The deep, grinding shudder that passed through the arena complex was a promise of violence. From the deepest, most secure gate, the sound of massive, clinking chains and guttural shouts echoed, a symphony of strain as cultivators and workers fought to contain something immense.
The gate, which had admitted the previous two beasts, did not simply open. It groaned in protest, its reinforced spirit-metal frame bending outward as if struck from within. A wave of dense, earthen pressure flooded the arena, a palpable force that made the very air heavy and hard to breathe, tasting of crushed stone and ancient loam.
The Mountain-Crusher Ape stepped through.
It was not a beast; it was a landform given wrathful life. A wall of muscle and stone-like hide the color of a dried riverbed, seamed with deep cracks that pulsed with a dull, subterranean light. It stood eleven feet tall, its shoulders a shelf of living rock. Its arms were thicker than ancient tree trunks, ending in fists of fused bone and rock that scraped against the marble tiles as it moved. Its eyes burned with a dull, predatory yellow from beneath a heavy brow of ossified flesh. It did not roar; it released a low, continuous growl that vibrated deep in the chest of every onlooker, the sound of boulders grinding together in the heart of a landslide.
A wave of pure, primal terror washed over the spectators. The earlier gasps and debates were utterly silenced, replaced by a frozen, breathless dread.
"By the heavens..." a disciple whispered, the sound swallowed by the ape's oppressive aura.
"The Mountain-Crusher... they actually released it..." another breathed, his face ashen. "That thing can shatter a Foundation Establishment disciple's guard like kindling!"
The arrogant Rustless Blade disciple had gone completely pale, all his earlier bravado extinguished. The minor elders watched with grim, solemn faces, their professional assessment now layered with genuine concern. This was no longer a test; it was an execution.
The elder in plum robes was on her feet again, but this time her fervent smile was gone, replaced by a mask of stark anxiety. Her knuckles were white where she gripped the railing.
As the ape took another earth-shaking step into the arena, a team of workers, moving with practiced haste and visible fear, scurried into the opposite side of the pit. They quickly and efficiently hooked chains to the corpses of the Umbra-Shriek and the Mirage-Weaver Lynx, dragging the broken forms out through a smaller service gate, clearing the stage for the main event. Their eyes were wide, darting between the massive ape and the solitary figure standing before it.
Lin Feng did not acknowledge their presence. All of his previous intensity—the analytical sharpness, the arrogant smirk—condensed and collapsed inward, forging into a single point of cold, sharp focus. This was beyond technique, beyond puzzles.
'A fucking ape,' he thought, his eyes narrowing to slits of cold, sharp focus. The void-like flames around his eyes flickered in response to his rising anticipation. 'Can I take it? It doesn't matter. Beating the shit out of this thing would feel… profoundly satisfying.'
The air around him grew cold, a pocket of winter forming in the oppressive earthen atmosphere. And for the first time, his internal storm became visible to all. Faint, wispy tendrils of black Void Qi, like dark, ethereal flame, ignited around his eyes, casting his handsome features in a sinister light. More tendrils licked across his knuckles, wreathing his fists in a haze of annihilating darkness. It was not a controlled technique, but a visible, dangerous leak of the impossible power raging inside its glass prison.
The ape's glowing yellow eyes fixed on the source of the chilling void. It lowered its head, and the grinding growl in its chest deepened into a challenge.
The stage was set.
The Mountain-Crusher Ape moved. It was not fast, but its movements were crushing and inevitable, like a landslide given purpose. It swung a fist in a wide, obliterating arc, a mass of fused bone and rock that could reduce a stone watchtower to gravel.
Lin Feng didn't just dodge; he flowed under the blow, his body a masterpiece of efficient motion, the air whistling where the fist passed inches above his head. He counter-attacked instantly, his body uncoiling like a spring. A spinning heel kick, perfect in its form and power, slammed into the side of the beast's knee.
THUD.
The sound was that of a maul striking ancient timber. It was the perfect technique, delivered with flawless precision.
The Ape's leg did not buckle. It didn't even grunt. It simply stopped its advance and turned its head slowly to look down at him, its glowing yellow eyes showing only a dull, profound annoyance.
Lin Feng landed smoothly, a flicker of pure, unadulterated irritation tightening the skin around his eyes. His jaw set, the expression not of amusement, but of a solver facing a deeply annoying problem.
'Oh, don't you start,' he thought, the internal monologue laced with a kind of insane amusement. 'Isn't having this ridiculous, hulking size already a massive cheat code? What, did the heavens run out of balanced character templates? This ape has even got physical immunity! What kind of pay-to-win nonsense is this?'
He rolled his shoulders, the wispy tendrils of void qi gone for now, unnoticed and uncared for. The storm was contained, leaving only the weapon of his body.
'Anyway... let's find a fault.'
The Ape swiped again, a backhanded blow meant to swat him into paste. Lin Feng ducked and weaved, his movements a blur. He closed the distance in the attack's wake, landing a blistering three-hit combination on its ribs—jab, cross, palm strike.
The sounds were three dull, solid THUMPS, like beating a giant's war drum. The stone-like hide was utterly unmarked.
The beast ignored the strikes completely, as if they were insect bites. Its other arm came around in a backhand that caught only the space he had just occupied, but the wind pressure from the miss was a physical force, tearing at Lin Feng's robes and whipping his hair back.
He was a rain of perfect strikes against an unyielding mountain. And the mountain was beginning to find the rain irritating.
The Ape, its dull annoyance finally boiling over into impatience, changed its tactic. It didn't try to grab him. It feinted a ponderous punch with its right fist, a obvious, telegraphed move meant to draw Lin Feng's evasion.
Then, with a shocking burst of speed for its size, it dropped its immense weight and slammed both fists into the arena floor.
The world detonated. A wave of pure force, carrying shards of marble like ballista fire, radiated outwards, turning the solid arena floor into a cratered wasteland in an instant. Lin Feng, caught mid-movement, was flung off his feet like a leaf in a typhoon. He landed hard on the broken ground, the air driven from his lungs, and had to roll desperately to avoid a falling chunk of rubble the size of a small table.
As he pushed himself up, grit and blood in his mouth from a bitten cheek, the Ape was already there. Its shadow fell over him, blotting out the light. A massive foot, wide as a shield, stamped down where his head had been a fraction of a second before, crushing stone to powder.
Lin Feng rolled again, his movements losing their flawless grace under the relentless assault. But the beast's follow-up was too fast, too overwhelming. A glancing blow from the back of its hand, a casual, almost lazy swipe, caught him across the shoulder.
The impact was not like being struck by a fist. It was like being hit by a runaway siege cart.
The force lifted him and sent him skidding ten feet across the jagged ground. His shoulder screamed in white-hot protest, the joint wrenching, the flesh and muscle beneath already blooming into a deep, ugly bruise that was visible even through his robes. He spat a mouthful of coppery blood onto the stones.
High above, the reactions were a symphony of horror.
"NO!" The cry came from the Cerulean Cloud disciples, their hands flying to their mouths.
The Rustless Blade disciple watched, his earlier fear now a grim, vindicated satisfaction. "I told you! Arrogance leads to a grave!"
On the walkway, Mo Yun's brush had frozen above his scroll. All calculations had ceased. His face was pale, his analytical mind unable to process the sheer, brutal disparity of power. This was no longer data; it was a massacre.
Jian Nian had taken an involuntary step forward, his body tense, his usual stoicism shattered. He wasn't seeing a fight; he was seeing an inevitable crushing, and something in him rebelled against it.
Shi Jian, the massive disciple, watched with his arms still crossed, but his brow was furrowed. There was no respect in this. This was not a contest of strength; it was a demonstration of overwhelming, unfair power. His stony expression was one of deep disapproval.
The Ape straightened, ignoring the horrified spectators. It raised its fists to the sky and brought them down upon its own chest in a brutal, rhythmic POUNDING—BOOM. BOOM. The sound was a vulgar, mocking challenge, the beat of a conqueror celebrating its superiority.
It lowered its head, its glowing yellow eyes fixed on the prone form of Lin Feng, and released that low, grinding growl once more. It was the sound of a mountain preparing to bury something that had dared to annoy it.
Lin Feng's expression didn't change. His face remained a mask of cold, unwavering focus, even as a trickle of blood traced from his lip. But his jaw tightened, the muscle flexing minutely.
'It's toying with me,' he thought, the internal voice a glacier of cold fury. 'Good. That makes this more satisfying.'
His strategy shifted instantly. He abandoned all attempts at powerful, damaging strikes. They were useless against the beast's natural armor. Instead, he became a ghost. A specter of pure, focused annoyance.
He darted in as the Ape took a earth-shaking step, driving a sharp, precise kick into the back of its massive knee joint. He didn't wait to see if it had an effect; he was already gone, a pale-grey blur twisting away from a wild, frustrated grab that pulverized the space he'd just occupied.
The Ape's low, grinding growls became louder, layered with a new, sharp note of irritation. Its patient, crushing pace shattered. Annoyance turned to frustration, frustration to rage. It began to swing with wild, devastating blows, each one capable of crumpling siege shields like parchment. It overextended, its attacks becoming less about precision and more about unleashing raw, obliterating power.
The arena was systematically destroyed around them. Craters pocked the marble floor. Chunks of stone were sent flying like shrapnel with every missed strike. The air filled with dust and the sound of relentless, thunderous impacts.
"He's... he's baiting it!" a disciple from the Black Tortoise clan whispered, her silver eyes wide with disbelief. "He's making it waste its strength!"
"Insane," her companion breathed. "Absolutely insane. One mistake and he's paste."
Lin Feng was a blur of motion, a masterclass in evasion under impossible pressure. But he was tiring. His lungs burned with the effort of drawing breath in the dust-choked, qi-heavy air. Every dodge was a fraction slower, a hair's breadth closer to disaster.
Another wild, backhanded swing from the Ape. Lin Feng flowed under it, but the wind pressure and a stray piece of flying debris altered his trajectory just enough. The Ape's massive fist, sheathed in rock and bone, grazed his ribs.
A sharp, stabbing pain lanced through his side. He felt a distinct, sickening pop. Not broken, but a rib was badly bruised, maybe cracked. He landed awkwardly, a grunt of pain finally escaping his controlled composure, and had to immediately throw himself into a desperate roll to avoid being crushed by a descending fist.
The Ape, confident in its overwhelming superiority and seeing its opponent falter, saw no need to activate any deeper qi abilities or the full, fearsome potential of its earthen shield. This irritating, fragile thing was not a threat. It was prey to be pummeled into the ground. Its yellow eyes glowed with simple, furious intent. The toy had developed a sharp edge, and it was time to break it.
Seeing an opening born of the beast's own raging frustration, Lin Feng committed. As the Ape overextended on a wild, haymaker punch that tore through the air where he had been, Lin Feng didn't dodge away. In a move of supreme, calculated danger, he ducked inside its reach, entering the killing zone where those tree-trunk arms could not easily retaliate.
He unleashed a furious, close-quarters barrage into the same spot on the beast's lower torso—a rapid-fire series of punches and elbows driven by perfect body mechanics and sheer, stubborn will. They were attacks meant to harass, to sting, to further enrage. Most were just physical impacts, THUD. THUD. The sound of flesh and bone protesting against unyielding stone.
The Ape, infuriated by the stinging blows, roared and swung its other arm in a wild, horizontal punch meant to grind him into the wall.
This time, Lin Feng didn't just dodge.
As the massive, rock-sheathed fist blurred toward him, he pivoted on his heel. Instead of retreating, he met the blow head-on. His own fist, wreathed only in his own defiant will, shot forward to intercept the colossus.
It was a suicide move.
But as his knuckles flew toward their inevitable shattering, something within him answered his absolute, unyielding focus.
Unbidden, the Void Qi flared. It did not glow; it devoured the light around it, a flickering corona of absolute blackness that wreathed his fist like a shroud of dying stars. The air around it seemed to warp and thin, as if reality itself recoiled from the point of impact.
The two fists connected.
The sound was not a crack of bone, nor a dull thud of impact. It was a deep, wet THUMP that was felt more than heard, a sound that spoke of something fundamental being struck.
For a heartbeat, nothing happened. Then, the Ape's immense balance, which had seemed as immutable as a mountain, was disturbed. It wasn't a stumble or a fall, but a profound, unsettling lurch, as if the earth itself had shifted slightly beneath its feet. A low grunt of pure shock escaped its throat—the first sound of genuine surprise it had made. This was not the annoyance of a gnat; this was the disconcerting sensation of the ground failing.
The beast tried to stabilize itself, its muscles coiling to correct the unexpected shift in its foundation.
Then, the pain arrived.
It was a delayed, deep, and profoundly wrong sensation that lanced up its arm from the point of impact. It was not the sharp agony of a broken bone or torn muscle. It was a cold, nullifying ache, as if the very flow of strength and vital energy in its limb had been disrupted, frozen, or simply erased. No blood welled to the surface. Its hide showed not a single mark. But the limb felt… hollowed. Weakened. The earthen qi that naturally fortified its body had faltered at the point of contact, disrupted by the annihilating touch of the void.
But the hollowed, nullified feeling lasted only a handful of seconds—five, perhaps ten at most. Like a river violently dammed that then inevitably bursts through, the beast's immense natural qi surged back into the limb, flooding the unnatural void with raw, earthen power. The profound wrongness receded, the cold ache fading as the familiar, crushing strength returned to its fist. The brief window of fragility slammed shut, leaving the limb once more a weapon of stone and fury.
And from the settling dust, a sound cut through the ape's rumbling confusion.
Lin Feng stood amidst the rubble, his chest heaving slightly, a thin trail of blood marking his lip. But his head was tilted back, and a cold, taunting laugh echoed in the shattered arena.
"HAHAHAHA.."
It was not a laugh of joy, but of dark, triumphant discovery. A predator that had finally found the chink in the mountain's armor. A razor-edged smirk finally split his features, the expression of a predator who had found the fatal weakness.
His dark eyes, sharp and blazing with a new, terrifying light, locked onto the ape's glowing yellow orbs. His voice, when it came, was a blade of ice, meant to slice and provoke.
"SO THERE IS A WAY TO DEFEAT U HUH.." he called out, the words ringing with absolute certainty. "NOW. I CAN GUARANTEE... I'D NOT LOSE."
The effect on the spectators was instantaneous and electric.
A collective, shuddering gasp swept through the terraces. They had all seen it—the flicker of absolute blackness around his fist, the way the ape had lurched not from impact, but from something far more profound and terrifying.
"The rumors... they were true..." a disciple stammered, his face pale. "That energy... it's not of this world!"
The group of female disciples from the Cerulean Cloud Clan clutched each other, their earlier fear transforming into rapturous fervor. "I knew it! I knew he wouldn't lose!" one cried, her eyes shining. "How could someone so devastatingly handsome ever be defeated? He's perfect!"
On the walkway, Mo Yun's brush snapped in his hand, forgotten. All pretense of analysis was gone, replaced by pure, unvarnished shock. He stared at his ink-stained fingers, then back at the arena, his mind reeling. "It doesn't just attack the body... it attacks the cultivation itself..."
Jian Nian's breath hitched. His entire body was rigid, his usual stoicism shattered into a thousand pieces. He wasn't just seeing power; he was witnessing a fundamental law of the world being broken, and it ignited a desperate, hungry fire in his soul.
Shi Jian, the massive disciple, slowly uncrossed his arms. The stony disapproval on his face was gone, replaced by a look of deep, solemn respect. He gave a single, slow nod. This was not unfair. This was a revelation.
In the control niche, the Arena Master took a stumbling step back from the observation portal, his single eye wide with a fear he hadn't felt in decades. "By the Sword Saint's grace... what has the Silent Blade unleashed upon this sect?"
The minor elders were a chorus of stunned whispers, but now with distinct voices.
"It didn't deflect the qi... it erased it!" one elder cried out, his voice trembling with horror. "This is not cultivation; it is blasphemy against the natural order!"
"Blasphemy or not," another countered, her eyes wide with calculating awe, "consider the tactical implication. Any guard, any defense fueled by qi... is meaningless against that. The strategic value is... terrifying."
"Strategic value?" a third shrieked, his face ashen. "You fool! That kind of power will attract attention we cannot handle! It's a death sentence for this sect!"
The elder in the plum robes was not panicked. She had sunk to her knees, her fervent devotion transformed into a religious ecstasy. She was weeping openly, her hands clasped in prayer. "I knew... I knew you were a scripture... a divine punishment... a blessing..."
The Mountain-Crusher Ape had frozen mid-beat. Its yellow eyes, once glowing with predatory confidence, were wide with an animalistic terror far deeper than any pain Lin Feng had inflicted. It took a stumbling step backward, then another, a low whine of absolute submission escaping its throat. The mountain was afraid of the sky falling.
And at the center of the ruined arena, Lin Feng stood firm on the broken ground. The faint, acrid scent of ozone from his void-tainted punch still hung in the air. His body thrummed with a strange, newfound vitality, his spirit feeling unsettlingly full, as if he had taken a single, perfect breath after a lifetime of suffocation.
The ape's shock curdled into pure, unadulterated rage. The brief violation of its innate power was an insult that demanded obliteration. The fight descended into a savage, brutal brawl. No more tactics, no more feints. The enraged beast fought with wild, terrifying strength, its movements made more unpredictable by the lingering wrongness in its injured arm.
Lin Feng became a machine of pain and resolve. He endured. He dodged, his movements a fraction slower, his body screaming in protest. He struck back whenever he could, his blows thudding against the stone hide, doing little more than further enraging the colossus.
He was battered. His body was a canvas of blossoming bruises. Blood trickled in a steady stream from his split lip and a fresh cut on his brow. His breath came in ragged gasps, his will the only fuel keeping him moving.
But the Void Qi did not come. The storm within remained locked in its glass box, refusing his call. He was left with only his flesh and bone against a mountain.
A wild, backhanded swing caught him across the chest. It was a glancing blow, but from the ape, it was like being hit by a runaway boulder. The air exploded from his lungs, and he was thrown backward, skidding through the rubble.
Before he could rise, the ape was on him. A massive hand, swift as a landslide, shot out and closed like a manacle of stone around his ankle.
The world upended.
The ape lifted him with ease and began to swing him through the air like a ragdoll. The force was immense, disorienting. Lin Feng's body was whipped back and forth, the ground and sky swapping places in a dizzying blur. Each change in direction sent a fresh jolt of agony through his battered frame.
'Hmm,' he thought, the observation bizarrely calm amidst the violent whipping. A chunk of rubble rushed toward his face, and he just managed to turn his head, taking the scrape along his cheek instead. 'Who should I blame for this? The qi for being a stubborn bastard? The ape for simply being strong? Or myself for being just a little bit too arrogant today?'
He was swung in a wide, brutal arc, his body parallel to the ground for a terrifying moment.
'Either way,' he mused, a strange sense of clarity settling over him even as his ribs protested another jarring swing, 'this fight is going to be a long one. A very, very long one. After this… let's just go find Mom and sleep on her lap.'
With a final, guttural roar of triumph, the ape released its grip.
Lin Feng was hurled across the length of the shattered arena. He flew through the dusty air, a projectile of broken resolve, before crashing into the far wall in an explosion of pulverized stone. He slid down the cracked surface and landed in a heap amidst the debris, not moving.
Silence hung over the arena for a long moment, broken only by the ape's ragged, triumphant breaths. The dust began to settle around the crater where Lin Feng had landed.
Then, a figure stirred within the rubble.
Slowly, painfully, Lin Feng pushed himself to his feet. His pale grey robe was torn and dusted with powdered stone. With a sharp, deliberate motion, he gripped the collar and ripped the ruined garment from his body, casting it aside to land on the broken tiles.
He stood shirtless in the shattered arena, his torso a map of brutalized flesh—angry red welts, deep purple bruises, and the stark contrast of blood against pale, flawless skin. Yet, the damage could not conceal the powerful, perfectly defined musculature beneath, each line etched with a lethal grace that spoke of a body honed to an impossible degree. His focus had narrowed to a razor's edge, all pretense of boredom gone, replaced by a chilling, absolute seriousness.
A wave of frantic whispers and sharp intakes of breath swept the terraces.
The group of female disciples from the Cerulean Cloud Clan let out a synchronized gasp. One clutched her chest, her knees buckling slightly as she was supported by her friends, her face turning a brilliant, flustered scarlet. "H-he... oh my..."
Even the minor elder in the plum robes jolted, a hand flying to cover her eyes in a gesture of scandalized propriety. But her fingers immediately parted, peeking through the gaps, her face flushed as she watched the scene below with undiminished, fervent intensity.
The fight resumed with a new, desperate ferocity. Lin Feng launched himself forward, a series of blistering kicks and punches aimed at the ape's legs and torso. Most were useless, their impacts swallowed by the beast's dense hide and fortified qi. THUD. THUD. The sounds were hollow, futile.
But one in every five or six strikes landed different.
Unbidden, a wisp of void-black energy would flicker around his fist or foot for a microsecond. It was not a controlled technique, but a leak, a spark from the storm within reacting to his heightened state.
Those strikes did not land with a thud. They landed with a sickening, deep THUMP, and each one left an invisible, internal wound. A patch of the ape's innate earthen qi was devoured, deadening the area from the inside out. The beast's hide showed no mark, but it would flinch, a roar of pain and profound confusion tearing from its throat.
The ape was faring worse internally. Its movements became labored, its powerful swings losing their crushing certainty. It was starting to favor one arm, its roars ragged with a pain it could not understand or locate. It didn't know what was hurting it. It only knew that this fragile, infuriating thing could land touches that felt like a core-deep frostbite.
They broke apart, standing across from each other in the ruined arena, both heaving, their bodies pushed to the absolute brink of collapse. Lin Feng was visibly worse off, his body a testament to punishment. But the ape was not feeling victorious. A deep, unsettling confusion and a growing, internal wrongness plagued it. It no longer fought with rage, but with a wary, pained hesitation. It didn't know which of the human's moves would bring that strange, cold agony, or which of its own attacks would have its power mysteriously siphoned away.
The battle was no longer one of strength, but of terrifying, unpredictable attrition.
The air in the ruined arena was thick with dust, pain, and exhaustion. Both combatants were operating on the last dregs of their strength, their movements heavy and slow. Lin Feng saw an opening, a slight lag in the ape's recovery after a missed swing. He pushed off from the ground with a final, desperate surge of will, his body a projectile of pure resolve.
His fist, guided by instinct alone, flared with a last, fleeting wisp of Void Qi. It was not a conscious command, but a dying ember of the storm within.
The punch connected with the ape's ribs. Not with a thud, but with a wet, sickening CRACK that finally, finally, marred the stone-like hide. A web of fractures spread from the point of impact, and the beast roared, not in rage, but in genuine, shocked agony.
But the victory was pyrrhic. The force of Lin Feng's lunge left him utterly exposed. The ape's counterblow was a purely instinctual, blind swing of its other arm, fueled by pain and fury.
It caught him squarely in the chest.
The impact was absolute. The sound was a dull, final crunch of bone meeting immovable force. Lin Feng was lifted off his feet and thrown backward like a discarded toy. He sailed across the arena, a limp figure against the chaotic backdrop, before slamming into the far wall with a devastating impact that shook the foundation. He slid down the cracked surface, leaving a faint smear of blood, and landed in a broken heap amidst the rubble. He did not move.
For a long moment, there was only the ape's ragged, pained breathing. It turned its massive head, its glowing yellow eyes fixing on the motionless form. A low, grating sound rumbled in its chest—not a roar, but a sound of taunting contempt. Turning its back on Lin Feng's broken form, it began to thump its chest. This was not the wild pounding of before, but a slow, solemn, and deeply arrogant DRUMMING—BOOM… BOOM… BOOM… It was a funeral beat, a declaration that the nuisance had been dealt with.
In the ringing silence that followed the third beat, a whisper, so faint it was almost inaudible, drifted from the pile of rubble.
"Enough..."
A ragged intake of breath.
"I... give up now."
The words were layered with a profound, bone-deep exhaustion, the final admission of a limit reached. His eyes, dark and weary, fluttered closed. The tension fled his broken body, surrendering to the welcoming darkness.
'C'mon, Lin Feng… you can't give up…'
The voice was faint, distant, a ghost from a world of fluorescent lights and humming computers. It wasn't a shout, but a familiar, chiding tone that pulled him into a memory.
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