Noticing that Li Jingsheng was young and possessed extraordinary looks, someone felt a pang of pity and offered a word of advice: “Young man, you would be better off thinking this through a bit more.”
Another person chimed in to persuade him: “Indeed, indeed. A young fellow like you shouldn’t just place bets based on someone’s face.” That person leaned closer to Li Jingsheng and lowered their voice: “I heard it from others too. This pretty boy, this pretty boy has a discarded spiritual root.”
“Do you even know what a discarded spiritual root means? He is a total good-for-nothing, there is no way he can win!”
Seeing the contempt plastered across their faces, Li Jingsheng rolled his eyes inwardly: So what if it is a discarded spiritual root? Even discarded spiritual roots deserve a chance at a comeback, don’t they?
Yet, outwardly, he maintained his smile, tapped the table once, and reiterated with absolute certainty: “I am betting on him.”
Realizing they couldn’t talk him out of it, the bystanders simply minded their own business, leaving Li Jingsheng to enjoy the peace and quiet.
The bookie asked him one last time: “Are you sure?”
Growing somewhat exasperated by the persistent questioning, Li Jingsheng knitted his brows slightly and urged, “Sure, absolutely sure.”
A few people who recognized Li Jingsheng’s identity couldn’t help growing suspicious.
Clearly the one who despised that good-for-nothing the most, he was now placing a massive stake on that very same good-for-nothing. Could that good-for-nothing actually have some hidden trump card?
With that thought in mind, the number of people betting on Mo Yu actually started to climb.
However, everyone kept their wagers conservative; even with their suspicions, no one dared to bet too heavily.
Having placed his bet, Li Jingsheng turned around to watch the match, blissfully unaware of the minor commotion he had just caused.
On the competition stage, Mo Yu and Wang Yong stood on opposite sides.
Mo Yu wore the cyan attire gifted to him. A gentle breeze caught the hem of his robes, lifting the trailing sash, while his striking features genuinely made him resemble an immortal descended from the heavens.
Wang Yong was dressed in black today, complete with the signature emblem of the Lion Hall emblazoned across the back. The golden rule of black being slimming didn’t seem to apply very clearly to his physique.
Li Jingsheng studied the texture of Wang Yong’s black-and-gold satin robes closely, feeling an increasingly inexplicable sense of strangeness about the garment.
The golden-embroidered lion pattern on the back looked startlingly lifelike. The longer he stared at it, the more it resembled a living creature, giving Li Jingsheng a slight jolt of unease.
With too many people packed into the spectator stands, it wasn’t convenient to converse directly with Xiao Yu, so Li Jingsheng lightly stroked the bracelet-turned-pet and communicated through intent: “Xiao Yu, do you notice anything unusual about Wang Yong’s clothes today?”
Having recovered much of his energy over the past few days, Xiao Yu poked its head out at the question and took a look: “Hmm, they really are different.”
Li Jingsheng thought to himself that he was indeed growing sharper since he could spot such subtle changes, but Xiao Yu’s next words dashed cold water all over him.
“The color is different.” Xiao Yu was thoroughly convinced of its own stellar memory: “I remember they were cyan before, and today they are black.”
With that, it waited proudly for Li Jingsheng’s praise.
Instead, Li Jingsheng wore a speechless expression, remaining silent for a long while before finally uttering: “Never mind. Consider that I asked you nothing.”
He really shouldn’t have expected this feather to notice anything of substance.
Refusing to accept defeat, Xiao Yu wanted to argue back, but Li Jingsheng placated it first: “With that kind of self-confidence, you are bound to succeed at whatever you set your mind to.”
Hearing what sounded like a compliment, Xiao Yu dropped the matter and happily turned its attention to the match.
Li Jingsheng also refocused his attention on the arena.
The further he progressed through the plot, the more convinced he became that the novel he had read was flawed, with entire chunks heavily abridged.
For instance, this particular duel seemed to have been glossed over in a single stroke within the book, mentioning only that the protagonist managed a difficult victory against his opponent using self-crafted talismans.
It didn’t spend a single word describing who the opponent was or what kind of grueling battle the two went through to secure the win.
On the tournament stage, Mo Yu stared at Wang Yong across from him, his dark eyes brimming with chilling intent.
Though stoutly built, Wang Yong was certainly not short. Being three years older than Mo Yu, coupled with a life of good nutrition and proper physical absorption, he stood a solid half-head taller than Mo Yu.
Looking down from his height with undisguised mockery, he addressed Mo Yu as if sizing up a helpless chick, his tone arrogant and unbridled: “Kid, consider yourself lucky to run into me today. Since I am in a good mood, get on your knees and kowtow three times, then admit defeat, and I guarantee I won’t touch a single hair on your head.”
The weather was pleasant today with clear skies for miles. Bathed in the golden sunlight, Mo Yu stood facing away from the light, his expression grim. A sneer curled the corner of his lips as he spat out each word with deliberate force: “In your dreams.”
Wang Yong had a short fuse. Stung by the insolence, anger flared within him as he snarled viciously, “Fine, you asked for it! I am going to toy with you until you wish you were dead!”
Serving as the referee, Jin Yunhao stepped onto the stage at that moment. Stopping beside Mo Yu, he whispered quietly, “Don’t push yourself. Run if you can’t beat him, I will step in to halt the match in time.”
Mo Yu cast a grateful look toward Jin Yunhao and replied softly, “Thank you, Senior Brother.”
Jin Yunhao nodded almost imperceptibly and returned to the center of the arena. At the striking of the golden bell, the match officially began.
Provoked by Mo Yu’s earlier defiance, Wang Yong unleashed a lethal strike right out of the gate. Smashing his fists together, a flurry of golden lightning erupted between his knuckles. With a swift swing of his fists, those bolts of golden light surged straight toward Mo Yu!
This was the signature technique of the Lion Hall!
Thunderous Might!
As the name suggested, this technique utilized one’s own spiritual power as a catalyst, gathering energy within the fists before compressing it via specialized Lion Hall magical artifacts, ultimately transforming it into bolts of lightning that hurtled toward the opponent with treacherous speed.
The technique carried both pros and cons: higher spiritual power yielded a wider attack range and greater advantage, but it also drained spiritual energy at an accelerated rate.
Wang Yong opted for this ultimate move right at the start, likely because he was confident Mo Yu couldn’t evade it, coupled with the anger from the provocation just moments prior.
Wang Yong’s spiritual power was mediocre, allowing him to release only a handful of golden lightning bolts covering roughly one-third of the tournament stage. Yet that one-third completely hemmed Mo Yu in!
Exhausted after executing the move, Wang Yong leaned heavily on his knees, panting as he watched the golden radiance engulf Mo Yu.
He was certain that the good-for-nothing couldn’t possibly escape the speed of those lightning bolts, which tore across the ground with overwhelming momentum to crush Mo Yu!
A second later, Mo Yu vanished completely within the golden glare.
Wang Yong rubbed his plump hands, twirling the magical artifact on his wrist as he gazed with supreme contempt at the illuminated zone, feeling immensely satisfied.
Originally, he had planned to stop after shattering a leg or an arm just to spare the brat’s life, but since this piece of trash didn’t know the heights of heaven and earth and dared to challenge him, Wang Yong’s eyes flashed with a cruel glint: then go die!
The spectators in the stands felt a wave of disappointment at such a one-sided outcome. It lacked all challenge, deciding the victor far too quickly.
Those who had placed bets on Mo Yu sighed in resignation, mourning their lost coins.
Only Li Jingsheng kept his gaze locked intently on the glare of light.
The golden lightning moved with immense velocity, the entire sequence lasting under five seconds. As the lightning spilled toward the edge of the platform, members of the Lion Hall quickly stepped in to dissipate it before it could affect the audience seats.
Silence hung heavy over the scorched earth kicked up by the lightning.
Wang Yong broke into a grin, his facial flab bunching up as he sneered, “With that much skill, you dared to cross me? Dying is getting off easy for you!”
Yet the next instant, a dark blur materialized right in front of him, accompanied by a voice that sounded as though it drifted from the depths of a ghostly abyss: “Is that so?”
In the next second, an explosion of sparks erupted precisely where Wang Yong was standing!
As the dust settled, the scene on the stage came back into clear view.
Mo Yu stood amidst the scorched ruins left in the wake of the lightning storm, his dark hair whipping wildly. Countless small tears marred his attire, oozing tiny beads of blood, while even his normally pristine and ethereal face was smeared with grime and gore, looking utterly battered.
The crowd gasped in shock before erupting into a thunderous roar of cheers from the stands!
Seeing that Mo Yu was alive, half of the weight lifted from Li Jingsheng’s suspended heart.
Although he knew the protagonist possessed plot armor, witnessing the scene firsthand still caused an involuntary squeeze in his chest.
His gaze traveled far across the platform.
Mo Yu had slapped four or five bursting talismans onto Wang Yong just moments ago. While non-lethal, they should have inflicted severe injuries. He lacked Wang Yong’s malicious cruelty; winning the match was enough, he didn’t desire murder.
What he hadn’t anticipated, however, was that once the smoke cleared, Wang Yong was standing there completely unscathed!
A strong wind swept across the arena, billowing Wang Yong’s black robes, which shimmered faintly with golden light beneath the sunlight.
Mo Yu stared at his opponent, his dark eyes growing increasingly profound.
Brushing the ash from his clothes, Wang Yong cursed foully, “Damn it, you brat pack quite a punch!”
Giving his opponent no time to recover, Mo Yu moved swiftly, flinging out several more bursting talismans.
The talismans detonated against Wang Yong, yet the latter showed zero reaction. Irritated by the repeated blasts, Wang Yong snapped furiously, “You are still blowing me up! I am going to kill you!”
Having exhausted a massive chunk of his spiritual energy on his previous attack, Wang Yong hadn’t fully recovered. He covertly felt for the device on his wrist and pressed the trigger facing Mo Yu’s direction.
The artifact spat out several streaks of silver light.
Mo Yu sidestepped to evade the poisonous needles. The needles struck the ground, hissing with purple wisps of smoke that signaled toxic potency. Taking a hit would likely cost him his life right here.
A cold glint flashed in his eyes. The magical artifacts on this person must be numerous, and that robe was clearly one of them. Utilizing the terrain of the arena, he closed in on Wang Yong, determined to expose the flaw in the clothing.
All magical artifacts possessed weaknesses. While tossing out some of Li Jingsheng’s lower-attack-power yet highly distracting talismans, he meticulously observed the artifacts on Wang Yong’s person.
Before long, smoke once again shrouded the two combatants.
Irritated to no end by the smokescreen tricks, Wang Yong couldn’t land a strike despite his opponent standing right before him, a sensation that drove him up the wall.
He roared at the darting black shadow within the smoke: “Mo Yu, if you have got guts, stop hiding in the shadows! If you aren’t a coward, get out here and fight me properly!”
Ignoring the barking, Mo Yu continued executing his plan methodically.
Finally, he caught the flaw!
A tiny crack had appeared right beside the golden-embroidered lion pattern. He immediately unleashed a bursting talisman straight at that exact spot.
As the talisman detonated, Wang Yong yelped and hopped on one foot: “Damn it, you dare hurt me! Get out here! I will tear you to pieces!”
Paying no heed to the cornered-beast ranting, Mo Yu kept his eyes locked on the spot, noting that the crack had widened. He accelerated his tempo, hurling more talismans toward it.
Circling around Wang Yong to maintain throwing accuracy, Mo Yu held back from spamming attacks continuously, but within moments, a realization caused his brows to lock in a deep frown.
The pattern was capable of regenerating!
The damage he had just inflicted was healing at a visible rate!
Furious at being played for a fool, Wang Yong gathered his energy once more to unleash another wave of Thunderous Might. Seeing that the lion pattern was on the verge of breaking, Mo Yu knew that backing off now would allow the design to heal halfway.
He checked the remaining talismans in his hand, his heart sinking. These talismans could only blast open another opening at most once.
He had run out of room to maneuver.
The spiritual energy gathered in this round of lightning bolts was far weaker and lacked the might of the first strike, yet it still carried a destructive, sky-splitting momentum straight toward Mo Yu!
With nowhere left to run, Mo Yu took one of the golden lightning bolts directly head-on. This time, the impact kicked up very little dust, and Wang Yong watched in real-time as the lightning struck dead center into Mo Yu’s body.
The golden light pierced right through Mo Yu’s physique, causing him to instantly spew a mouthful of blood and drop to his knees, utterly motionless.
A wave of glee washed over Wang Yong: This is what happens when you cross me!