Chapter 437 - 155: First Place
The voice faded.
From below, Yang Jing and Yuwen Mingjue ascended the Cyan Qilin Platform from different sides. They each took a position, their eyes locked on one another.
The Main Peak Steward paused. His gaze swept over the two opponents before he continued, "In this battle, the winner will be crowned champion of this Cyan Qilin Battle! The loser will compete with the winner of the upcoming match between Zhao Chong and Qin Wenbao to determine second and third place!"
As soon as his voice fell, the Main Peak Steward turned and walked off the Cyan Qilin Platform, leaving the battlefield entirely to the two men upon it.
In an instant, only Yang Jing and Yuwen Mingjue remained on the high, bluestone-paved platform, facing off from a distance.
At that moment, all eyes were on them.
The disciples surrounding the Cyan Qilin Platform held their breath, staring intently at the stage, afraid they might miss a single detail.
In a pavilion on a distant hill, the four Peak Masters and Si Jiawen also watched without blinking, their gazes fixed upon the pair.
The Elders in the judging area all sat up straighter, their expressions solemn.
Yang Jing’s expression was calm and composed, but a blazing fighting spirit burned in the depths of his eyes.
He took a deep breath. The Inner Strength from his three Transformation-realm martial arts surged like a raging river, all of it converging into his fists.
Without the slightest hesitation, he used the method of the Mountain-Breaking Seal to condense all that Inner Strength into his fist’s momentum, ferociously attacking Yuwen Mingjue.
At this moment, Yang Jing was holding absolutely nothing back, unleashing his full power with a menacing aura.
In his previous fight with Zhao Chong, there was no personal grudge between them. Yang Jing had even clashed head-on for several moves before activating his Body Technique to complement his fist power and unleash his true strength.
Now, however, facing Yuwen Mingjue, Yang Jing held nothing back from the very start.
His Body Technique merged perfectly with the full-power momentum of his Mountain-Breaking Seal. His movements were as fast as a phantom, his fist’s power as heavy as a mountain. The combination of the two was terrifying to the extreme.
Looking at Yuwen Mingjue’s arrogant face, Yang Jing felt an irrepressible rage bubble up, and he wanted nothing more than to smash it flat with a single punch.
Seeing Yang Jing’s thunderous assault, Yuwen Mingjue’s expression instantly turned grave. All traces of his earlier contempt vanished.
He didn’t dare to be careless in the slightest. With a low roar, the Inner Strength in his body surged as he unleashed his signature technique, the All Things Return to Origin Fist. His own fists, carrying the majestic aura of all things converging into one, shot out to meet Yang Jing’s head-on.
The next moment, Yuwen Mingjue felt an incomparably tyrannical power, like a tsunami, crashing down upon him.
The sheer ferocity of the blow was far beyond his expectations. His expression changed drastically, and his heart pounded with shock.
Only now did he truly understand the helplessness Zhao Chong must have felt when facing Yang Jing.
In the face of such an absolute advantage in speed and power, all techniques seemed pale and insignificant.
BANG!
A deafening explosion erupted on the Cyan Qilin Platform.
The moment their fists collided, a powerful shockwave spread in all directions, kicking up a cloud of dust.
Yuwen Mingjue felt his arm go numb, a sharp pain shooting through the webbing of his thumb. He was involuntarily forced to stumble back a step, and the bluestone slab beneath his feet fractured with several fine cracks from the force.
Yang Jing, however, hadn’t moved an inch. At this moment, the formidable power of his Indestructible True Skill was on full display.
His physical body was as if forged from refined steel; Yuwen Mingjue’s fist had almost no effect on him.
Seizing the opening as Yuwen Mingjue staggered back, Yang Jing showed no hesitation. Pushing his Huajin Body Technique to its limit, he shot forward like a white rainbow to press his attack.
Yuwen Mingjue had also cultivated a type of Body Technique, but his skill was only at the Peak of Dark Energy. Compared to Yang Jing’s Body Technique, which was approaching the Peak of Transformation, the difference was like that between the heavens and the earth.
Yang Jing clenched his fists. The Condensed Fist Power of the Mountain-Breaking Seal, carrying the force of wind and thunder, aimed every blow at Yuwen Mingjue’s vital points.
Their fists met flesh. The sound of the blows—THUD, THUD, THUD—was as dense as a drumroll, making one’s eardrums tremble.
Leveraging his superior power and overwhelming speed, Yang Jing completely seized control of the battle, relentlessly pressing his attack and giving Yuwen Mingjue no quarter.
The afterimages of his fists fell like a torrential downpour, an impenetrable curtain of attacks. Yuwen Mingjue could only curl up and miserably raise his arms to block, without the slightest opening to counterattack.
At first, Yuwen Mingjue could barely hold on. But after a mere fifteen or sixteen moves, his arms were numb and his blood was churning in his veins. He was on the verge of collapse.
Of those fifteen or sixteen moves, he had only managed to block twelve. The remaining fists either smashed solidly into his shoulder and waist or grazed past his brocade robes, leaving bloody gashes behind.
Yuwen Mingjue felt as if his own knuckles were about to shatter from the force. His arms ached so badly he could barely lift them. His fine robes were torn to shreds by the wind from the punches, and his body was covered in bloody cuts of varying depths. He was an utterly wretched sight.
He looked up in disbelief at Yang Jing, whose offense was like a relentless tide, and his eyes filled with sheer horror.
’How is Yang Jing this strong?’
Just a short while ago, he had been sneering at Zhao Chong for being so weak, for not even lasting fifty moves against Yang Jing. But now, fighting him firsthand, he was shocked to realize it wasn’t that Zhao Chong was weak—it was that Yang Jing was far, far too strong!
A monstrous wave of indignation washed over Yuwen Mingjue’s heart.
For this Cyan Qilin Battle, he had secretly paid a steep price to persuade those two freaks, Gao Yang and Xu Ziqiang, to withdraw from the competition.
He had planned to seize this opportunity to take the top spot, prove his potential to his clan, and solidify his own status.
But now, the glory that had been within his grasp was about to be snatched away by Yang Jing. How could he possibly accept that?!