Chapter 130: Battle Qing Ge

After activating the hyper-synchronization mode, Wang Yu’s vision was not hindered in the slightest by the black-red fire cloud formed from wind and fire energy.

In his eyes, Gu Lian’s body was now encased in a crimson light shield, its surface shimmering with twelve silver spiritual runes that fluctuated wildly, frantically absorbing the surrounding flame energy.

The terrifying fire cloud, which seemed invincible, shrank rapidly within a dozen breaths and vanished completely.

In contrast, the light shield on Gu Lian’s body grew even redder than fire, and the twelve silver runes swelled to several times their former size, as if sated, nearly covering half the shield’s surface.

Li Tianqi, watching this, could hardly believe his eyes, his pupils wide with shock.

At that moment, the man across from him merely formed a hand seal and muttered incantations; the twelve silver runes on the shield each spewed a thread of red light, instantly converging before Gu Lian to form a crimson orb.

The orb began no larger than a fist, but as more red light poured in, it swelled to the size of a head within moments, continuing to expand wildly.

The blue-robed woman across the way scanned it with her spiritual sense, sensed the astonishing power within the crimson orb, turned pale, and suddenly declared, “I yield.”

Gu Lian smiled faintly, released his hand seal, and the orb and his light shield both flickered and vanished.

Liu Ming, watching from above, showed slight surprise on his face but still announced Gu Lian as the victor and lifted the restrictions.

Gu Lian and the other contestant each flew off the stone platform.

Among the other cultivation families on the stone platforms, their gazes toward Gu Lian had changed completely—some looked utterly confused, others filled with dread; then someone suddenly cried out, “Twelve Rune Technique,” and chaos erupted across the crowd.

Qing Ge Shiren, who had been standing behind the white-haired old man Bi Zhuzhu, now stared at Gu Lian’s back and for the first time wore a serious expression.

On another stone platform, behind a middle-aged man with a gloomy face, a young man and woman stood side by side.

The man, about twenty-five or twenty-six, wore a patterned leather robe, had a pointed face and monkey-like cheeks, arms hanging past his knees, and a yellow staff slung across his back.

The woman, twenty-one or twenty-two, had peach-blossom eyes, fair skin and beauty, wore a pink long skirt, and every movement exuded grace and charm.

“Shi Jian, this man can unleash a Twelve Rune Entry-Level Technique. By number order, your next match may be against him—can you handle him?” the middle-aged man couldn’t help turning to ask the young man.

“Master Fang, rest assured. Even if he has some skill, he clearly only excels in fire techniques. With my Spirit Monkey body, how could he ever get the chance to cast? I’ll defeat him in a single strike.” The monkey-faced man replied dismissively.

“Yes, Father. Shi Lang’s bloodline awakened the Arm-Extending Spirit Monkey, and he even awakened dual talents. What problem could there be defeating a mere Luori Sect disciple?” the beautiful woman added, covering her mouth with a light laugh, gazing at Shi Jian with adoration.

Hearing this, the monkey-faced man puffed out his chest even more, exuding absolute confidence.

“Heh, true. With your abilities, making it to the final two and securing a Spirit Vein slot is certain. I stand by my word—if you help the Fang family win a Spirit Vein slot, I’ll allow Yan’er to marry you.” Fang’s patriarch made the promise without hesitation.

Shi Jian was overjoyed and immediately pounded his chest, vowing it was certain.

Fire Shield!

At this moment, Wang Yu watched Gu Lian fly back to Yu Zhuzhu’s side; his face appeared calm, but his heart churned like a stormy sea.

The Twelve Rune Technique just used by the other man might be unrecognizable to the cultivation families, but he himself had practiced it—how could he not recognize it?

Yet Gu Lian’s Fire Shield was vastly different from his own: the runes on its surface were pale silver, and it could absorb flame energy, then release it back as a counterattack, with immense power.

Wang Yu fell silent in thought.

……

At Liu Ming’s order, the monkey-faced Shi Jian leapt onto the training ground, staff in hand.

His opponent was a broad-shouldered, muscular giant wielding a giant blade taller than a man.

But as soon as the battle began, Shi Jian leapt high into the air, rolled twice mid-flight, and arrived above the giant with a trail of afterimages, bringing his staff down in one blow.

The giant was stunned, had no time to cast any technique, and could only raise his giant blade in desperate defense.

“Boom!” “Boom!” “Boom!”

Three thunderous crashes like lightning splitting the sky.

Shi Jian’s first strike shattered the giant’s palms and crushed the floor tiles beneath him.

The second strike bent the giant’s blade, burned his arms numb, and drove his calves deep into the shattered stone.

The third strike sent the giant’s blade flying, left his body limp and powerless, and sank both legs completely into the ground.

The giant turned ashen-faced and immediately surrendered.

Seeing this, Shi Jian proudly slung his staff over his shoulder and glanced back at the Shi family’s platform.

On that platform, Shi’s patriarch and his daughter watched, both smiling broadly.

The other cultivation families on the platforms whispered among themselves; many patriarchs now wore bitter expressions.

Wang Yu, watching Shi Jian’s back, felt a chill in his heart.

Not only did that man’s triple strike carry tremendous force, but how had he jumped like a monkey—leaving afterimages and crossing such a distance in one bound?

He rubbed his chin, suddenly filled with great anticipation for the final four moves of the Four Beasts Diagram: the Monkey Roar.

In subsequent matches, many cultivators who took the field seemed distracted, barely even feigning combat—casting a few spells, exchanging a few blows, then surrendering outright, ending quickly.

Clearly, the dominant performances of Gu Lian and others had caused weaker families to abandon their hopes of securing a Spirit Vein slot.

“Number thirty-five, number thirty-six.”

The scholar finally called Wang Yu’s number.

Wang Yu greeted Yin Linglong, formed a hand seal, and white mist rose from his body as he flew directly to the training ground.

At that moment, a figure also flew down from a stone platform—wearing a leather robe, carrying a bronze long spear—and upon landing, he coldly sized up Wang Yu for a moment before saying with faint disappointment:

“Only Qi Condensation Mid-Stage! What a pity. I won’t need to exert myself—two or three moves will end this.”

Qing Ge Shiren

Wang Yu stared at his opponent, speechless.

The spectators on other platforms, seeing Qing Ge Shiren appear, erupted again in commotion, all eyes wide, eager to see if he truly lived up to his name.