to him; thus, wherever he walked was merely a stroll! Only with such a mindset could he execute that exquisitely perfect step.

With the Imperial Seal clearing the way, Caesar advanced again. His movement resembled a leisurely walk, yet his speed was several points faster than Moraddek’s, whose force had been momentarily disrupted. In an instant, he was before the man who dared to challenge the "Emperor."

There was no enraged expression, nor Qin Fen’s oppressive might. Caesar's fist, shaped like a seal, descended again without hesitation.

Facing the crimson spear capable of easily turning a man into a pincushion, Caesar was not merely relying on his imperial posture to await attack.

Caesar’s attack was straightforward, devoid of any backup plans or dazzling maneuvers. It was simpler than one plus one equals two: he simply raised his hand and brought it down toward the head.

However, with this single seal strike, Caesar’s entire presence seemed to grow significantly. His legs widened into a horse stance, his spine ramrod straight, and his neck appeared subtly thicker as his arm smashed downward.

The entire figure resembled a diligent, benevolent emperor rapidly stamping official documents with his imperial seal.

Execution of the Entire Clan!

This derived from the Emperor’s absolute decree: once spoken, the word is final; once the seal is stamped, there is no turning back!

Caesar raised his seal strike, conveying the absolute finality of an imperial edict allowing no appeal.

Moraddek’s scalp tingled, every muscle twitching. He spread his arms, using the great spear to brace horizontally above his head, deepening his horse stance to anchor himself, bracing against the descending imperial mandate.

Spear and seal collided, shaking Moraddek’s grip so violently that the great spear began to spin rapidly in his palms.

The pressure point! It was the pressure point again!

The discerning martial artists present were stunned. In that split second of lightning speed, Caesar not only managed a full counterattack but also accurately located the pressure point on the opponent's spear during its defense—this was astonishing. Was he truly a Seven-Star martial artist? Could a Seven-Star martial artist possess such insight?

Moraddek was also a master, but his martial sense paled in comparison to Caesar’s. This exchange did not entirely block the attack of Execution of the Entire Clan. His shoulders numbed, and he was forced back.

Caesar’s Imperial Seal struck down, stopping just half a foot from Moraddek’s forehead.

At this moment, Moraddek felt the scent of death. But what baffled countless martial artists was his expression: instead of fear, hesitation flashed across his eyes! As if some crucial decision weighed heavily on his mind.

In the instant before defeat, Moraddek stopped looking at Caesar, instead turning his head to glance at Qin Fen in the stands below.

Just one look—and the hesitation in Moraddek’s eyes was instantly replaced by resolute fury. He gripped the spear shaft again with both hands, rotating his waist to channel the strength of his entire body, forcefully driving the spear against the descending Imperial Seal!

Puff…

A splash of bright crimson fluid erupted from the tip of the crimson spear. Caesar staggered, retreating for the first time since the fight began. He stared in surprise at his right hand, which was now bleeding. Then he looked at Moraddek’s spear, which was suddenly covered in sharp steel barbs.

Hidden Weapon!

Moraddek glared coldly at Caesar. While using such a tactic in the tournament didn't strictly violate the rules, it was undeniably ignoble.

If he could avoid it, Moraddek wouldn't have used it. The preceding Execution of the Entire Clan, though lacking a follow-up, would have left him vulnerable had he yielded the spear and retreated, exposing his currently weakened arms to another Execution of the Entire Clan. That could have been genuinely dangerous.

Moraddek glanced sideways at Qin Fen below, silently listening to the simultaneous booing from tens of thousands of spectators. His ice-cold expression remained utterly unchanged.

Boo all you want! Moraddek shifted his gaze back to Caesar: "You look down on me, don't you? It doesn't matter! It’s irrelevant! No matter what others think of me, I allow myself to be defeated here—I absolutely cannot lose!"

In the vast stadium, only the West Asian newcomers shed tears. Only they understood the crushing burden Moraddek carried! He was willing to tarnish his personal martial honor to fiercely defend West Asia’s glory, break into the finals, and defeat Qin Fen!

Caesar smiled, lightly shaking his index finger, his tone mysteriously thoughtful: "No, no, I was mistaken. I underestimated a warrior's determination to win. I have seen your resolve, and that is excellent; there is nothing wrong with it. Do not carry any psychological burden; let us continue."

"Thank you for your indulgence, but I must inform you of an unfortunate matter. Perhaps once you hear it, you won't be quite so magnanimous." Moraddek stated with a shadow of grimness on his face: "That near-death experience just now gave me immense pressure. I think, in that instant, I grew stronger."

"Oh?" A hint of disappointment flickered in Caesar's expectant eyes: "I thought, under the pressure of death, you managed to break through and reach Eight-Star."

Eight-Star? Moraddek's face showed a hint of bitterness; he shook his head repeatedly. If he hadn't used the hidden weapon in the spear, and instead faced defeat honorably, perhaps the added pressure from that honorable defeat would have truly propelled him into Eight-Star.

Defeat, reaching Eight-Star.

Using the hidden weapon to counterattack left him hovering just outside the threshold of Eight-Star…

Moraddek shook his head again. In this world, not all good fortune could concentrate on one person. Since he made his choice, he couldn't regret it.

His thoughts stilled, he planted the tip of his barb-covered spear, adopting a war-horse stance, instantly transforming into a fierce general from an ancient battlefield.

Whoosh!

The crimson spear bristling with barbs once again became a phantom storm of spears, like a coiling flood dragon hidden within a crimson cloud, bearing down on Caesar with the force of an overwhelming tide.

At this moment, Moraddek knew Caesar could no longer target the pressure point of his spear.

At this instant, most of the spectators showed looks of disgust, simultaneously casting looks of greater sympathy toward Caesar. The hardness and elasticity of the Crimson-Vein Steel were astonishing; even if Caesar had cultivated the Eight-Layered Shield, he couldn't withstand a full thrust from this great spear.

Qin Fen shook his head almost simultaneously with Bai Sheng in the stands. When the spear is no longer just a spear, the spear technique must change! Moraddek was clever; he did change his technique, but the spear shaft covered in countless barbs brought not only increased defense but also a slight impediment to speed.

Although this slight impediment was negligible to most people, it genuinely existed.

Caesar stood quietly in place. This time, he did not employ the footwork of All Under Heaven is the King’s Land. He simply stood there, motionless, watching the attacking spear approach.

His bright eyes reflected countless afterimages of the red spear tips, his entire body enveloped by the spear shadows, yet he remained still.

Yang Lie's eyes first showed surprise, then bloomed with sparks of admiration. Caesar was truly gambling! After Moraddek’s power increase, Caesar still held the advantage, yet he stood motionless. This could only indicate he harbored greater ambition.

However, Moraddek's enhanced spear attack was even harder to decipher than before. Even without the power increase, Yang Lie doubted Caesar could succeed in his intended action, let alone now…

Imperial Seal!

No one expected that the hand shaped into a seal would strike directly at the spear tip of Moraddek’s crimson weapon!

The group of girls who always supported Caesar were too stunned even to scream. They had seen the slow-motion playback; Moraddek’s spear, while appearing to thrust, was actually rotating at extreme velocity! A slight error, and the strike would land not on the blunted side of the tip, but on something hundreds of times more dangerous than the steel barbs.

Moraddek was equally shocked. Had Caesar gone mad? Even if he could calculate the speed, so what? Didn't he know he could change the spear’s rotation speed at any moment? No! His strength should tell him that!

The spear tip reached Caesar’s throat; the sharp spear energy even made his skin ripple slightly…

Hum… Crack… Hum…

The Imperial Seal landed on the spear tip. Moraddek altered the spear’s rotation speed, but it in no way affected Caesar’s hand landing precisely on the unsharpened part of the tip.

Moraddek felt wave after wave of force transmit through the shaft to his palm. Before he could react, Caesar’s second Imperial Seal, his third Imperial Seal, his fourth…

All struck the unsharpened section of the spear tip in succession, sending bursts of unique vibrational force through the shaft and into his palms…

Eight-Star! Moraddek stared in surprise at the change in Caesar’s aura. Qin Fen narrowed his eyes into slits, observing the slightly vibrating spear shaft—a well-executed demonstration of externalized True Qi.

Eight-Star! Among the tens of thousands of spectators, the small contingent of Caesar's supporters screamed with elation. Caesar had unleashed his Eight-Star strength; the newcomer tournament was no longer a peak occupied solely by Qin Fen.

"You lost."

A smug smile touched Caesar's lips. He held the spear, which he had taken from Moraddek at some unknown point. The scent of death was truly intoxicating! The medicinal residues constantly forced into his system by his family since childhood, things his body had not fully assimilated, were finally absorbed and digested under the stimulus of every nerve ending in this critical moment.

"You... how did you do that..." Moraddek stared at Caesar in disbelief. That spear strike was his pinnacle attack…

"Unfortunately," Caesar tossed the spear back to Moraddek, "my martial sense is far stronger than you can imagine."

Hoo…

Caesar exhaled a breath, looked up at Qin Fen in the newcomers' section, a slight expression of gratitude lingering in his eyes. Merely the threat of death was insufficient; he needed other pressure, such as the pressure exerted by a goal at the summit.

Without Qin Fen, facing only the threat of death…

Caesar knew he still couldn't achieve this transformation.

"Old Qin, envious?" Xue Tian laughed, his eyes curving into crescent moons. "This is the biggest advantage descendants of great families have over you—innate foundation! They start supplementing their bodies even before birth. I hear Shangguan Chuanqi is even more exaggerated; his father was specially selected by the Vermillion Bird just for him."

"It's fine," Qin Fen gently shook his head. "Innate foundation doesn't determine everything. My acquired strength is more than enough."

Caesar returned to his seat. People were surprised to realize that the finals, which had seemed almost decided, had suddenly become uncertain again.

Xue Tian was indeed powerful, dispatching Brooks of the Americas, one of the top Seven-Star fighters, in just two moves. But that was still Seven-Star strength!

Caesar had reached Eight-Star! And judging by his counterattack, Qin Fen’s unique method of impressing palm prints onto the chests of higher-star fighters with comparatively lower force was no longer an exclusive patent.

Moraddek returned to the competitor area, dejected. He stared blankly at the ground; even using such a despicable tactic, he had still lost.

Several West Asian newcomers gathered around him, their small group looking particularly isolated under the massive arena lights. A desolate aura slowly emanated from them.

"I was wrong…" Moraddek slowly lifted his head, his eyes filled with repentance. "I shouldn't have used the hidden weapon. Perhaps if I had held on for just one more second, the winner of this match would have been me…"

The crowd soon realized that the martial combat section of this newcomer tournament had prematurely eliminated West Asia.

Which military district would be the next to exit? The audience looked curiously toward Africa, and then toward Yang Lie of the Americas, as he was in the same half of the bracket as Qin Fen, and few expected him to defeat Qin Fen to reach the finals.

"Congratulations," Solomon stood up and looked at Caesar. "What are your odds of winning?"

"I don't know," Caesar shook his head. "But I have confidence."

"Is that so?" Solomon turned his gaze toward Xing Wuyi in the East Asian newcomers' section, a slight smile touching his lips. "Rumor has it, he was the former champion of the East Asian newcomers, Du Zhanpeng's best subordinate. To be Du Zhanpeng’s follower, he must have some skill, I presume? I hope he doesn't disappoint me."

"En," Caesar nodded slightly. "I hope he can stimulate those dormant reserves within you."

"Please, the newcomer from East Asia, Xing Wuyi…"

“It’s my turn.” Xing Wuyi rose with studied elegance, lifting the gold-rimmed spectacles from the bridge of his nose and placing them carefully on his seat. He glanced toward Qin Fen. “Keep an eye on these for me, would you? They were a gift from Young Master Du.”

Many present regarded Xing Wuyi with curiosity. This man had carved his way through the brackets to reach the final sixteen, yet he exuded an aura of quiet competence, his demeanor as unassuming as his refined temperament suggested.