Chapter 93: The Challenge with Lingyin City’s representatives (Part-8)

Ryan stood motionless in the center of the ring, the faintest curve of a smile touching his lips.

It was the kind of smile that said everything had unfolded exactly as expected—no surprise, no triumph, just quiet certainty.

The arena had fallen into one of those heavy, ringing silences that follow a thunderclap. Thousands of pairs of eyes were locked on the two figures: one tall and bloodied, the other completely untouched.

Just minutes earlier, Fang Tian had been an unstoppable force. In the four previous matches—against the best Fengyue had to offer before the exempted seeds—he had only been struck once. A glancing blow. And even then, he hadn’t so much as staggered.

Now?

A single clean punch from Ryan had launched him more than ten meters across the stone like a discarded sack of grain.

Fang Tian’s ribs were clearly bruised, maybe cracked. Blood still trickled from the corner of his mouth. His breathing came in short, angry huffs.

Ryan?

Not even a hair out of place. His robe wasn’t torn. His knuckles weren’t even red.

The contrast was quite brutal.

A low murmur started in the stands, then rapidly swelled.

“What… what just happened?”

“My eyes aren’t broken, right? Li Wei actually met that monster head-on!”

“I thought he was going to get flattened like the others. Instead, Fang Tian flew!”

“More than ten meters! Did you see how high he went before he hit?”

“Fan Wei could barely block that same charge… and Li Wei just… punched him away like swatting a fly!”

“Is he actually going to win this?”

“Don’t jinx it! Fang Tian hasn’t used his full strength yet.”

“But… but there’s hope now. Actual hope.”

“So good… so damn good… I really thought we were going to be humiliated from start to finish today.”

“Li Wei! Smash him! Smash that smug bastard from Lingyin!”

The despair that had choked the entire Fengyue crowd just moments ago shattered like thin ice under a hammer. Faces that had been pale and drawn suddenly flushed with color. Shoulders that had slumped now squared. Eyes that had stared dully at the ground now burned with fierce, almost desperate excitement.

Everyone leaned forward in their seats, breaths held, as if afraid the miracle might vanish if they blinked.

Among the Li Clan disciples clustered near the participant area, pandemonium broke out.

“I told you! I told all of you!” one young man shouted, voice cracking with emotion. “I said our young master could handle these Lingyin dogs! Nobody believed me!”

“Hah! Once Brother Wei decides to move, what even is Lingyin City? He’d walk through the Western Mansion headquarters like it was his backyard!”

“This is our Li Wei—proud, domineering, invincible!”

“So handsome… our Brother Wei is really too handsome!”

“Brother Wei, keep going! Your little sister is cheering the loudest for you!”

The Li Clan members stood taller than they had all day. Chests puffed out. Chins lifted. For days, they had listened to the endless mockery, the snide remarks about how their young master was nothing special, how he was overhyped, how he would be exposed the moment he faced real talent.

Every word had stung.

Now?

Every single one of those insults was being repaid with interest by the sight of Fang Tian spitting blood on the white stone.

Pride surged through them like wildfire. This was their young master. Their Li Wei.

Across the ring, the Lingyin City candidates were a study in frozen shock.

Mouths hung slightly open. Eyes wide and unblinking. Several had unconsciously taken half a step backward, as though the ring itself had become dangerous.

Fang Tian… was knocked back?

The same Fang Tian whose one-line Rush had been called “unblockable” by their own seniors? The same Fang Tian who had laughed while sending Fengyue’s best flying?

And he had been sent flying by a single, ordinary-looking punch?

No glowing qi aura. No shouted technique name. Just… force.

Raw, overwhelming force.

“Li Wei…” Fang Tian finally managed to rise to one knee. His left arm pressed hard against his side, face pale beneath the streaks of blood. He glared up at Ryan with eyes that smoldered like coals. “That’s your name, right?”

Ryan tilted his head slightly. “You remembered. Good.”

Fang Tian’s jaw clenched so hard the muscles jumped.

“How did you do it?” His voice came out low, rough, barely controlled. “How did you break my movement?”

Ryan raised one eyebrow, looking at him like he’d asked the most obvious question in the world.

“Isn’t it obvious?” he said lightly. “I’m simply stronger than you.”

The words landed like a slap.

Fang Tian’s pupils contracted. A vein throbbed violently at his temple. The fury in his chest surged so violently he tasted fresh blood at the back of his throat. He swallowed it down through sheer force of will.

“You’re arrogant beyond belief,” he hissed. “Do you really think breaking my move once means you’re above me? Naive! Fan Wei thought the same thing. And what happened to him?” A cruel, twisted smile pulled at his bloodied lips. “He was crushed beneath my Sky-rank martial art. Completely and utterly broken.”

Ryan exhaled once through his nose—a small, almost bored sound.

“You’ll find out soon enough whether I’m naive or not,” he said calmly, “if you stop talking like a wounded dog and actually start fighting.”

The casual insult cut deeper than any blade.

Li Wujie’s earlier strike had stung. The crowd’s jeers had irritated him. But this—this complete, unruffled indifference from Ryan—was something else entirely.

It made his blood boil.

Fang Tian slowly rose the rest of the way to his feet. His posture was still slightly crooked from the pain in his ribs, but the killing intent rolling off him was thick enough to taste.

“So confident after one lucky exchange?” he muttered under his breath, more to himself than anyone else. “Fine. Let’s see how long that arrogance lasts.”

He locked eyes with Ryan.

“Li Wei,” he said, voice cold and deliberate, “do you dare take another move from me?”

Ryan’s smile didn’t waver. “Bring it,” he answered without the slightest hesitation.

Fang Tian’s eyes narrowed to dangerous slits. “Good.” His voice dropped to a near whisper. “Then don’t blame me when you die.”

Ryan’s reply came instantly, light and mocking. “If you have such an ability in the first place…”

“Hmph!”

Fang Tian snorted once—sharp, furious—and the air around him suddenly changed.

The qi that had been flickering faintly around his body now surged violently, coiling into dark, razor-sharp streams. His muscles tensed. His stance shifted.

This time, he wasn’t going to charge blindly.

This time… he was going all out.

He possessed two powerful martial arts. One was the Sky-rank middle-grade technique he had been using repeatedly. The other was his true killing move, the Sky-rank high-grade martial art that had defeated Fan Wei before: The Flying Thunder Kick.

Both techniques relied on explosive forward momentum, concentrating all the force of the charge into a single devastating strike.

One-Line Rush unleashed power through the fist.

The Flying Thunder Kick is unleashed through the leg.

Though similar in principle, the difference in power was enormous.

If One-Line Rush had a power of one hundred, then the Flying Thunder Kick had a power of three hundred. A full three times stronger.

Moreover, unlike One-Line Rush, which could only go straight and couldn’t change direction midway, Flying Thunder Kick had no such limitation. As long as Fang Tian built enough momentum, he could strike however he pleased.

“Die!”

“Flying Thunder Kick!”

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep