Chapter 190: Descending Head Master

The battle continues; Jiang Hailong's Eight Extremities Fist is fierce and imposing, striking in all directions, and Robert's boxing is also sharp, knocking down several opponents in succession, yet in Meng Yifan's eyes, both of their fist techniques are not worth mentioning.

"The punches are too slow, the power is too small." Meng Yifan feels very bored, just like an adult watching kindergarten children fight.

"Huh!" Meng Yifan freezes for a moment; just now, he felt a strand of Spiritual Power sweep across his body, as if wanting to inspect his internal condition, which startles Meng Yifan, causing him to turn his head to look to the left, where an old man in a black robe stands.

This old man has gray hair and a withered face, looking like a candle in the wind, likely to breathe his last at any moment, yet Meng Yifan keenly discovers that deep within the old man's pupils, there seem to be two clusters of emerald-green Ghost Fire.

The Ghost Fire flickers, constantly manifesting various human faces—there are old people, children, men, and women; every face has a ferocious expression, as if they are enduring the agony of being burned by flames, in extreme pain.

These human faces want to escape from the Ghost Fire, but the Ghost Fire seems to have a powerful attractive force, tightly binding these ghost faces within it, and they can only emit bursts of wailing; such a cruel scene makes one's back turn cold and shudder with fear.

Meng Yifan knits his brows and locks eyes with the black-robed old man; the black-robed old man smiles eerily, and the Ghost Fire deep in his pupils emits a green light invisible to the naked eye, rushing toward Meng Yifan's eyes.

"A mental attack? Is he an Immortal Cultivator?" Meng Yifan pauses, not blocking it, letting the two green lights travel along his eyes and drill into his Mud Pill Palace, wanting to see the black-robed old man's methods.

After the green light enters Meng Yifan's Mud Pill Palace, it transforms into two watermelon-sized human heads; these two heads are extremely terrifying, with mouths torn to the earlobes, revealing full sets of fangs, and tongues covered in barbs, looking hair-raising.

"Yi-yi! Ya-ya!" The two heads have very large ears that look like a pair of wings; they flap their wings, making eerie sounds, and charge toward Meng Yifan's Divine Soul, wanting to tear and bite at Meng Yifan's Divine Soul.

"Presumptuous!" Meng Yifan's Divine Soul shouts, and a thunderous roar seems to resound within the Mud Pill Palace; vast Spiritual Power, like a surging ocean, rushes toward the two heads.

The two heads are forced to retreat continuously by the impact of the Spiritual Power; suddenly, the tongues in their mouths, like frogs' tongues, shoot out over ten meters in an instant, flying toward the center of Meng Yifan's Divine Soul's brow.

Meng Yifan's Divine Soul stretches out both hands, grabbing forward as fast as lightning, pinching the tongues of the two heads respectively, as if catching two slippery loaches.

"Yi! Ya!" The two heads struggle desperately, wanting to retract their tongues, but the tongues are as if clamped by tiger pliers and cannot be retracted at all.

"You two, come here." Meng Yifan exerts force with both hands and pulls both heads over; Spiritual Power envelops the heads, and he quickly discovers that these two heads are composed of the resentment of Yin Souls.

Having one's Divine Soul polluted by this kind of resentment leads, at best, to mental derangement and becoming mentally ill, and at worst, to feeling disheartened and believing that life is meaningless, leading one to commit suicide early to find relief.

"Using the resentment of Yin Souls to cultivate; the more painful the Yin Soul, the stronger the resentment. Could this be the cultivation method of Earth's cultivators?"

"In the End of Dharma Era, Heaven and Earth Spiritual Qi is exhausted; techniques that absorb Heaven and Earth Spiritual Qi to cultivate are basically no longer viable. Instead, these crooked and evil techniques can continue to be practiced, but such evil cultivation techniques are ultimately inferior and hard to achieve greatness."

Meng Yifan knits his brows, then suddenly exerts force with both hands, and the two heads are directly crushed; the resentment inside is also purified by Meng Yifan's Spiritual Power.

As the two heads are destroyed, the black-robed old man's body shakes violently, and two lines of blood tears flow from his eyes; he looks at Meng Yifan in disbelief, not expecting that in the mysterious East, there is still a cultivator with such a powerful Divine Soul.

"Master, what is wrong with you?" the two burly men beside the black-robed old man ask worriedly.

The black-robed old man does not answer, but instead presses his right hand to his chest and bows to Meng Yifan, which leaves the burly men beside him dumbfounded and in disbelief.

The black-robed old man is named Shawang Suxi, a very famous Black Sorcerer from the Southern Seas; in various Southeast Asian countries, Shawang Suxi's status is transcendent, and even if a president comes, they must prostrate themselves before him.

In the eyes of his believers, Shawang Suxi is a deity walking on earth; he is high and lofty, not to be profaned by mortals.

At this moment, Shawang Suxi is actually bowing respectfully to the young man not far away, which subverts the cognition of the two burly men; they do not know what identity that person has to be worthy of the Master bowing in salute?

"Hmph!" Meng Yifan lets out a cold snort, ignoring Shawang Suxi; he guesses that this black-robed old man was also attracted by the Ancient Tomb. It seems this Ancient Tomb is truly not simple; he wonders which great power is buried in the Ancient Tomb? And whether there are Immortal Cultivation Techniques and Dharma Treasures buried with them?

The battle continues; the two burly men beside Shawang Suxi practice Ancient Muay Thai, and their strength is very powerful.

Leap Elbow Smash, Twist Body Sweep Leg, Turn Back Elbow Strike Jaw, Flying Elbow Strike—the classic moves of Muay Thai are used by them with great proficiency; any enemy who gets close to them is kicked or punched away in a few moves.

Jiang Hailong looks at these two Muay Thai experts, his expression changing drastically as if facing a formidable enemy; his Eight Extremities Fist is adept at using elbows, emphasizing that where there are hands, there are elbows, and if the hands lose, the elbows do not; he fights with a fierce and rigid fist technique.

However, Ancient Muay Thai is also very adept at elbow techniques, and the fighting style is also very fierce; if the two sides were to fight, it would definitely be a head-on collision. Jiang Hailong is confident he can deal with one Muay Thai expert, but if it were one against two, it would be very strenuous.

"So many fighting experts have come." Robert is also secretly shocked; in this first round of assessment, only ten people pass.

There are two people on Jiang Hailong's side, three people on Shawang Suxi's side, and five people in Robert's team, adding up to exactly ten people; it seems only by eliminating everyone else will it be over.

Shawang Suxi's trio, like Meng Yifan's duo, has no one coming to provoke them, and they will not take the initiative to attack others.

Robert bypasses them and attacks the others frantically; soon, only twelve people remain in the Martial Arts Arena, and the two extra people are both Japanese.

One Japanese man wears a samurai outfit; he is only 1.5 meters tall, but he is very sturdy, and the muscles on his body are like iron, with immense strength.

The other Japanese man wears a white robe and a black court cap on his head; he is very thin, as if a gust of wind could blow him over.

In the battle just now, this Japanese man wearing the court cap did not make a move; everyone who dared to challenge them was defeated by the burly man in the samurai outfit.