"What are you laughing at?" Cheng Zhen was enraged by Jiang Chen's smile. For a commoner-born disciple to flash such a strange grin right in front of him—Cheng Zhen took it as the deepest kind of contempt and provocation.
"This fortune truly is marvelous. Heaven works in mysterious ways, and there are always some wondrous arrangements made in the unseen currents of fate. Cheng Zhen, isn't it? If I remember correctly, you said just a while ago that you'd teach me how to behave? You even swore that I shouldn't dare draw you as an opponent, or else you'd beat me so badly I wouldn't even have the strength to crawl off the stage?"
Cheng Zhen's face turned an iron-grey shade, and he spoke through gritted teeth: "What do you have to be smug about? You won against a few small fry and now you think there's no one in the Profound Spirit Zone who can take you?"
Jiang Chen burst into hearty laughter: "You're absolutely right — I really am smug. But not because of the winning streak. I'm smug because I've finally gotten the chance to beat you with a perfectly valid reason."
"Arrogant." Cheng Zhen was furious, his voice dripping with mockery. "All you know from start to finish is that one move. If you're not embarrassed, I'm embarrassed for you. If you've got any skill at all, try something different for once."
"You don't deserve it." Jiang Chen shook his head with a faint smile.
Cheng Zhen was no simpleton, but Jiang Chen's brazen arrogance sent a surge of hot blood rushing to his head. He let out a furious roar, both fists suddenly surging with limitless power, and his body exploded forward.
"Die, you reckless fool!"
Cheng Zhen struck first! A sect disciple, a Class-A martial artist of the Profound Spirit Zone, actually launched a preemptive attack — and a sneak attack at that.
The spectators below, especially the Purple Sun Sect disciples, all flushed crimson with shame, their hearts sinking with guilt. Sect disciples were supposed to care about their reputation.
But Cheng Zhen had clearly thrown caution to the wind in his desperate bid to win. If he won, fine. But if he lost, he would have to wear a figurative mask for the rest of his life.
Cheng Zhen's fists hammered out in rapid succession, each blow generating horrifying arcs of fist-force that coalesced into violent currents of air, swirling across the sky. In an instant, the entire void was filled with these berserk fist-shadows.
"Th-that's the Solar Corona Divine Radiance Fist!"
"Tsk, tsk — a true disciple of the Purple Sun Sect indeed. Their martial heritage is truly second to none. The Solar Corona Divine Radiance Fist — fists like the corona of the sun, divine light illuminating the void, devouring all in their path, indestructible and unstoppable!"
Cheng Zhen bared his teeth in a savage grin. His fist-force surged to new heights. From the thousands of fist-shadows, a single devastating wave of power condensed — and he lunged forward, smashing it toward Jiang Chen's ribs.
Solar Corona Divine Radiance. The fist that breaks all arts.
Cheng Zhen had devoted ten years to mastering this martial technique, long since bringing it to the cusp of perfection. Now, unleashed at full power, it exceeded even his usual peak by several degrees.
Jiang Chen smiled coldly. He had to admit, Cheng Zhen's sneak attack had caught him slightly off guard.
But only slightly.
Under normal circumstances, Jiang Chen might have dodged, avoided the brunt of the attack, and then struck at Cheng Zhen's weak points.
However, given how Cheng Zhen had behaved — his brazen arrogance, the way he had provoked and stomped all over Jiang Chen in front of such a large crowd — even if Jiang Chen wasn't the kind of person to hold grudges over every slight, he certainly wouldn't let someone like this continue acting tough right in his face.
So without even a glance, Jiang Chen drew upon every ounce of spiritual energy in his body, activated his protective armor, and charged straight into the oncoming fist-force.
If Cheng Zhen held the initiative, then any dodge, deflection, or reduction of that fist-force would make a one-move victory impossible.
And a one-move victory was exactly what Jiang Chen was after.
Perhaps with someone else, he could have abandoned that principle. But against Cheng Zhen, defeating him in a single move was the finest counterattack — the greatest humiliation.
So he made his decision: he would endure the blow from the Solar Corona Divine Radiance Fist and still send Cheng Zhen flying off the stage in one strike.
Amid the storm-like barrage of fist-force, every onspectator wondered if their eyes were playing tricks on them. Jiang Chen's body wove through the violent currents like a butterfly, advancing against the tide.
BANG, BANG, BANG!
Countless fist-blows struck Jiang Chen simultaneously. At the same instant, his arm rose — and a great palm seal he had been building erupted outward, smashing directly into Cheng Zhen's chest.
Cheng Zhen, seeing Jiang Chen actually charge headlong into his fist-force, was secretly elated. This fool wasn't dodging? He was begging for death!
So even as his elation surged, Cheng Zhen was already looking forward to the spectacle of Jiang Chen's bones shattering, his organs rupturing, his blood spraying as he collapsed.
But the scene he was expecting never came.
Instead, a shadow flickered before his eyes — and Jiang Chen's great palm seal had already pressed against his chest.
"How is this possible?" A desperate thought flashed through Cheng Zhen's mind. In the next instant, a series of crisp snapping sounds echoed from his chest.
His bones cracked apart one by one, like branches snapping in a gale. Blood erupted from his mouth, and his entire body went limp as he plummeted helplessly off the stage.
Those crisp sounds of breaking bone made every martial artist in the audience wince. Though it wasn't them who was hurt, they all knew — with fractures like that, Cheng Zhen was most likely done for.
THUD!
Cheng Zhen hit the ground hard, scattering clouds of dust in every direction.
"Brother!" Cheng Zhen's cousin Cheng Lan rushed over in a panic. Cheng Zhen was unconscious, his body limp and lifeless, barely clinging to breath. He didn't even have the strength to respond.
Every martial artist watching felt a chill run through their hearts, cold sweat trickling down their backs. They looked up at Jiang Chen on the stage, and every pair of eyes was filled with wariness.
This commoner-born fighter really didn't let an insult go unanswered overnight.
Hadn't Cheng Zhen just sworn he'd beat Jiang Chen so badly he couldn't even leave the stage? Look at the state Cheng Zhen was in now — wasn't that exactly what Cheng Zhen himself had described?