Chapter 255 - 244: Head to Head
Zhao Lin stood on the stage, not feeling nervous at all. But for the spectators from Great Yue, especially the elders of the Xingyun Sect, their palms were already slick with sweat.
Before the martial assembly began, if someone had told them that two Xingyun Sect disciples would make it into the top sixteen, with one even advancing to the top eight, they would have certainly been satisfied.
But now that the day had come, they couldn’t help but hope he would go even further.
Both Zhao Lin and Muheli were tall and powerfully built, with broad shoulders and long legs. Standing on the stage, if not for the different colors of their training uniforms, it would be hard to tell them apart at a glance.
Muheli cupped his fist, then suddenly grinned and said, seemingly out of nowhere, "What a coincidence. This match is Wuzhu against Great Yue, and so is the next one."
The next match was Bolta versus He Liancheng. Zhao Lin didn’t know why he was bringing this up and didn’t take the bait, simply clasping his hands in return. "Quite a coincidence indeed."
Muheli added, "I know your goal is to defeat Bolta, but you’ll have to get past me first!"
"Fine!"
Zhao Lin said no more, raising his fist to signal the start of the match.
Seeing this, Elder Ruan announced loudly, "On your marks! One, two, three!"
The moment the word "three" left his lips, Zhao Lin and Muheli charged at each other.
Before they even got close, Muheli suddenly spun and raised his leg, launching a vicious whip kick with his foot extended ramrod straight.
He knew his strength was no match for Zhao Lin’s and wanted to seize the initiative.
’A clever opponent!’
The thought crossed Zhao Lin’s mind, and he immediately raised his arm to block instead of dodging.
BANG!
Zhao Lin’s upper body swayed. Before he could even steady himself, he stepped forward and threw a punch.
Muheli quickly retracted his leg. Ignoring the incoming punch, he stood his ground and viciously swept his other leg toward Zhao Lin’s left hip.
’A trade-off strategy, aiming for mutual injury!’
Zhao Lin was startled. If he didn’t retract his fist, he would definitely hit his opponent first, but he would inevitably take a leg kick in return.
’What’s he relying on that makes him so bold?’
With no time to think in that split second, Zhao Lin changed the path of his fist to meet the incoming kick, the impact forcing him back two steps.
Having gained the upper hand with one move, Muheli immediately followed up with a palm strike, a triumphant look flashing in his eyes.
As Zhao Lin parried the palm, he saw the cold smirk on his opponent’s lips and suddenly understood.
At the start of the match, Muheli had mentioned that if he wanted to fight Bolta, he had to get past him first.
Bolta was incredibly strong. He had to conserve enough stamina and, more importantly, avoid injury. Otherwise, even if he won this match, it would be impossible to beat Bolta in the next.
Muheli had seen this point exactly, which was why he was so fearlessly willing to trade blows.
’So that was his brilliant plan! Using the next match to gain an advantage in this one!’
The elders in the Great Yue stands also figured it out. Elder Gold Stone snorted coldly, "Are the Wuzhu trying to trade one for one with us?"
Yang Lin said in a low voice, "Pitting their weakest horse against our strongest. Of course they don’t lose out."
"This... We analyzed their fighting styles for ages, but we never considered this angle."
"Let’s not panic. Zhao Lin should be able to handle it..."
In a flash, the two on the stage exchanged seven or eight moves. Muheli tried the same trick again, ignoring Zhao Lin’s claw strike aimed at his shoulder and swinging a fist toward Zhao Lin’s chest.
Zhao Lin sneered internally. ’Does he really think I don’t dare to trade blows?’
This time, he didn’t back down. Maintaining his posture, his five fingers shot out like lightning in a claw-hand strike.
Muheli was taken aback, not expecting Zhao Lin to actually dare to clash head-on with him. But a moment later, a vicious smile spread across his lips.
He had cultivated the Body Refining Fist for over a decade, diligently tempering his skin, muscles, and bones every day. His ability to withstand attacks was extremely high. Even if he took a claw strike first, he was confident he could land a heavy blow on Zhao Lin and recover faster.
At this thought, he didn’t stop his punch, instead gathering his remaining Qi to protect his body.
But soon, he found he couldn’t smile anymore.
Zhao Lin’s claw strike was suffused with a frigid, yin-heavy aura. Before it even made contact, Muheli felt a deep chill, and goosebumps instantly broke out on his skin.
PFFT!
Zhao Lin’s claw hit Muheli, releasing his Cold Ice True Qi.
The Body Refining Fist was a rare Cultivation Technique that used attribute-less Qi, so there was no issue of elemental strengths or weaknesses. However, it couldn’t withstand the Cold Ice True Qi and was instantly suppressed.
Muheli only felt the icy chill penetrate his body. A sharp pain shot through his shoulder, and his body trembled. The punch he had thrown became soft and powerless, lightly tapping against Zhao Lin’s chest.
Zhao Lin had already anticipated this outcome. The moment his claw struck, he blasted out a Stone Roar Fist.
Muheli staggered back a dozen steps—STOMP, STOMP, STOMP—and swayed, but managed to stay on his feet.
Seeing how durable his opponent was, Zhao Lin unleashed a flurry of steps, pouncing as swiftly as a leopard.
Faced with an offense like a raging storm, Muheli held on for a few more exchanges before finally collapsing, unable to continue.
"He won!"
"Zhao Lin won..."
The disciples of Great Yue erupted in cheers, pumping their fists. Yang Lin, Lu Chaohuan, and the others also shot to their feet, exchanging looks of pure delight.
The Wuzhu stands fell silent. Elder Gao Yun let out a long sigh. "If I’m not mistaken, that move just now was the Three Yin Claw. It’s been a long time since anyone from Great Yue has used that Cultivation Technique..."
Another elder had a grim expression as he glanced at Bolta, who was preparing to go on stage. "To think that this Zhao Lin actually cultivates a dual-attribute technique!"
Bolta realized this as well, and his gaze toward Zhao Lin grew much more solemn.
In fact, during the group stage, Zhao Lin had used the Celestial Frost Fist in his match against Yi Rihao.
But at the time, nine stages were active simultaneously, and the Wuzhu members were all focused on the performance of their own disciples, so they hadn’t noticed.
’So he wasn’t even going all out yesterday!’
In the Xiuzhao stands, Jiang Pu gently shook his head, a wave of relief washing over him.
Yesterday, he had been resentful about his loss to Zhao Lin. But after watching this match, he realized the gap between them was not what he had imagined.
The third match: He Liancheng versus Bolta.
He Liancheng’s strength was far inferior to Bolta’s, but his metal-attribute Qi was all-penetrating. Aside from Fire Attribute Qi, no other type of Qi could meet its edge head-on.
When they clashed, even Bolta had to avoid its sharp edge.
He Liancheng went on the offensive from the very beginning, his Qi forming scimitar-like blades along his arms as he slashed horizontally and chopped vertically with relentless aggression.
Coupled with his swift and nimble Body Technique, he fought for over a dozen exchanges without falling into a disadvantage.
Bolta grew gradually anxious. In the previous two matches, both Basang and Zhao Lin had won within twenty moves. As someone aiming for the championship, how could he be outshone by them?
Besides, if the fight dragged on like this, he would expend too much energy, putting him at a disadvantage for his match against Zhao Lin later.
’I have to finish this opponent now!’
With this in mind, he stomped his foot violently, activating his Gathering Body Skill. In an instant, he appeared before He Liancheng and unleashed a Heavy Mountain Fist.
He Liancheng had been on guard against this move. As he flew backward in retreat, he countered with a palm chop.
Bolta gave a cold smile. He took a step forward, and with a shake of his body, dozens of streams of earth-attribute Qi flowed out from his mountain-like frame, forming a wall of sand-like armor.
KSSSH!
He Liancheng’s palm-blade struck Bolta’s Qi armor, making a sound like a knife scraping against sandstone.
BANG!
With a single punch, Bolta sent He Liancheng flying off the stage.