A series of smoke and dust explosions burst across the center of the arena. At the far retaining wall of the combat ring, a massive cloud of dust and flashes of light suddenly detonated, followed only moments later by the rolling thunder of a concussive blast.
The crowd was stunned. Only then did their eyes shift from the center of the ring toward the far end where the uproar had come from, none of them certain what had actually transpired in that split second.
Chen Chuan paid them no mind. After blasting Rossard away with a single punch, he did not pause for an instant. Propelled by his force field, he leaped swiftly upward, casually chopping a palm toward the neck of the colossal spiritual visage.
Just like Rossard, the spiritual visage had yet to react. Given its massive bulk, it was naturally far slower, allowing his palm strike to cleave directly into its vital juncture.
The dense fire of spirituality surrounding it was torn apart in an instant by his highly condensed platinum light-flame, as though it offered no resistance whatsoever. A fissure split across its neck, and then its gigantic head went flying.
Having delivered the strike, Chen Chuan did not even check the result. His figure flashed once more, hurtling toward the spot where Rossard had been blasted away.
Yet before he could reach it, light flickered faintly ahead, and a blast of spiritual impact crashed violently toward him.
Even so, Chen Chuan's rushing speed did not diminish in the slightest. The platinum light-flame around him flared outward, slamming straight into that blazing mass of light.
Relying purely on the formidable defense of his own fire of spirituality, he forcefully crushed the hastily unleashed impact and tore right through it!
Afterward, with undiminished momentum, he charged straight for Rossard behind it. Normally, no matter how overpowering a fighter seemed, meeting an obstructive impact during a forward rush would inevitably affect their speed to some extent. Yet during the clash just now, he had deliberately accelerated, so his onslaught appeared completely unchecked.
Rossard had just unleashed a spiritual impact. Under normal circumstances, mutated tissue throughout the entire body would lapse into torpor, leaving him able only to stand there helplessly with no possibility of mounting any resistance.
Yet at this very moment, something within his body seemed to throb. A pale gold ripple suddenly washed over him, rapidly cloaking his entire frame. At the same time, this power stimulated the mutated tissue inside him, driving it into a frenzy of activity, and his height surged by a full third.
Chen Chuan's charging speed had not reached its limit, allowing him to calmly observe every subtle change in his opponent.
The opponent's suddenly soaring aura was clearly not something simple drugs could provide. If there was an explanation for such an intense boost, aside from secret arts, it could only be reliance on some relic.
Not caring about what was behind it, he threw a punch with undiminished momentum. The smoke ahead abruptly blasted apart, and a fist at least twice as large as before emerged from within.
Chen Chuan had no intention of dodging. He countered with a direct, head-on punch. When they collided, he felt a force several times more ferocious than before surging from the other side.
Yet to him, it was merely that. The blazing platinum light-flame instantly dispersed the opponent's fire of spirituality, followed by a surge of jin penetrating inward through their physical contact. This time, not only did it violently shake Rossard's entire frame, but it also lifted his feet off the ground, looking as if he were about to be sent flying once more.
Yet at that exact instant, Chen Chuan twisted his wrist, opening his fist into a palm to seize Rossard's wrist. Then, turning with a hard yank, he hurled him down into the ground!
With a thunderous crash, Rossard's massive body smashed open a giant crater, tumbling and plowing a deep trench across the floor. The entire combat arena shuddered with rumbling vibrations, and even beneath the spectator seats, a rolling heave could be felt.
These exchanges had happened with blistering speed. Combined with the billowing clouds of dust and smoke, most of the audience remained in a state of dazed shock.
This time, Chen Chuan did not attack again immediately. Instead, he walked toward Rossard's position. He surmised that aside from some long-held obsession, Rossard might also be looking to seize the opportunity of this duel to seek a breakthrough.
If the man truly achieved a breakthrough, Chen Chuan would indeed be willing to experience it, but he would never deliberately help him achieve it.
If the Tawatinian people learned that a Throne martial artist had emerged from their midst, wouldn't they become even more arrogant and reckless?
Moreover, this man was merely of Tawatinian descent and was actually a citizen of the Federation. The Federation and Great Shun were both partners and rivals; there was no reason for him to do the man any favors.
Rossard gasped heavily for breath. Had it been just a few seconds earlier, Chen Chuan's jin along with the force of the impact would have been enough to keep him pinned to the ground, unable to rise.
Yet just moments ago, he had activated a relic given to him by a certain someone, elevating his own strength and causing the injuries on his body to rapidly mend.
Still, he knew that the effect of this relic would last a few seconds at most. He had to seize and make the most of this brief window. Fortunately, amid the soaring surge of power, he seemed to vaguely sense something—a heavy door barring his path seemed to have cracked open a tiny slit.
Just then, he saw a silhouette emerge through the smoke and dust. He bent and rose instantly, and by the time he completed the movement, he was already charging toward the newcomer with ferocious momentum.
He could not retreat or evade, for his opponent was far faster than he was; any superfluous move would be throwing away what little opportunity remained.
He could only push forward relentlessly. Only an unyielding will carried through to the very end would offer any possibility of shoving that door open!
Yet will was merely will. Before an absolute disparity in power, all of it turned utterly pale and feeble. In his estimation, he should have reached his opponent to engage in another clash. Yet halfway through his charge, his head was caught in a grip. He was shoved violently backward at high speed, and with a booming crash, he was slammed mercilessly into the ground.
Sustained by the relic, even though he had suffered such a massive impact, his mutated tissue remained active.
However, when he tried to roll over and get up, his head was barely raised before a punch smashed straight into his face, driving him back down. He tried to rise again, only to be hammered back down. He rose again, and was smashed down once more!
On the final strike, with a crisp crack, the layer of light cloaking his body shattered completely, disintegrating into countless fragments of glittering motes. Not only did the power that had erupted from within him vanish, but his swollen frame abruptly shrank, collapsing heavily into the crater that had been hammered out beneath him.
And at the exact moment he collapsed, with a loud blast, the body of the spiritual visage that had stood there finally shattered. A fine mist of light, as if whipped by a tempest, tore apart and rushed in all directions, surging toward the spectator stands. Ripples of light spread across the air—the protective measures of the esoteric ritual field. After all, in a battle between two Secret Palace martial artists, the mere shockwaves were enough to shake ordinary people to death.
The spectators in the stands looked toward the center of the ring, staring at Chen Chuan standing straight and tall. Anyone could see who the victor of this match was.
An observant person might have noticed that the moment Rossard fell coincided almost exactly with the collapse of his spiritual visage. This meant that from start to finish, Chen Chuan had maintained absolute control over the rhythm of the battle.
It was a complete and utter overwhelming crush!
Yet some had not even grasped what had happened. How was it that in the blink of an eye, Rossard was already lying on the ground?
Those few martial artists of Tawatinian descent were utterly struck dumb. Rossard had always been their idol and the benchmark they strove to pursue—in their hearts, a world-class martial artist, a founder of the Federation, a true hero!
Yet what were they seeing now? This hero was being held down and battered without the slightest ability to fight back. It seemed as though he had been powerless through the entire ordeal. Their eyes widened, their hearts gripped by the feeling that their faith was collapsing.
The face of one among them was contorted, his lips muttering something, seeming to chant prayers or curse and spit vitriol.
Chen Chuan did not strike again. He stood there, casting his gaze down at the figure in the crater.
Rossard stirred, then slowly crawled up. Chen Chuan's jin was not so easy to endure. Most of the bones in his upper body, including his skull, were fractured, and his internal organs were pummeled into mush. It was only through the constriction of his mutated tissue that he managed to hold himself up.
After staggering back a few paces, he barely stabilized himself. Looking up at Chen Chuan, he once more raised a fighting stance toward him.
Chen Chuan saw his eyes. Within them lay an unyielding resolve that would never retreat, tinged with a slight sense of apology.
Chen Chuan suddenly understood what the man meant. If he could not break through here, then he would die here in battle, showing the Tawatinian people his end and letting them see what fate awaited him, using his demise to awaken those who could be awakened.
However, as the one who struck him down, Chen Chuan would likely become the focal point of the Tawatinian people's hatred.
Since this was what the man wanted, he would grant it to him. As for what the Tawatinian people thought, he did not care in the slightest.
And so, shifting his footing slightly, he stood firm facing him.
Gratitude flickered first in Rossard's eyes, followed by an expression of grim resolve. Propping up his battered and broken body, he stepped forward at a brisk pace. As a battle-hardened veteran, he would never remain frozen in place before an adversary. He would rather fall on the path of a charge!
Reaching Chen Chuan, he let out a low bellow and swung his fist with heavy force. Chen Chuan watched the incoming fist calmly; in his eyes, it was far too slow.
Just as the fist was on the verge of grazing his chest, Chen Chuan raised his own fist, poised to end the duel in a single stroke. Suddenly, he sensed something and raised his arm to block, parrying a ray of sharp light shot toward him. With a boom, that force detonated into a burst of brilliance around his periphery.
Beside him, Rossard, already grievously wounded and having concentrated every ounce of his remaining strength into that punch, had lost his balance. Caught in the concussive force of the clash, he was instantly flipped through the air.
Chen Chuan slowly lowered his arm, where the fire of spirituality still flickered, and looked up toward the viewing stand. A tall, slender figure stood there.
Crossal.
The crowd could not help but turn their gaze toward him as well, followed by a chorus of startled exclamations: "Mr. Crossal?!"
Crossal paid no attention to anyone else. Looking at Chen Chuan, he said, "He has already lost. You may stop."
Chen Chuan turned fully around to face the stand. "Mr. Crossal," he said, "am I to understand that you intend to interfere in a fair duel between the two of us?"
Chapter 1163