Chapter 129: The Opponent (Please Subscribe)

Over one hundred thousand registered disciples are currently seated in the stands, their gazes fixed upon the various arenas, watching the top one hundred fighters among them engage in fierce combat.

A portion of the audience has their eyes locked on the arena where Yang Ze and Lu Zheng are facing off. As they watch the two figures collide repeatedly, many in the crowd cannot help but gasp in amazement.

"Lu Zheng is the top expert among the Grade Nine True Essence practitioners in the First District. The person fighting him is truly out of luck. It’s bad enough to face Lu Zheng, but to engage him in close-quarters combat? Are they just looking to lose quickly?"

"Lu Zheng is famous for his ghostly movement techniques and his kicks. Unless you have the means to defeat him decisively with overwhelming force, once he gets inside your guard, you’re finished."

"Exactly. Among peers, you shouldn't even think about engaging Lu Zheng in close-quarters combat, or you won't even know how you died. However, you are mistaken about one thing—Lu Zheng is no longer just the top Grade Nine expert in the First District; he is the number one expert across all ten districts of the registered disciples!"

...

High in the stands, the gathered disciples are engaged in a cacophony of discussion, punctuated by intermittent gasps as thrilling, high-stakes battles break out in various arenas.

The moment Lu Zheng launched his kick, Yang Ze sensed a sharp sense of danger. Lu Zheng practiced a specialized leg technique, and Yang Ze knew he absolutely could not afford to be struck.

*Great Whirlwind Blade-Breaking Step!*

Yang Ze muttered to himself, his body flickering with incredible speed. Before anyone could track his movement, Lu Zheng’s kick landed exactly where Yang Ze had been standing. But the blow struck only an afterimage; the real Yang Ze had already shifted behind him.

Lu Zheng felt a chill. He had not expected Yang Ze to possess such exquisite footwork, one that was in no way inferior to his own. Alert, Lu Zheng twisted his body, turning to launch another kick at Yang Ze before the latter could strike.

Yang Ze frowned, repeatedly executing the *Great Whirlwind Blade-Breaking Step* to evade the onslaught. The two began a high-speed duel of footwork on the arena floor. To an outsider, their movements were a blur; all that could be seen were two shadows constantly colliding.

After a few exchanges, though Yang Ze remained uninjured, he was genuinely surprised. Lu Zheng was truly extraordinary to be able to match him step for step. Yang Ze knew that with the help of the Black Stone, his *Great Whirlwind Blade-Breaking Step* had reached a perfect, unprecedented level. That he still couldn't gain the upper hand suggested that either Lu Zheng’s technique was more advanced or his mastery of a standard technique had reached the same peak as his own. Yang Ze leaned toward the former; the *Great Whirlwind Blade-Breaking Step* was merely a common technique from the library, and while improved by the Black Stone, it had its limits. Lu Zheng likely practiced a superior discipline. Even so, Yang Ze was impressed by Lu Zheng’s talent; such intricate techniques were notoriously difficult to master, and Lu Zheng’s success was a testament to his innate ability.

While Yang Ze was surprised, Lu Zheng was equally shaken. Initially, he had expected to defeat Yang Ze with ease, yet he found himself facing a peer who could rival his own footwork for the first time. His competitive spirit ignited. He poured the True Essence from his Dantian into his legs, increasing his speed even further.

That slight increase in speed allowed Lu Zheng to put a marginal amount of pressure on Yang Ze. Yang Ze’s expression grew grave. He focused his mind, pushing his footwork to the limit, and the two reached a new, precarious equilibrium. Amidst the flurry of movement, they traded punches and palms, their clashing True Essence leaving the arena floor pockmarked and cratered.

Suddenly, Yang Ze slowed just a fraction. Lu Zheng, seizing the opportunity, lashed out with a kick. But in that split second, the aura around Yang Ze erupted. He unleashed his *Gale Bone-Breaking Hand*, catching Lu Zheng’s leg mid-air.

A massive force erupted from the point of impact, yet neither retreated. Yang Ze’s left hand fired off a series of finger strikes, the piercing energy shooting toward Lu Zheng. Lu Zheng’s expression tightened; he kicked out with his other leg, his True Essence swirling into a protective cyclone barrier to deflect the incoming strikes.

The piercing finger energy collided with the cyclone, shattering it and striking Lu Zheng, leaving several small puncture wounds on his body. Lu Zheng grunted, stumbling back two steps as blood began to seep from the wounds, his face twisted in pain.

He quickly sealed his acupoints to stop the bleeding and prepared to counter, but Yang Ze was already upon him. A palm strike slammed into him, sending his body flying. Lu Zheng tumbled across the floor, coming to a halt. Before he could gather his energy to strike back, Yang Ze appeared in front of him, his palm hovering inches from his forehead.

Feeling the wind of the palm strike, which ultimately did not descend, Lu Zheng let out a long breath, his face turning crestfallen. He had lost. He had lost so quickly to someone he had never even heard of. A bitter taste filled his heart.

Lu Zheng’s defeat was fair. He was talented, but he had poured all his efforts into footwork and leg techniques. Usually, this allowed him to win through surprise, but he had met his match in Yang Ze. Yang Ze could not be measured by the standards of an ordinary person; every martial art he mastered was honed to a peak level. His *Nine-Whirl Finger* technique was not something an average practitioner could withstand.

Yang Ze’s victory had not taken long, and the spectacle left the surrounding disciples in a state of shock. The top Grade Nine expert had been defeated by an unknown newcomer. Information about Yang Ze began to spread rapidly through the stands. Upon learning that he had reached the ninth grade of True Essence in just three months, many in the crowd drew sharp, collective breaths. With this tournament, the name Yang Ze had finally begun to echo throughout the ten districts of the registered disciples.

This tournament was the stage—the ultimate proving ground where a good performance could propel one to fame among the disciples. There was no better opportunity, which was why so many fought with such desperation.

As Yang Ze’s battle concluded, many other arenas were still engaged in fierce fighting, particularly the high-level duels between those at the "Half-Step to First Grade" level. The intensity of their combat was such that it seemed as if they might shatter the very ground of the arena.

Choosing not to watch, Yang Ze realized his True Essence was significantly depleted and sat down cross-legged. Since he was the victor, he was the only one left on his arena, allowing him to recover his strength in peace. An hour passed, and by the time the rest of the battles on the field concluded, Yang Ze had fully recovered. He had sustained no injuries, and replenishing his True Essence was a simple matter.

Following the hour of recovery, a new round of drawings commenced. Yang Ze reached into the container, and the slip of paper he pulled out bore the number eleven. To his surprise, he was assigned to the same arena again.

By this round, Yang Ze was certain of one thing: this was not a matter of luck, but a scheme orchestrated by Xie Yuan. Why else would he be placed in the same arena time and again? He tightened his grip on the slip of paper, his face revealing nothing. If he could not deal with Xie Yuan for now, he would wait and see what tricks the man had in store for him.

As he waited, his next opponent finally arrived. When he saw who it was, even the usually composed Yang Ze could not help but let out a dry laugh. The other person stepping onto the arena laughed as well. Looking at the man before him, Yang Ze felt no hatred toward Xie Yuan; instead, he felt a strange sense of gratitude for sending this particular opponent to him.

"Shui Ziming, we meet again." Yang Ze stared at the man, his voice cold.

His opponent for this round was none other than the master of the Water Sect, Shui Ziming. Seeing him, Yang Ze felt no fear at facing a "Half-Step to First Grade" expert. Instead, a surge of fighting spirit welled up within him. Even if he failed to reach the top ten, defeating Shui Ziming would make this entire journey worthwhile.