Finally, the shadow of that colossal fist shattered completely, dissolving into a rain of dispersing phantom blows that scattered everywhere. The giant palm, though showing fissures, had not entirely broken; it descended with an unyielding, crushing might.

Seeing this, the look of horror on many faces solidified, especially those of the major City Lords. They recognized Jue's identity, knowing him to be a terrifyingly powerful monster. Yet now, it seemed he was no match for this human. Had his fist shadow truly been demolished? Was this human really this formidable? Yuan’s face was etched with shock; he would never have believed Jue to be inferior to Ye Jingyu.

Let alone the others, even Jue himself displayed a flicker of surprise. Clearly, he hadn't anticipated that his fist shadow would be annihilated by Ye Jingyu’s Cangsheng Seal. It was in this moment of astonishment that the giant palm slammed down with brutal force.

With a sharp crack, the massive palm struck his arm. The sound of bone shattering echoed instantly, and the immense power pressed down entirely, like a mountain collapsing, before finally exploding outward in ruin.

A blinding flash of light erupted. The colossal arena shuddered with a deep rumble, as if struck by an earthquake. A thick cloud of dust billowed up, obscuring everyone’s vision, and even Ye Jingyu’s silhouette was swallowed by the haze.

Silence descended upon the scene once more. Everyone stared wide-eyed at the ring enclosed by the barrier, wondering if the mighty monster had truly been vanquished.

Slowly, the swirling dust began to settle, allowing the crowd to finally discern what had transpired within.

The arena was no longer the immaculately solid platform it had been. It was now a mere ruin. The durable Ziyun Luotie had been almost entirely destroyed, with only fragments scattered at the edges. A massive pit, easily a hundred zhang across and dozens of zhang deep, scarred the ground, accompanied by numerous chasms that plunged into the unseen depths.

The light emanating from the protective barrier, jointly established by the three supreme Lords, had dimmed considerably. Many spectators wondered if the barrier could withstand even one more strike from these two combatants.

Two figures stood at opposite ends of the great pit. Ye Jingyu’s clothing hung in tatters, exposing large swathes of skin. Though standing, he clutched his chest, panting heavily; it was evident that the previous exchange had drained him of nearly all his strength.

Jue also appeared far from unscathed. His entire right arm hung limp—a clear break, it seemed. Yet, for an unknown reason, he made no move to use his power to mend the limb, allowing it to dangle uselessly.

His wild hair was even more disheveled, the chains that bound him now strewn across the ground. A trickle of dark, crimson blood seeped from the corner of his mouth—not the dark gold blood typical of demons, but a deep, somber red.

However, the previously clouded depths of his eyes now shone with a brilliant light, much like a three-year-old child discovering a cherished toy.

The inherent violent aura within him intensified, growing thicker and stronger by the moment.

With a soft swish, Jue suddenly extended his crimson tongue, licking away the trace of blood at his lip. He then fixed his gaze directly upon Ye Jingyu and spoke calmly, "Well? Are you still capable of fighting?"

"Heh heh, haven't beaten you yet, so how could I not fight?" Ye Jingyu managed a grim smile, but anyone could see he was running on fumes.

"If that is the case, I won't hold back any further," Jue warned. Before his words even fully faded, his figure vanished from his spot, reappearing instantly before Ye Jingyu to unleash a thunderous punch.

Ye Jingyu instantly recognized the trajectory of the blow and attempted to counter by gripping Jue’s arm. But halfway through raising his own limb, Jue’s fist smashed into his sternum. A mist of blood sprayed outward as a gaping hole was ripped open in his chest.

Before Ye Jingyu could even utter a sound of pain, Jue's second punch slammed into his shoulder. His once formidable physique could not withstand such force; it ruptured once more, exposing the stark white bone beneath, which itself was now crisscrossed with fractures.

With a deafening boom, Ye Jingyu’s other shoulder was pulverized, sending his body flying backward to crash heavily onto the ground.

Blood soaked his ruined garments, and shreds of his own flesh clung to his hair. His face was utterly ashen.

Witnessing this, the hearts of Ni Bo, Xiao Tao Tao, and Xue Ling tightened painfully. As for Ling, she felt as though she herself had been struck. The pain in her chest was agonizing, her head throbbed in tandem, and tears began to stream down her face involuntarily.

Why? Why did her heart ache so profoundly? Why did she feel such overwhelming distress? She didn't even know him, so why this sensation? What was the reason? With a sharp pang in her heart, Ling felt an overwhelming compulsion: to run to his side and hold him tightly in her embrace.

Without another word, Ling turned and bolted out of the box. She didn't understand the impulse; she only knew she had to obey it.

Yuan’s attention remained entirely fixed on the arena, still reeling from Ye Jingyu’s previous palm strike. He entirely failed to notice Ling fleeing the private box.

Ye Jingyu felt as though his entire body had been shattered—no, it was shattered. Several times, he fought the urge to summon the Fantian Seal and the Donghuang Bell, but the thought of Ling’er waiting for him forced him to suppress the impulse.

An unbearable agony coursed through his entire being, worse than when the energies of Destruction and Creation had previously surged through him.

His internal reserves were almost entirely depleted; now, even lifting a finger was a monumental effort, let alone standing up.

Had he truly lost? After exerting his utmost effort, could he still not achieve victory? This position as Legion Commander was his best chance to infiltrate the Earth Alliance and build his influence; it was also the most critical step toward rescuing Ling’er. How could he surrender now?

But what good was refusing to yield when his strongest attack had only managed to wound his opponent’s arm? Such an injury meant nothing to Jue. How could the utterly exhausted Ye Jingyu possibly defeat him now?

Ye Jingyu yearned only to close his eyes and finally rest, to sleep soundly. But just as his eyelids began to droop, a pure, innocent figure appeared within his failing field of vision.