Chapter 361: Conceding: A Master and Disciple's Mutual Destruction

Two clouds of dust in the arena twisted together, the sound of fists and feet colliding like thunder, the ground trembling faintly.

In a Martial Master-level duel, once it escalates to a life-or-death struggle, the intensity far exceeds that of ordinary martial artists exchanging blows.

Although Mao Laoliu was aged and wounded, he held a breath of indomitable spirit in his chest; his strikes were fierce, vigorous, and unstoppable.

Wherever his fists and feet passed, the ground was gouged into trenches, and everything protruding nearby was struck and pulverized.

"Vajra, it truly lives up to its reputation as a top-tier fist style of Gongliang City."

"Mao Laoliu is also formidable; he managed to force his way through 8 trials, and this is while lacking food, drink, medicine, and medical care."

"It's a pity, this trial will be hard to pass—that is Pei Li!"

Pei Li, nicknamed Jade Shell Golden Turtle, was commendable despite his humble origins; not only was his fist technique superb, but he also conducted himself with great integrity.

He was a rare talent among the rebel army, a hero who stood out in troubled times.

The fist style Pei Li practiced was called "Golden Body Turtle Form Fist," which had no weaknesses in either defense or offense.

Facing Mao Laoliu's increasingly fierce attacks, a multicolored light bloomed and wrapped around his entire body, his arms swaying slightly at his sides, defending with watertight precision.

"Breaking Gold and Shattering Jade Intercepting Palm."

The pores on Mao Laoliu's palms exuded wisps of baleful energy, instantly swelling like bear paws as he slapped toward Pei Li.

He had not yet reached the level of an Intermediate Martial Master and could not change his physical body at will; this effect was achieved by inflating his body with abundant Qi and blood.

In front of Pei Li, the air was sliced to pieces; the power of the single palm was like seven or eight sharp blades intersecting as they struck.

His gaze turned solemn, "Vajra is well-deserved of its reputation."

To be able to witness this killing move made it worth ignoring the dissuasion of those around him to participate in the 9th of the Ten Trials.

A martial artist like Mao Laoliu was a standout among the masses, and sparring with him was of great benefit to himself.

"Dripping Water Turtle Form, blades and axes cannot touch the body."

Pei Li's throat gurgled as he suddenly shrank his torso, presenting a water-drop silhouette from head to toe to meet the opponent's lethal strike.

The palm wind, capable of slicing gold and jade, swept across, but as it landed on Pei Li, it slid off automatically like raindrops on a lotus leaf.

The killing move of the Vajra Palm was powerful, but his method of countering it was equally eye-catching.

Pei Li's figure slid to the side like a water droplet, his arms vibrating like fan-shaped wings, closing in to attack Mao Laoliu's ribs.

Combining offense and defense, with offense hidden within defense—this could only be done by a master.

Mao Laoliu did not dodge, charging straight forward, only to have two bloody furrows plowed into him by those arms, his flesh turned outward.

After a few hurried rounds, Mao Laoliu was already injured.

The watching martial artists didn't say it aloud, but they all felt that Pei Li was taking advantage of someone in a desperate state; even if he won, it would not be honorable.

They thought this, but everyone was shrewd, and no one would say it openly.

Jade Shell Golden Turtle Pei Li was currently the talk of the town; everyone was scrambling to curry favor with him, so who would dare offend him?

Zhou You watched quietly; if Mao Laoliu were in his normal state, the fight would not be playing out like this.

A hero in his twilight years—what a pity!

"Old Master, forgive me!"

Pei Li suddenly shouted, five-colored flowing light pouring down like a waterfall, surging into two streams of air.

His arms moved in opposite directions, like millstones grinding jade or a golden turtle coiling, a massive force carrying the power to crush everything as it descended.

Mao Laoliu thought to himself that it was bad; even in his prime, he could not withstand this move head-on.

In desperation, he risked everything for a mutual destruction, falling backward and spreading the 10 fingers of both hands.

"Ten Thousand Earth-Sprouting Golden Lotuses Bloom!"

Under the high-speed rotation of his palms, brilliant lotus petals blossomed—far more than a thousand or ten thousand; to achieve maximum attack power, he abandoned all defense, a completely suicidal fighting style.

The two masses of light collided and then separated at an even faster speed. Before the onlookers could react, Pei Li waved his arms to dissipate the force and retreated a few steps, "I concede, I admire you."

He had actually taken the initiative to admit defeat.

Looking at Mao Laoliu sitting on the ground, his clothes tattered, he did not look like a winner.

Only the high-speed visual tracking of a Martial Master could see what had just happened between the two.

Facing Mao Laoliu's suicidal fighting style, Pei Li did not take advantage of the situation, directing his ultimate move, the Grinding Jade Millstone, to an empty space nearby and taking the opportunity to withdraw.

He gave the other party a way out and personally admitted that his skills were inferior.

Zhou You nodded; not taking advantage of someone in a vulnerable state and being willing to suffer a blow to his reputation—this breadth of mind was already beyond that of an ordinary person.

"This battle was only to witness the exquisite mysteries of Vajra; the Old Master is truly worthy of his reputation, Pei Li admires you."

Pei Li cupped his hands, "I wish the Old Master success in passing the 10 trials."

With that, he turned and left with a carefree air.

Mao Laoliu watched his retreating figure, lowered his head, and shook it; what a pity, such a person willing to be a thief! The 9th trial concluded, leaving only the final 10th trial.

This was the closest anyone had come to success since the Ten Trials were established.

The news caused a sensation, and more and more martial artists gathered at the Five Birds Palace, wanting to see the final result.

If Mao Laoliu won the final trial, would the Five Birds honor their promise and let him and his family leave?

Mao Laoliu and his disciples had fought bravely during the defense of the city and had forged a blood feud with the rebels; many people present had friends and relatives who died at their hands.

If it really came to that moment, who knows how many people would be filled with righteous indignation.

Zhou You always felt that things would not be that simple.

Pei Li had personally intervened, allowing Mao Laoliu to pass easily by voluntarily conceding.

However, the Five Birds were neither blind nor stupid; they would never throw the match in the critical final trial, and might even increase the intensity.

Some speculated that for the final trial, one of the Five Birds might even take the field themselves.

It was getting more and more interesting!

The Five Birds each had their own strengths: Ying Da was overbearing and ruthless, Sun Laoer was sharp and aggressive, Ou Laosan excelled in underwater combat, Bailao was invincible in piercing, and Xiao Gu was invisible and formless; all were heroes of their time.

Anyone who entered the arena could easily win against the already exhausted Mao Laoliu.

The question was, who exactly would enter?

Immediately, some people opened a betting pool, scrambling to place wagers on who would fight in the 10th round and cut off Mao Laoliu's last hope.

Amidst the anticipation of the masses, the 10th round arrived as scheduled, and Mao Laoliu stood in the center of the arena waiting for his opponent to appear.

The wind blew, the dust settled, and a figure walked up before him.

Mao Lang wore a collar and was draped in heavy chains, which weighed him down so much that he walked with a staggering gait, leaving a deep footprint with every step.

"Master!"

Mao Lang's voice rang out in surprise; since being captured, this was the first time he had seen his master, and he was uncontrollably excited.

He said loudly, "Master, they promised me that as long as I pass the ten rounds, they will let you leave."

The moment Mao Lang appeared, the hair on the arms of the watching martial artists stood on end; this was too cruel—master and disciple forced to kill each other!

Mao Laoliu's opponent for the 10th round was unexpected; he was actually the weakest one, as those from the previous 9 rounds were all stronger than him, but he was also the one against whom Mao Laoliu could least bring himself to strike.

A little inquiry was enough to know that to Mao Laoliu, Mao Lang was closer than his own son.

How could this allow him to bring himself to strike? On one side was his family, on the other his beloved disciple; Mao Laoliu suffered intense inner torment, and choosing either side was a torture.

(End of chapter)