Amplified by the array within the [ Sound-Transmitting Jade ], Mo Fan's rough, barbaric roar echoed like rolling thunder above the Azure Cloud Sect's outer court martial arena.
Dead silence.
A suffocating dead silence lasting for several seconds.
The tens of thousands of people in the entire martial arena seemed to have been collectively hit by an immobilize spell in this instant. Even the howling autumn mountain wind seemed to stall, shocked by this absurd, grandiose declaration.
The referee deacon standing beside Mo Fan, whose hand was reaching out to take back the Sound-Transmitting Jade, jerked his wrist. His brain directly experienced a blue-screen crash.
He looked at the bloodshot-eyed, wildly grinning body cultivator before him like he was looking at an unreasonable madman.
"Martial... Martial Nephew Lu?"
The deacon swallowed hard, forcibly squeezing out a smile uglier than crying, trying to smooth things over before the situation spiraled completely out of control.
"Did... did the intense fighting just now make the blood rush to your head, causing a slip of the tongue? This is a solemn Top 8 trash talk segment, we can't make jokes like this..."
However, not only did Mo Fan not take the off-ramp provided, he doubled down.
He snatched back the Sound-Transmitting Jade that the deacon had barely touched.
Deliberately puffing out his blood-and-mud-stained chest, he used an extremely crude tone, reeking of a peasant hoodlum vibe, and loudly delivered a secondary critical hit:
"I didn't misspeak! I just want to challenge her!"
Mo Fan's gaze swept over the distant waiting area with extreme insolence.
"I just like Senior Sister Shen Qiu! Therefore, I want to challenge her in the quarterfinals, and defeat her! Because in my hometown, there's an old saying—women all like to be conquered by men stronger than themselves!"
BOOM!
The moment these words came out, Mo Fan silently pressed his palms together in his heart, issuing a frantic apology only he could hear.
"I'm sorry, Senior Sister Shen Qiu! My sins are grave! I'm really not that kind of terminal chauvinist pervert! This is all to build a persona for sandbagging! When I get the chance in the future, your junior brother will definitely prepare a lavish gift and make a grand apology!"
But in the eyes of outsiders, the current Mo Fan was a thorough, lust-addled lecherous scumbag.
After the brief dead silence came an uproar like a volcanic eruption!
The entire martial arena instantly boiled over.
"Madman! This is simply going too far!"
Countless male cultivators who admired Shen Qiu instantly saw red. One by one, they drew their longswords, wishing they could rush the stage right now and cleave Mo Fan alive.
"A mud-legged peasant crawling up from the servant district dares to spout such nonsense at Senior Sister Shen? A toad wanting to eat swan meat!"
"Too crude! Simply an eyesore!"
The female cultivators were even more filled with disdain, covering their noses and mouths with their sleeves as if looking at Mo Fan one more time would dirty their eyes.
"Does he really think that winning one match relying on brute force makes him above the law in the outer court? Vulgar!"
Curses, boos, and even the whistling sounds of fruit peels and trash being thrown at the stage wove into a tsunami of public opinion.
High up on the platform.
The elders responsible for proctoring the exam looked at each other in dismay.
Especially the few elders belonging to the Sect Master's faction. Originally, they had been somewhat guarded against this servant named "Lu Xiaoqi," fearing he was a deep, scheming mastermind wanting to leech off A-Song's name.
But seeing this scene now, their deeply furrowed brows actually relaxed. Someone even couldn't help but let out a sneer.
"I thought he was a forbearing older brother with deep affection and righteousness, but it turns out... he's just a crude madman who's never seen a woman?"
An elder picked up his teacup, gently blowing away the foam, a trace of disdain flashing in his eyes.
"This kind of idiot, even if we let him into the inner sect, is just a thug who thinks with his lower half. He really has no depth. Nothing to fear."
"Alright, alright! The challenge registration is valid!"
The referee deacon on the stage was sweating profusely.
Terrified that Mo Fan would hold the Sound-Transmitting Jade and say something else treacherous that would anger the higher-ups, he snatched back the amplification artifact almost like a robbery.
Then, he waved his hands repeatedly as if shooing away a plague god.
"Hurry down! Prepare for the next match!"
Mo Fan knew when to quit while he was ahead. He grinned, revealing a mouthful of white teeth, shouldered his [ Pale Bone Scepter ], and amidst deafening curses, swaggered off the stage with extreme arrogance.
Brushing off his clothes, leaving behind a floor of chicken feathers.
Meanwhile, in the Stage A waiting area.
The ice queen Shen Qiu, who had just been looking down and carefully wiping her purple-black long whip with a pristine white silk handkerchief, completely froze her hand movements.
That unbearably crude sentence, "Women all like to be conquered," acted like a fly, forcibly flying into her perennially cold and unbothered ears.
A rare crack appeared on her perfect, iceberg-like face.
Extreme astonishment, followed by nauseating disgust.
"Lu Xiaoqi?"
Shen Qiu's brows twisted tightly together. Before this, she didn't even know this name!
However, what angered her was that a servant body cultivator actually dared to issue this kind of insulting provocation to her in front of the entire sect?
The other seeded players preparing for their matches nearby, as well as passing deacons, cast strange glances her way. In those gazes were sympathy, schadenfreude, and the teasing look of waiting for a good show.
"Hooo..."
Shen Qiu closed her eyes and took a deep breath. Her high chest heaved slightly due to extreme anger.
Her right hand gripping the long whip turned white at the knuckles from exerting too much force. Right now, she had a strong urge to rush directly to the Group C stage and whip that vulgar scoundrel into minced meat.
But she forcefully suppressed this anger.
"I still have to prepare for the upcoming Round of 16 to 8 elimination match," Shen Qiu warned herself coldly in her heart. "I absolutely cannot let this kind of jumping buffoon disturb my Dao Heart. In the quarterfinals... I will let him know what it means to be better off dead."
She reopened her eyes. Her gaze had restored that absolute coldness capable of freezing souls.
Ignoring all the gazes around her, she carried her long whip and walked straight toward her assigned Stage A.
A moment later, Stage A.
Shen Qiu's opponent was a late-stage Qi Condensation sword cultivator.
This sword cultivator had originally done a lot of tactical simulations off-stage, feeling that relying on his flexible positioning, he might be able to clash with this championship favorite.
However, when he truly stepped onto the stage and met Shen Qiu's eyes, he regretted it.
Those were a pair of eyes devoid of any emotional color, yet seemingly suppressing the fury of an entire active volcano.
Being stared at by those eyes, the sword cultivator instantly felt like he had fallen into an ice hole, his legs actually going a bit soft uncooperatively.
"Match, be—"
Before the referee's voice fell, while the word "gin" was still rolling in his throat...
Shen Qiu erupted completely.
There was no elegant probing like in the past, nor her signature multi-thread kiting.
CRACK!
An ear-piercing sonic boom tore through the air.
The purple-black long whip transformed into a sky full of furious purple shadows. Like a violent storm, it directly and completely drowned the sword cultivator before he even had time to draw his sword.
The most tragic, one-sided beatdown had begun.
"Ah!"
The sword cultivator screamed miserably.
The protective sword Qi he hastily propped up was as fragile as thin paper under Shen Qiu's whip shadows carrying destructive spiritual energy, shattering instantly.
Immediately after, the whip struck his body viciously like a venomous snake.
Every time the whip fell, it left a terrifying, several-inch-deep whip mark on the marble floor of the arena, simultaneously leaving a skin-tearing, fleshy-gaping bloody gash on the sword cultivator.
"Th-This is too ruthless..."
The audience below felt their scalps tingle, even forgetting to cheer.
That innocent sword cultivator was beaten into doubting his life. He rolled around the arena like a broken burlap sack. Let alone counterattacking, he couldn't even assume a sword-drawing posture.
After taking over a dozen vicious, heavy lashes, his will finally collapsed. Face covered in blood, crawling and rolling, he opened his mouth wanting to shout the life-saving words, "I surrender."
However, Shen Qiu's eyes remained cold.
The long whip folded bizarrely in the air. Like a purple spear, carrying a fierce killing intent, it thrust straight toward the sword cultivator's most vulnerable dantian!
If this strike landed, this sword cultivator would be completely crippled.
"Show mercy!" The referee deacon turned pale with fright, preparing to forcefully intervene.
Just in the nick of time.
Relying on her extremely high combat literacy and the last shred of remaining reason, Shen Qiu forcibly flicked her wrist, rigidly retracting this fatal blow.
The tip of the whip deflected half an inch from the sword cultivator's dantian. The tail of the whip swept horizontally like an iron rod, whipping heavily onto the sword cultivator's chest.
BANG!
Accompanied by the muffled sound of several ribs breaking, the innocent sword cultivator spewed a mouthful of fresh blood.
He was whipped directly out of the arena's boundary barrier, smashing into the ground below like a puddle of mud, fainting dead away.
The entire venue was dead silent.
Everyone couldn't help but swallow hard. Looking at the unlucky bastard who was beaten out of human shape and hurriedly carried away by the healing deacons, they all understood clearly in their hearts—
How was Shen Qiu fighting a match?
She was clearly venting her monstrous rage at that "Lu Xiaoqi" across the air!
"Shen... Shen Qiu, wins! Advances to the Top 8!"
The referee announced the result tremblingly, then carefully handed over the Sound-Transmitting Jade representing the victor's right to speak.
He asked tentatively, "Martial Niece Shen... regarding the provocation from the servant district's Lu Xiaoqi just now... do you have anything to respond to?"
Shen Qiu stood in the center of the stage.
She didn't even glance at the Sound-Transmitting Jade.
She merely raised her hand, coldly flicked off the string of blood beads staining the purple-black long whip, and then, amidst the awe-struck and terrified gazes of the crowd, said not a single word.
She turned around directly and walked off the stage.
No angry rebuttals. No arrogant trash talk.
Only a departing back.
But in the eyes of everyone, this disregard—treating him like dirt—was the highest level of contempt, and the cruelest declaration of war!
A storm sparked by Mo Fan's "infamy marketing" had inevitably brewed into shape on the quarterfinals stage.