Chapter 948: The Unexpected Surrender

Mie Chenzi had fought countless battles since making his debut. Nearly every one had ended with him crushing his opponent, steamrolling over them, ruthlessly scheming against them.

Never before had a fight left him feeling so stifled as today — countered at every turn, suppressed at every exchange, and suppressed so thoroughly that he had no room to be angry about it.

He had seen these eight statues before, once on a rogue cultivator named Shang Ping Wang. That cultivator had deployed the same technique.

But in Mie Chenzi's memory, those statues had never possessed such terrifying offensive power, nor such formidable mobility, or such fluid coordination.

Yet right now, these eight statues seemed to have gained a touch of spiritual awareness, as though they possessed a kind of intelligence. Both their combat strength and their judgment of the battlefield were indistinguishable from those of a true martial artist.

But the most infuriating part wasn't any of that. The most infuriating part was that these eight statues weren't flesh and blood — they feared no counterattack whatsoever.

Ordinary blows landing on them would leave nothing more than a few scratches.

Mie Chenzi's battle saber hacked down again and again, cleaving through the statues repeatedly, but he couldn't shatter them completely.

And with these statue puppets, failing to destroy them clearly meant failing to defeat them.

The problem was simple: the statue puppets didn't mind being hit, but he, Mie Chenzi, certainly did.

Though his defensive power had instantly been boosted several times over, the earlier deluge of ten thousand swords had already left him injured. If these statues kept landing blows on him, he wouldn't necessarily collapse right away — but over time, as injuries accumulated, it would certainly become a fatal liability.

Most crucially, the defensive power granted by his rune had a time limit. Once it expired, facing the rabid assault of these eight statue puppets with nothing but his own natural defenses — flesh against puppet constructs — he absolutely wouldn't last long.

Mie Chenzi's anxiety was burning through him.

This was a predicament he had never encountered since making his debut. He still held one final trump card, but in this situation, it would be nearly impossible to deploy.

And worst of all, once he used that card, his identity would be certain to be exposed.

For himself, and for his entire sect, that would be a disaster.

For the moment, Mie Chenzi was in a state of acute distress.

Even more distressed than him were the three great Dharma Kings of the Immortal Celestial Capital — Mu Sheng, Ke Sheng, and Bei — who were watching this decisive battle from the shadows at a distance.

The Mie Chenzi on the arena was their Immortal Celestial Capital's headquarters' sent prodigy, one of their most elite true disciples.

Earlier, when they had watched the Zhen Dan King win battle after battle and even ruthlessly kill a suspected true disciple of the Nine Yang Celestial Sect, they had already been debating whether to send their own true disciple onto the stage.

The Immortal Celestial Capital had sent three prodigies in total.

But the other two were clearly useless now. Even if they went up, they would only be toyed with and destroyed by this Zhen Dan King.

Only Mie Chenzi stood a slim chance.

When Mie Chenzi produced the Soul-Lost Rattle Bell, all three Dharma Kings had been utterly shocked — they realized the Heavenly Capital Master's indulgence of Mie Chenzi had reached an absurd degree.

Yet the Soul-Lost Rattle Bell, which they had considered a certain path to victory, had failed to deal with the Zhen Dan King. Worse, the Zhen Dan King had launched a counterattack that pushed Mie Chenzi onto the back foot in an instant.

And the Zhen Dan King's relentless, wave after wave of attacks had left Mie Chenzi scrambling to defend himself, barely managing to hold on.

At this, the three great Dharma Kings of the Immortal Celestial Capital were completely dumbfounded.

They had previously suspected this Zhen Dan King was Jiang Chen. But now, each and every one of them was beginning to doubt their own judgment.

Jiang Chen, for all his monstrous talent, showed evidence from various intelligence reports of talent that — however extraordinary — clearly did not reach this level.

"Could it be that the Zhen Dan King truly isn't Jiang Chen?" Deep down, the three great Dharma Kings of the Immortal Celestial Capital were each gripped by this question.

Clearly, faced with this situation, they were no longer certain.

The Zhen Dan King's potential and strength had far, far exceeded their estimates. Forget Mie Chenzi — even if a true disciple of the Immortal Celestial Capital more talented than Mie Chenzi stepped onto this stage, would that person necessarily be able to suppress the Zhen Dan King?

The answer was: not necessarily!

Could such a genius really be Jiang Chen?

Jiang Chen was, after all, merely a prodigy of the fourth-grade sect Dan Qian Palace. He had risen from the Myriad Phenomena Region. Placed within the Glazed King City, within the Upper Eight Regions — what did he truly amount to?

It had to be said that even Mu Sheng Dharma King, who had been unwavering in his conviction that the Zhen Dan King was Jiang Chen, was wavering now.

But the situation had already gone past the point of no return.

Watching Mie Chenzi in peril on the arena, the three great Dharma Kings burned with anxiety.

Mie Chenzi was absolutely a top-five talent among the Immortal Celestial Capital's true disciples — perhaps even top three. And most critically, he was the Heavenly Capital Master's grandson. He was usually deeply valued by the Master.

"Brother Ke, this Mie Chenzi is the Heavenly Capital Master's grandson — surely he has another trump card. Can he really do nothing but take hits passively?"

Ke Sheng Dharma King smiled bitterly. "The Heavenly Capital Master certainly wouldn't let Mie Chenzi take such a risk easily. My guess is that Mie Chenzi is waiting for an opportunity to counterattack."

At this point, self-comfort was all they had left.

On the arena, Jiang Chen appeared perfectly at ease, but he had been watching the entire time. He was waiting — waiting for the chance to deliver a single, killing blow.