Chapter 51

“One strike? Brother Cang used only one strike to defeat Chen Dahu?”

“This... this is too fast! Isn’t Brother Cang only at Warrior Third Layer?”

“Fool, Warrior Third Layer was over twenty days ago—he’s definitely higher now. I’d guess at least Seventh Layer, maybe even Eighth...”

“Warrior Seventh Layer?! Are you joking? How did Brother Cang’s cultivation advance so fast?”

The disciples from Dorms 175, 176, and 177 stared at Cang Luo in stunned silence, guessing his current cultivation level and how he’d advanced so rapidly.

Among the crowd, Zhao Renwu gazed at Cang Luo with a hint of resentment, though it was subtle and quickly suppressed.

He approached the three overseers with several disciples and asked, “Overseer Liang, what is Brother Cang’s current cultivation level? Was that just luck?”

Before this, Zhao Renwu had been the highest-ranked disciple among the three dorms—the only one at Warrior Sixth Layer.

He always called others “So-and-so Junior,” but just now, he had no choice but to address Cang Luo as “Brother Cang.”

Because Cang Luo had defeated Chen Dahu, while he himself had been beaten by Chen Dahu—this proved his strength was inferior to Cang Luo’s.

On the Martial World Continent, in any sect, seniority was never determined by who entered first, but by strength, which decided status and influence.

Saying “Brother Cang” felt especially awkward to him—even unpleasant...

Overseer Liang was now very pleased. He smiled: “Not luck. It’s perception, control of power, and confidence in one’s own strength—all combined.”

“Only then could he remain calm under Chen Dahu’s assault and counter with the force of a feather deflecting a thousand catties.”

He added, “As for Cang Luo’s cultivation level... heh, he’s now at Warrior Seventh Layer!”

Upon hearing this, the disciples’ eyes nearly popped out—their earlier guesses had been correct, and they’d vastly underestimated.

Before the match, everyone had joked that if Cang Luo reached Warrior Fifth Layer, he might have a slim chance against Chen Dahu.

But now, Cang Luo was Warrior Seventh Layer—and he felled Chen Dahu with one strike. This was utterly beyond everyone’s expectations.

At this moment, everyone staring at Cang Luo wondered: How had Brother Cang advanced from Warrior Third Layer to Seventh Layer in just over twenty days?

Overseer Liang had the same question, but he quickly understood.

He believed that at twenty-two, with Warrior Third Layer cultivation, Cang Luo’s dantian must have held immense primordial energy—now, it was a case of accumulated strength bursting forth, rapidly condensing the stored energy into an energy wheel...

While the disciples discussed Cang Luo’s cultivation, Chen Dahu struggled to his feet, having heard Overseer Liang’s words.

This waste is now Warrior Seventh Layer?

Impossible!

Chen Dahu refused to believe it. He roared, activated Leopard Shadow Leg and Tiger Subduing Fist, and charged at Cang Luo again.

This time, he intended to kill Cang Luo—punishment afterward didn’t matter anymore.

Cang Luo saw this, sneered, remained rooted in place, and activated Dynamic Tracking, observing Chen Dahu’s movements with perfect clarity.

Only when Chen Dahu closed in did Cang Luo shift slightly, effortlessly evading the attack, then slapped Chen Dahu’s back and sent him flying—though Zhang Zhishi caught him mid-air, signaling surrender.

After landing, Chen Dahu tried to attack again. Zhang Zhishi frowned and knocked him unconscious.

He tossed Chen Dahu to other disciples, then raised an eyebrow and said, “Brother Liang, we concede this round. But you sent a Warrior Seventh Layer disciple—this is bullying the weak!”

Overseer Liang chuckled: “Didn’t the rules state the match ends when one side yields? Send another challenger if you wish.”

The match rules had been agreed upon by both sides. Zhang Zhishi’s side had a Warrior Seventh Layer disciple.

Liang, Wang, and Liu’s side had only one Warrior Sixth Layer disciple among them—their highest.

But they had more people: twenty-four disciples total, excluding those on external quests; now, with Cang Luo’s arrival, twenty-five.

So they agreed on this seemingly fair rule: all disciples from both sides could enter the arena in rotation—a wheel battle—until one side could no longer fight or yielded.

Zhang Zhishi said nothing more. He turned to a sharp-eyed disciple behind him and ordered: “Zhang Tao, you’re up.”

Zhang Tao, a muscular figure, nodded slightly, stepped onto the arena, and locked eyes with Cang Luo—he was the only Warrior Seventh Layer disciple under Zhang Zhishi’s command in Dorm Geng 45.

He hadn’t planned to fight this match, but an unexpected rival had appeared—another Warrior Seventh Layer disciple. Now he had no choice.

Zhang Tao crossed his arms, his expression cold, his solid frame standing firm like a mountain, as heavy as Mount Tai.

Though shorter than Chen Dahu, his muscles were far more solid.

Warrior-level disciples primarily refine their bodies, absorbing primordial energy to forge flesh and bone from within.

Though he was only one layer higher than Chen Dahu, his strength alone was double—let alone primordial energy reserves. Their power levels were incomparable.

Zhang Tao bowed to Cang Luo: “Zhang Tao, Warrior Seventh Layer, Tongzhou Liuyun County.”

Cang Luo raised an eyebrow, returned the bow: “Cang Luo, Warrior Seventh Layer, Tongzhou Earth Village!”

After the formalities, Overseer Liang glanced at Cang Luo and saw his calm confidence. He exhaled in relief and shouted: “Match ends on point of contact—no fatalities! Begin!”

After Overseer Liang declared the match started, neither Zhang Tao nor Cang Luo moved immediately. They studied each other—equal cultivation, no room for rash action.

The watching disciples also stared, debating who would win.

On Liang’s side, Liu Xuande whispered: “Brother Cang, do you think Brother Cang will win this time?”

Cang Feng shook his head silently. Li Zhan shouted loudly: “Of course Brother Cang wins! What’s there to doubt? Can Zhang Tao defeat Chen Dahu in one strike? Brother Cang can!”

Some disciples nodded in agreement—they believed Cang Luo would win—but others voiced dissent.

Beside Zhao Renwu stood a disciple who resembled him sevenfold—Zhao Renli, his clan brother.

Zhao Renli glanced at Cang Luo, then sneered: “Not so sure. Equal cultivation doesn’t mean equal strength. Do you know what technique Zhang Tao cultivates?”

“What technique?” the disciples asked curiously.

Zhao Renli grinned with malicious delight: “Yellow-grade Superior heart method: Xuan Lie Jing. Yellow-grade Superior martial art: Kong Kong Jin. Yellow-grade Middle-grade body technique: Zhen Xing Bu.”

“Yellow-grade Superior technique?!”

The disciples gasped. Someone asked in confusion: “Where did he get a Yellow-grade Superior technique? Bought it? Surely not exchanged for sect contribution points?”

Zhao Renli subtly pointed at Zhang Zhishi across the field and whispered: “Zhang Tao is Zhang Zhishi’s nephew. Now you understand?”

“Ah, so that’s it...”

The disciples looked at Zhang Tao with envy. As common-born warriors, they’d received only one Yellow-grade Inferior technique for free upon entering the outer sect—no other way to obtain new ones.

Buy? No money.

Their monthly earnings barely covered their assigned task quotas.

Exchange for sect contribution points? Impossible.

With their strength, the tasks they could take were the lowest rank—after a year’s accumulation, they might afford a Yellow-grade Middle technique.

So unless something changed, they’d be stuck with Yellow-grade Inferior techniques until Warrior Ninth Layer—only upon reaching Martial General would they receive a free new technique.

But even then, only Yellow-grade Middle. Yellow-grade Superior? Only available for free at Martial Master level.

After a wave of envy, someone blurted: “Then... isn’t Brother Cang doomed to lose?”

Zhao Renli smiled but said nothing, exchanged a glance with Zhao Renwu, then turned back to the duel.

On the arena, Cang Luo had heard Zhao Renli’s words. He found it odd—Zhao Renli and the others seemed to wish for his defeat.

Hmph! Is Yellow-grade Superior technique really that impressive?

Should I tell you I cultivate the Earth-grade Superior heart method, “Mie Ti Shen Gong”?

Even though I’ve only mastered two layers, it’s hundreds of times stronger than Yellow-grade techniques!

I killed Warrior Eighth Layer Chen Dalong. This guy is only Warrior Seventh Layer—how could I lose?

Since someone wants me to lose, I’ll activate Mie Ti Shen Gong fully and crush him outright!

But... I have no grudge against him. Crushing him so easily isn’t right, is it?

People have pride. Won’t this make an enemy?

Cang Luo wanted to show off, to impress—but hesitated, fearing he’d create a bitter rival.

After thinking it over, he decided: a narrow victory. Make it hard-won. Give him face. Maybe they’d become friends—after all, enemies are often made through battle.

As Cang Luo pondered how to let Zhang Tao lose with dignity...

Zhang Tao suddenly stepped forward, his feet sinking as if weighted by a thousand catties, advancing with deliberate, thunderous strides.

Though his speed was slow, Cang Luo felt an unstoppable momentum—like a war chariot.

Crush cities, flatten mountains!

Cang Luo grew serious, raising his estimation of Zhang Tao. His speed was slow, and Cang Luo’s Dynamic Tracking could easily dodge—but dodging would put him at a disadvantage.

So Cang Luo decided: no evasion. He’d meet force with force. He secretly activated Thunderclap Palm, preparing to strike.

Seconds later, Zhang Tao stomped forward, each step leaving a deep imprint, arriving before Cang Luo. Seeing Cang Luo didn’t dodge, Zhang Tao frowned slightly—but didn’t overthink it.

Fixing his gaze on Cang Luo, Zhang Tao slowly raised his right arm, clenched his fist, and growled: “Kong Kong Jin!” Then thrust his fist straight at Cang Luo’s chest.

The punch looked weak, ordinary—but Cang Luo felt as if facing a deadly threat. Before the fist reached him, a crushing wind surged toward his face.

Cang Luo knew this punch was no joke. No hesitation—he unleashed his prepped Thunderclap Palm instantly.

“Boom!”

Fist met palm. A dull crash echoed. Zhang Tao stood firm, unmoving as a mountain. Cang Luo trembled, his right arm shaking as he staggered backward several steps.

Once stabilized, Cang Luo was slightly startled—he realized Zhang Tao’s Kong Kong Jin differed from Chen Dalong’s techniques.

Not because it was stronger. In raw power, Zhang Tao was far weaker than Chen Dalong.

Yesterday in the Beast Forest, when Cang Luo clashed Thunderclap Palm with Chen Dalong’s Dragon Subduing Palm, he’d been flung over ten meters.

Just now, he’d only retreated a few steps. Clearly, Zhang Tao was weaker than Chen Dalong.

Yet—when Cang Luo’s palm met Zhang Tao’s Kong Kong Jin, a strange “force” had penetrated his right arm, damaging the muscle tissue.

This was the Yellow-grade Superior martial art: Kong Kong Jin? “Break the Void” force?

Cang Luo realized he faced a true rival. Without activating Mie Ti Shen Gong, victory would be difficult.

But this was exactly what he wanted—to avoid revealing he hadn’t used his full strength.