Chapter 315: This Is No Man—He

The State of Zheng looked to the State of Han for guidance.

But the State of Han never truly trusted Zheng; Zheng had grown too close to the demon clans, utterly devoid of propriety, righteousness, shame, or honor.

Such a nation was brimming with wolfish ambitions.

Han's stance toward Zheng was to use it to contain Liang, but never allow Zheng to grow too strong.

This time, Bian Bian Xinjie's Seal Demon Pearl was meant to guard against Zheng hiding a trick—fearing that one of Zheng's martial academy students might harbor a powerful demon bloodline, something Zheng, with its shamelessness, would not hesitate to do.

Zheng could use a forbidden method to infuse powerful demon bloodlines into martial artists, enabling them to unleash strength surpassing their own rank by one full tier—an eighth-rank martial artist could withstand demon bloodline power equivalent to that of a seventh-rank.

The consequence was that once such an eighth-rank martial artist unleashed the demon power, they would lose their sanity and eventually become nothing but a mindless demon, driven solely by killing instinct.

Other nations could not accomplish this, but Zheng might.

What Bian Bian Xinjie never expected was that this Seal Demon Pearl, prepared to counter Zheng, would be used against Lin Chen.

At the front of the stands, Zheng's elites saw the moment Bian Bian Xinjie crushed the pearl—a cold shadow flashed across their aged faces, but vanished instantly.

"Fourth sister, what is this Seal Demon Pearl?"

Elder Murong Xin, watching the white pearl shattered by Bian Bian Xinjie, wore a look of confusion.

As a princess of Yan, her horizons were high, yet she had never heard of such a treasure as the Seal Demon Pearl.

"The Seal Demon Pearl is a treasure forged through secret methods. So far, only Han can forge it—and even in Han, these pearls are exceedingly rare. Once shattered, for fifteen minutes, all demon power within range will be suppressed."

Elder Murong Shuang explained. Elder Murong Xin frowned: "I didn't expect Han would prepare a Seal Demon Pearl for Lin Chen. Clearly, Han holds him in high regard and has been preparing for this long in advance."

"Pure luck. Han prepared it to guard against Zheng—it just happened to be used on Lin Chen."

Elder Murong Yan's eyes gleamed with wisdom. If Han had been wary of Lin Chen so early, given Han's modus operandi, this ranking tournament would never have proceeded so smoothly—at least during the points stage, Han would have acted.

The Seal Demon Pearl in Bian Bian Xinjie's hand was surely meant for Zheng. For this martial academy ranking tournament, she had deliberately studied the results of the past dozens of tournaments to gather information on Lin Chen.

In one past tournament, Zheng's academy took first place—and in that year, two Zheng martial artists, both eighth-rank, had unleashed power rivaling seventh-rank martial artists.

Yet less than a year after the match, both Zheng academy students were dead.

Zheng concealed the truth, but Yan had spies in Zheng who uncovered that after returning home, those two students had killed several fellow disciples, completely insane, behaving no differently from beasts.

Though since then, Zheng has never again claimed first place, nor has any student exhibited power far beyond their rank, Han must have prepared for it in every tournament. This Seal Demon Pearl may have passed through the hands of several generations of Han academy students before reaching Bian Bian Xinjie.

…

…

"Lin Chen!"

On the arena, Bian Bian Xinjie roared—and suddenly, a thick frost mist surged from his body, instantly obscuring his figure.

Soon, the mist covered more than half the arena, and within ten breaths, the entire arena was shrouded in frost.

Outside the arena, all spectators stared in awe at the mist-covered stage—no wonder Bian Bian Xinjie ranked third on the Heavenly List; his opening move alone was so astonishing.

Everyone knew that by now, Bian Bian Xinjie would no longer underestimate Lin Chen—he would fight with full strength, leaving nothing held back.

The only question was whether Lin Chen still had other cards to play after being deprived of his devastating bow.

"Bian Bian Xinjie will lose."

Elder Murong Yan watched the enveloping mist, her gaze resolute.

"Sixth sister, how can you be so certain?"

Elder Murong Shuang and Elder Murong Xin both turned to Elder Murong Yan—did Lin Chen have another hidden strength?

"Lin Chen's greatest strength has never been his archery."

"If not archery, then what?"

Elder Murong Yan's lips curved into a graceful smile. What was Lin Chen's greatest strength?

His spiritual soul and his body.

She knew well how strong his spiritual soul was—her own soul fragment within the jade pendant had sensed it. And as for his body's strength, she had glimpsed its potential back at Canglan Wu Yuan.

Though she had never witnessed his training firsthand, she had studied it. In her mind, Lin Chen's archery was likely his weakest skill. Bian Bian Xinjie believed that sealing his bow would defeat him—he was gravely mistaken.

Within the frost mist, Lin Chen closed his eyes. His vision was impaired, but impaired vision did not mean he could not sense Bian Bian Xinjie's position.

With his spiritual sense fully extended, he clearly perceived Bian Bian Xinjie's location.

Bian Bian Xinjie moved.

Amid surging frost mist, Bian Bian Xinjie flung open his ten fingers—hundreds of ice spikes shot through the air, each bristling with lethal intent.

As the ice spikes neared, Lin Chen smiled faintly and struck without hesitation.

BOOM!

The moment his palm met the ice spikes, the air compressed into visible ripples—the ice shattered into powder under the violent force.

After striking, Lin Chen did not stop. His figure blurred in place, locking onto Bian Bian Xinjie's position through the swirling mist, and struck again.

How did he find me?

Bian Bian Xinjie's pupils contracted. In this mist, Lin Chen's vision was blocked—how had he located him?

To conceal himself, Bian Bian Xinjie had fired the ice spikes from afar, then immediately shifted position after each shot.

CRASH!

Bian Bian Xinjie punched out in response. As fist met palm, he staggered backward several steps, eyes wide with disbelief—Lin Chen's strength was this immense? His burst power even surpassed his own.

How?

He had reached eighth rank half a year ago; Lin Chen had only just broken into ninth rank a few months prior. How could his strength be so great?

Staggering back, Bian Bian Xinjie frowned and shifted position again—but Lin Chen followed like a shadow, matching his movement the instant it began.

CRASH! CRASH! CRASH!

Outside the arena, spectators heard thunderous impacts echoing continuously, the frost mist surging outward with each collision—they knew the battle was fierce, but could not see a thing.

Yet thirty breaths later, every spectator on the stands—including martial artists from all nations—gasped aloud.

The frost mist vanished abruptly—and as it lifted, they saw a figure stumbling backward toward the arena's edge.

It was Bian Bian Xinjie!

No one expected their first glimpse of the battle to show Bian Bian Xinjie retreating helplessly toward the edge, his hair disheveled, his crown gone, his face hidden beneath tangled locks.

Hiss!

Then, when they saw Lin Chen standing calmly on the arena, many could not help but cry out: "What cultivation art is Lin Chen practicing?"

In the center of the arena, Lin Chen's blood qi boiled like flames, every inch of his skin glowing with bronze luster—the surrounding frost mist had been evaporated by his body's heat.

"Body Tempering Art!"

At the front of the stands, a warrior from another nation spoke with awe—he, as a second-rank martial artist, could clearly discern the source of Lin Chen's bodily anomaly.

Only a martial artist practicing Body Tempering Art could achieve such an effect.

Yet across the nine nations, few martial artists pursued the Body Tempering path—even in great Han, very few chose this route.

This path was not only difficult, but progress was excruciatingly slow.

Other martial artists could enhance their rank through spirit weapons or martial will—but Body Tempering practitioners could only grow stronger by increasing their physical strength.

"This isn't a man—he's a walking furnace."

Many martial artists, sensing Lin Chen's aura, felt their hearts tremble. Had they been in his place, they would have been paralyzed by his presence before even striking.

"Third on the Heavenly List? That's all?"

Lin Chen's voice boomed like thunder. The next instant, a golden light erupted—he vanished from his spot, and reappeared directly before Bian Bian Xinjie.

So fast that most martial artists present, including Bian Bian Xinjie, could not react.

Grabbing Bian Bian Xinjie's arm, Lin Chen twisted his wrist with brutal force—and with a crisp snap of bone, everyone saw Bian Bian Xinjie's entire right arm contorted into a grotesque angle!

CRASH!

Before the eyes of all, Bian Bian Xinjie's body was slammed hard onto the arena floor—the blue stone slabs shattered beneath him, scraping ten zhang along the ground before finally stopping.

On the stone floor, a deep human-shaped groove remained.

The crowd fell utterly silent.

Zheng's martial artists stared at the figure suspended in midair, wondering inwardly—who was the one truly harboring demon blood?

(End of Chapter)