Chapter 507: The Grand Showdown (3)
The Tiger Fiend's Fury
A fierce battle was unfolding.
Tiger roars echoed through the field. A red figure flew up and down, incredibly fast. Although the Zombie had an odd gait, its speed was surprisingly quick. Its body was extremely hard; punches landing on it produced dull thudding sounds, like hitting a dehydrated tree trunk.
The Zombie felt no pain, and every time it was knocked down, it got back up immediately.
The two fighters exchanged blows on the platform.
Jiu, wrapped in the red tiger phantom, occasionally unleashed bursts of qi that swept out like gales, rushing outwards.
This was a scene never heard of or witnessed before.
The martial arts community watched with wide, excited eyes. They were tense and thrilled. The power of the Tiger Fiend Scripture was an eye-opener, as if a new door to the world had been flung open.
Martial artists are inferior to cultivators.
This was a long-held belief in China, a form of disdain that trickled down from the top. No matter how famous or powerful a pugilist was, they were considered mere mortals by the Daoist priests—not worth mentioning.
Over time, the martial arts world couldn't help but feel inferior. There was no recourse. While martial artists were formidable fighters, they couldn't deal with supernatural creatures. Forget the legendary monsters; they couldn't even handle the most basic malicious ghosts or vengeful spirits.
Now, things were different. The power Jiu displayed showed them a future of limitless hope.
With such terrifying killing qi, what malevolent spirit would dare approach him? Coupled with his savage strength and speed, even the rumored undying Zombie was being mercilessly pummeled.
If they could master this technique, what good were the Daoist priests? They could be suppressed with a lift of the hand.
While the martial arts community was buzzing with excitement, the Daoist side was grim-faced and deeply worried.
The Zombie on the platform was no ordinary specimen. It was the prized treasure of the Muccang Temple (木仓观). They brought it out as a precaution, never imagining that a four-hundred-year-old Zombie would be at such a disadvantage.
The battle on the platform grew increasingly violent.
Jiu's hands had morphed into blood-red tiger claws. Every swing left a brief visual afterimage in the air. His attacks were savage and ruthless, accompanied by waves of tiger roars, making him as terrifying as a vicious beast.
The young Daoist priest was petrified, huddled in a corner, too afraid to move.
The Zombie's clothes were ripped to shreds, revealing its wounded body. Its ferocity was fully ignited, subtly threatening to break free of control, yet it was utterly powerless against Jiu. It was smashed to the ground repeatedly, its right arm broken, its left leg fractured, and its chest struck countless times, nearly having its heart gouged out.
Seeing this sight, the Abbot of the Muccang Temple couldn't stand it any longer and shouted loudly,
"Stop! We surrender!"
The referee stepped forward to intervene, but feeling the sheer brutality emanating from Jiu, he quietly retreated.
Even with the Daoist sect's surrender, the fighting on the platform showed no sign of stopping. Jiu, his eyes blood-red, was like a demon. He pinned the Zombie to the ground, legs braced against its back, hands clutching its neck, slowly pulling outwards.
Crack, crack! The sounds were continuous. The Zombie's neck slowly elongated, its muscles tearing like dried wood.
The Abbot of Muccang Temple's eyes were blazing with fury. Ignoring the rules, he strode forward. Luke shot him a cold glance, green flames burning in his eyes. The Abbot was struck as if by lightning, stopping in his tracks in terror.
"Break!"
Jiu roared, unleashing his full power, and forcibly ripped the blue-faced, fanged head off the Zombie. The boy lifted the severed head and roared toward the sky. The blood-red tiger phantom roared in unison, showing extreme ecstasy.
The sound waves rolled out, and the killing intent boiled.
Everyone was stunned. In that moment, they saw not a person, but a bloodthirsty, savage tiger of slaughter.
The ferocious tiger devouring its prey was brutal and tyrannical.
Linda couldn't help but whisper, "I only taught him the first layer of the technique. How could he have cultivated it to this extent?"
Luke also let out a sigh of admiration.
"The Creator is fair. He gave him the mind of a fool, but also a body that countless people would envy. This boy is a born martial artist, a rare find in a century."
After the Zombie was decapitated, the young Daoist priest didn't hesitate, scrambling and tumbling off the platform. He swore he would never compete in martial arts again.
Derek suppressed his trembling and said in the most composed voice he could manage,
"We won."
The middle-aged Daoist priest beside him was silent, his face extremely dark.
He finally understood why those temples had their plaques taken. Given the combat power the boy displayed, even the older generation with established cultivation might not be his match, let alone the younger generation.
The Final Challenge
The second match ended, but there was a strange silence. Pairs of eyes turned toward the platform, filled with caution.
Jiu's condition was clearly wrong. The fight was over, but he hadn't withdrawn his internal energy. Instead, he glared fiercely around, his killing intent undisguised.
Is this boy going to attack the audience?
An old Daoist priest spoke to his disciple,
"See? This is the Demonic Art. The deeper one practices, the easier it is to lose control."
The atmosphere became tense.
Several old Daoist priests silently performed hand seals. If Jiu dared to make a move, they would kill him without hesitation.
Luke coughed. "Ava."
The silver battlesuit emitted a strong bio-current, stimulating Jiu's brain. The killing intent receded, and rationality regained dominance. The boy reverted to his former simple-minded appearance.
Seeing this, everyone inexplicably breathed a sigh of relief.
Jiu bounced off the platform and walked up to Luke, claiming credit.
"I won again."
"Mm."
Luke nodded. "What do you want to eat tonight?"
"Seafood! Lobster!"
"After the third match, we'll go eat seafood."
The boy cheered excitedly, completely unaware of how terrifying his previous actions had been.
Two of the three matches were complete. Only the last one remained. If the Daoist sect lost again, they would lose their transcendent status and become the stepping stone for Jiu's ascent to the pinnacle.
No Daoist priest wanted to see that outcome.
Everyone looked worried. Jiu's displayed combat power was unexpected; he had even torn a centuries-old Zombie apart. No one could guarantee victory in the third match.
Li Mo quietly asked Zhang Ruochen,
"With your strength, can you defeat Zhang Jiu?"
Zhang Ruochen pondered carefully.
"If I could take one more step and reach the realm of my Senior Brother, then certainly. As it is now... it's hard to say."
Li Mo was surprised. "Even you are not his match, Martial Uncle?"
Zhang Ruochen shook his head helplessly. "The tiger phantom surrounding Zhang Jiu is actually a form of Baleful Aura, which has a strong suppressing effect on demons and monsters. Daoist sorcery will also be affected. Ordinary methods are useless. The only thing that can cause harm is Lightning Sorcery. You should know how difficult Lightning Sorcery is to master."
With that, he sighed regretfully.
Among the dozens of Daoist schools, Lightning Sorcery was the strongest but also the most difficult. Achieving anything significant before the age of thirty-five was virtually impossible.
Li Mo frowned slightly, muttering only loud enough for himself to hear,
"It's better to lose. Only by losing can we take the next step."
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