Chapter 37: Peak State, A Brutal Exchange of Blows!
On the arena.
One figure gazed on with cold contempt.
One smiled without a sound.
Every spectator saw that faint smile.
Was it despair at having given everything, only to fall short?
Or was it quiet acceptance of being simply outmatched?
Of the entire Round of Sixteen, had Gu Lin drawn any of the other fourteen opponents, he could have secured victory through his staggering combat strength. But of all people, his opponent had to be Yan Xu.
Just as Young Master Yan Xu had said.
It was time to concede.
To concede now would cost him no dignity—he could face the cheers head-on with his honor intact.
A dual cultivator of both the Confucian and Martial Daos, an Energy Condensation Seventh Level fighter who had gone toe-to-toe with a high-level Cavern Mystery Second Level cultivator, forcing Young Master Yan Xu to the very brink of defeat, surviving only by burning his family’s precious essence blood to escape certain doom.
Gu Lin had already proven himself more than powerful enough, more than brilliant enough!
If he still refused to concede, and Young Master Yan Xu’s killing intent stirred, he might well lose his life for it!
Up on the elevated platform, Centurion Zhu of the Literary Dao Academy, resplendent in his pristine white Lotus-flower robe, spoke in a deep voice:
“Gu Lin—my Literary Dao Academy’s subordinate Blade-Bearer Bureau claims him!”
The moment the words fell—
The Centurion of the Heavenly Mystery Guard’s face went rigid as he coldly cut in with a rebuttal:
“He cultivates the Confucian Dao, so he belongs to the Literary Dao Academy’s Blade-Bearer Bureau? He’ll wear the Flying-fish robe—he belongs to my Heavenly Mystery Guard’s Blade-Bearer Bureau!”
From the other side, the Centurion of the Eastern Temple’s tone was even more forceful, declaring with absolute certainty:
“The Eastern Temple’s Blade-Bearer Bureau claims Gu Lin!”
In their eyes, Gu Lin’s defeat was already sealed—his internal energy had been largely depleted, leaving him with no strength left to continue fighting. The fact that he still hadn’t spoken the words of concession was likely simply because he found it hard to let go of his pride.
A talent like this deserved a place in a Sacred Ground—it was simply a shame his fortune had run thin.
Naturally, they intended to claim him for their own Blade-Bearer Bureau instead.
Hearing the words of the three Centurions, Zhao Can’s heart sank, and he hurriedly looked toward his superior from the Martial Extremity Hall.
Once Gu Lin slipped free of the Martial Extremity Hall’s control, Zhao Can wouldn’t be able to reach him so easily. Sure, he could still exact a bloody vengeance through other means, but it would certainly never come as effortlessly as it would within the Martial Extremity Hall’s own Blade-Bearer Bureau.
The Centurion of the Martial Extremity Hall’s expression remained calm as still water, utterly unconcerned as he spoke:
“For this selection trial, the Martial Extremity Hall gets first pick of the Blade-Bearers. What business is it of theirs?”
Truthfully, in his heart, he found himself genuinely impressed by Gu Lin’s tenacious fighting spirit.
But between an inconsequential stranger and a trusted subordinate of his own, the choice was obvious.
Zhao Can let out a breath of relief, and was just about to cup his hands in a bow of gratitude.
Suddenly, his eyes turned sharp as blades.
Up on the arena, Gu Lin had moved—his internal energy circulating through a Minor Cosmic Cycle.
“Still struggling in vain?”
Zhao Can’s expression turned grim. If Gu Lin truly ended up beaten to death by Yan Xu, he himself wouldn’t get to exact vengeance with his own hands—how could Little Yao’s spirit ever rest in peace then?
But in the very next instant, Zhao Can sharply sensed something was wrong, his face twisting with extreme discomfort.
Nearly every Sacred Ground member present turned their heads, staring intently.
There was still another trump card left?
Up on the arena, Gu Lin’s black hair danced wildly in the wind as a surge of blood energy rose from the crown of his skull, coiling and gathering above him, building toward an overwhelming crescendo. His internal energy climbed step by step, several times its normal strength surging violently within his body.
Striving to Rival Heaven Itself!
So what if he’d fall a stage in cultivation afterward? There were countless ways to make up the loss later.
In this battle, he could not afford to lose.
He would not lose!
Yan Xu’s eyes trembled violently, his inky pupils reflecting back a crimson silhouette as his opponent’s internal energy forcibly climbed all the way to Energy Condensation Ninth Level.
What manner of bizarre secret art was this?
A direct leap of two full stages?
The sudden, unexpected turn of events sent a shock through the entire arena so intense it raised the hair on every neck.
Just when everyone had believed Young Master Gu Lin had burned through every last reserve and stood at the edge of total despair, he still had another hidden trump card in reserve?
Yan Xu steadied his mind, skimmed across the ground, and spoke in a voice cold as ice:
“You think you can shake me? You’re far from it!”
The bloody glow around his body surged and coalesced into a shield of light, his figure moving with the swiftness of the wind as he charged straight at Gu Lin, intent on killing him.
The Yan Family’s signature movement art, “Wind Leaves No Trace,” combined with the Blood-Refined Divine Light!
Gu Lin likewise drove the Wave-Treading Steps to their absolute limit, thirty-two palm prints striking outward, forming an impenetrable wall of palms.
The collision was violent, but this time, the defensive wall of palms did not collapse.
Internal energy clashed back and forth in an endless push and pull, even amid the brutal grinding struggle, the palm wall held firm.
“Young Master Gu is holding his ground!”
“He’s standing toe-to-toe with Yan Xu!”
Every spectator felt their hearts surge, too stunned to contain themselves.
When Gu Lin had unleashed his secret art, pushing his cultivation all the way to Energy Condensation Ninth Level, he had truly, head-on, held his own against a direct descendant of a noble family at the Cavern Mystery Second Level!
The standoff held for a full five breaths before Yan Xu’s expression turned severe, and he bellowed furiously:
“How long can that secret art of yours possibly last? Break for me!”
He then thrust out a palm with tremendous force, carrying with it a raw, overwhelming power capable of shattering mountains and cracking stone tablets.
“The Yan Family’s Mountain-Sweeping River Palm!” many sect elders recognized it at a single glance.
Legend held that only high-level Cavern Mystery warriors of the Yan Family could even attempt to cultivate this technique—no one had expected Yan Xu to have already mastered it to such a degree. What a terrifying level of martial accomplishment!
The palm strike descended, nearly slamming directly into the palm wall.
Gu Lin curled the fingers of both hands into hollow claws, raw force surging and rolling, two Three Yang Bloodline-Severing Marks rising to meet the attack head-on.
Sizzle—
The flesh of Yan Xu’s palm burned and scorched, but he gritted through the pain without so much as a furrowed brow, until he finally tore open a breach in the palm wall.
Struck by the aftershock, Gu Lin’s face turned pale as paper, blood seeping from the corner of his mouth.
But he forcibly mobilized his internal energy once more, unleashing another Thousand-Hand Tathagata Palm, palm afterimages densely layered together, once again forming a solid defensive wall.
Once again, the standoff held.
Under the gaze of nearly a hundred thousand spectators, the two combatants’ struggle grew increasingly brutal.
Yan Xu’s palm had been burned charred black, blood dripping from it continuously.
Gu Lin’s face remained deathly pale, blood still seeping steadily from the corner of his mouth.
“How long can your cultivation possibly hold?”
Yan Xu roared furiously, his aura bearing down with overwhelming pressure as he unleashed the Mountain-Sweeping River Palm once more.
Gu Lin held his ground just as stubbornly, once again meeting the attack with the silent, unseen Three Yang Bloodline-Severing Mark.
After the exchange, both of Yan Xu’s palms were charred black and burned, his arms trembling with agony.
Meanwhile, blood seeped from all seven of Gu Lin’s facial orifices, trickling down his chin and staining his robe.
Watching this brutal, grinding exchange of blows, countless spectators felt chills crawl across their skin.
Had the two of them been at the same cultivation level, Yan Xu would have already lost long ago!
But Yan Xu stood at the high level of the Cavern Mystery Second Level—his internal energy surged like a mighty river in full flood, utterly overwhelming the mere trickling stream within Gu Lin’s dantian.
If this standoff continued, Gu Lin would surely die!
How much longer could that secret art possibly last?
And more than that—why hadn’t Gu Lin struck back?
Everyone knew that the defensive palm wall concealed within it a single lethal, solid palm strike, and yet that decisive strike still hadn’t come!
Most importantly of all—what of that supreme Confucian art?
Watching this unfold, every spectator felt themselves choked with tension, unwilling to miss even the slightest detail.
Up on the arena, veins bulged steadily across Yan Xu’s forehead. The searing agony radiating from both his palms was secondary—what truly mattered was how his opponent’s secret art was still, somehow, continuing to hold?!
Amid the absolute silence, the two clashed violently once more, until flesh and blood blurred together, both of their arms trembling from shoulder to palm, Yan Xu’s very wrists now scorched and burned.
Suddenly—
The trembling, precarious wall of palms shifted.
A single solid palm strike of unmatched power descended, on the verge of slamming directly into Yan Xu’s chest.
Gu Lin had struck first.
“Can’t hold on any longer?”
In that split-second, life-or-death instant, Yan Xu reacted with blinding speed, the essence blood within his body igniting once more, his aura swelling ever more powerful.
In that instant, every Sacred Ground member present held their breath, their eyes filled with utter shock.
Zhao Can felt as though he’d been plunged into an icy abyss, a wave of cold dread washing over his entire body.
Yan Xu had fallen for it!
In that very instant, Gu Lin seized the fleeting, split-second opportunity, purple mist swirling between his brows as his Righteous Energy transformed into an invisible cage, unleashing the Confine Art.
In a single breath, Yan Xu found himself utterly unable to move.
He felt as though he were standing at the edge of a cliff, plummeting into a bottomless abyss, his entire face twisted with despair.
Amid the roar of thunder, the Eighteen Consecutive Aerial Kicks had already closed in before him.
Countless spectators felt their hearts seize violently, staring at that unbelievable scene unfolding before them.
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