Chen Chuan looked down at the headless torso at his feet.
This was actually just a part of the true body's limbs, with no fatal flaw in the absolute sense; even if the head were severed, it could still regrow.
For instance, right now, on the head that had flown off, the mutated tissue writhed ceaselessly, trying to return to the torso, while the flesh at the severed neck before him continued to twitch and heave, attempting to regenerate.
However, when his saber slashed through just now, the fire of spirituality had penetrated into the wound, inhibiting its vitality and preventing the body from knitting back together.
Beyond that, a cyan-tinted Pure Spiritual Light was currently spreading through the interiors of both severed pieces.
During the clash of that earlier slash, most of the mutated tissue within Crossal's vessel had been shattered to pulp, and the Pure Spiritual Light had seeped in at that very moment, wreaking havoc back and forth within.
No sooner had the mutated tissue recovered a fraction than it was destroyed again. Yet precisely because of its immensely potent vitality, the two sides were locked in a stalemate for the moment. This caused the body to twitch continuously where it lay, limbs shuddering nonstop, the upper torso rising only to collapse again.
On the surface, it looked as though this beheaded body was repeatedly kowtowing on the ground. Though the head was already gone, it appeared grotesque and bizarre.
The crowd around the arena stared blankly. Just then, a flash of light suddenly went off nearby. They turned their heads and saw someone holding a camera, snapping a picture of this scene.
Only then did the others finally come to their senses. In particular, several media personnel hesitated for a moment, gritted their teeth, and pulled out their cameras one after another, clicking away at the scene ahead.
After all, the surrounding field equipment was barely functioning due to the interference just now; to capture the moment, cameras were the only viable option.
Chen Chuan turned his gaze. The head Crossal had left to the side was already completely scorched. Crossal was clearly incapable of conceding defeat himself, so after a thought, Chen Chuan decided to lend him a hand.
And so, under everyone's stunned gazes, he raised his fist. A brilliant glow flared over his knuckles. After pausing for a brief moment, he slammed it fiercely downward. With a deafening boom, a blinding flash exploded violently.
A moment later, a rumble like rolling thunder passed. The billowing dust and smoke drifted slowly away, revealing a crater below—with nothing left inside.
He slowly straightened up, wisps of white smoke still rising from his knuckles.
By now, the rain overhead had grown heavier. As it fell upon him, it evaporated instantly, turning into rising plumes of steam that formed a faint white mist above. The air around him warped slightly from the intense heat, making him appear godlike and unreal.
The arena fell dead silent. Most people stared ahead with dull, glazed eyes, having practically lost the ability to react. Even as raindrops blew across their faces with the wind, they did not notice.
They could hardly believe that a Throne martial artist had been slain right before their eyes by Chen Chuan.
The more deeply one understood power, the less capable one was of accepting this outcome. It felt as though their once-solid worldview had been shattered to pieces.
Ryan's pupils dilated slightly, his eyes filled with shock and awe.
He knew that what Chen Chuan had faced today was not Crossal's true body, merely a part of his limbs. Yet even so, it was not something the three prisoners from the Blockade Hall could compare to. In other words, for Crossal to dispatch this part of his limbs here meant he was confident he could suppress all three of them.
Yet what was he seeing now? Chen Chuan had defeated him in a straightforward, unembellished duel—and appeared completely unscathed himself.
He hadn't been able to see the entire process clearly, but why did this conclusion look so much like Chen Chuan's previous fight against Rossard?
Was there really any major difference?
At that moment, as if suddenly remembering something, he immediately looked toward the time displayed on the light screen before him. However, the field had not yet recovered from the impact earlier; flickering and shaking violently, nothing could be seen clearly.
So he promptly raised the hand wearing his watch—only to discover that his hand was trembling slightly.
This was because the mutated tissue within his body had sensed an intense threat.
He took a breath, reached out with his other hand to steady it, and checked the time.
11:17.
He recalled that the battle had started at 11:12.
In other words, the entire duel had lasted less than five minutes...
It had ended in a mere five minutes?
He looked up at Chen Chuan's silhouette, unable to help recalling the description of a "variable." His gaze turned dark and profound. *So he truly is a variable...*
*A person like this is truly troublesome. It seems only a Throne martial artist arriving in full could defeat him. But...*
*Could even that really be done?*
In the past, he would never have doubted it, but now, his conviction began to waver.
The members of the Martial Artists Council sat in their seats. Though their faces appeared devoid of expression on the surface, their slightly hurried breathing and taut expressions all revealed the turmoil deep within their hearts.
Had such a thing ever happened before?
They searched their memories. They were unsure about the Old Era, but in the New Era, perhaps there were only unverified accounts buried in classified archives. As for anything public and genuinely verifiable, this might very well be the sole precedent before their eyes.
They couldn't help but realize that they might very well be witnessing a historic event worthy of being recorded.
One of them spoke up immediately: "Send a—"
The moment he opened his mouth, he found his voice hoarse. After coughing a few times, he continued, "Send a telegram to headquarters. Report the outcome of this battle as truthfully as possible. Erm... remember to keep the wording tactful."
Considering that Crossal himself was still around, they felt they should be a bit mindful and not completely strip him of face.
Leaning on his sword, Rossard stood in the distance. Having witnessed the entire process, he swept his eyes across the platform. On one side of the arena, the faces of several Tawatinian martial artists were filled with disbelief and shock. One of them looked completely devastated, as if the faith in his heart had collapsed; he hadn't shown such despair even when he himself had been struck down earlier.
As for the delegates from the Tawatina settlement who had attended today, some held their heads in their hands, some stared blankly, and others wailed aloud, banging their heads against the backs of their chairs as if the sky itself had fallen.
Seeing this, Rossard's gaze turned complicated. He gave a sudden sigh, shook his head after a moment as if letting go of something, and turned to walk straight out.
Having dealt with the matter before him, Chen Chuan walked over to retrieve his scabbard. With a deft twirl of the Xuejun Saber, he sheathed it, then turned and walked toward the arena stands. When the people in the stands saw him approaching, they stood up involuntarily.
Raindrops fell all around, yet every drop dispersed into wisps of mist; even from a distance, people could feel a wave of scorching heat.
Everyone watched with awestruck eyes as Chen Chuan approached, tracking him as he walked steadily up the stairs, their gazes following him uncontrollably.
Chen Chuan came directly to the Great Shun Delegation. The eyes of the delegation members sparkled as they looked at him.
Chen Chuan said to Delegation Leader Xie, "Leader Xie, it's over. I think we can leave now."
Delegation Leader Xie nodded. He glanced at the other people in the venue, then said, "Let's go," and rose from his seat. Together with Chen Chuan, he led the delegation members along the aisle toward the exit.
The members of the Martial Artists Council watched them leave. One member said in a thoroughly certain tone, "After today, every nation and major corporation will surely raise this man's influence rating."
The other members present nodded in agreement. Currently, nations and corporations across the world maintained influence assessments for world-renowned martial artists. Chen Chuan had already possessed a degree of influence before, but none of it could compare to what he had accomplished today.
To defeat a Cave Mystery View martial artist head-on, even if only a part of his body, was something that would inevitably draw the attention of the highest echelons across all nations and major corporations.
The leader of the council's delegation picked up his hat with one hand and put it on. "I have a feeling that we, too, have witnessed history."
The others couldn't help but nod.
For such a young martial artist to demonstrate this level of capability meant that even if he never made another ounce of progress in the future, he already stood at a height that the vast majority of fighters and martial artists could only look up to. Not to mention, based on what they knew from past precedent, his ascent to the ranks of the Thrones was likely only a matter of time.
The person in charge said, "Let us leave as well. We have a great deal to handle today."
When Chen Chuan and his group walked out of the venue, the rest of the attendees were also leaving one after another. The Tawatinian martial artists were nowhere to be seen, seemingly having slipped away quietly while the Great Shun Delegation was not paying attention. The delegates from the Tawatina settlement hung their heads low, their eyes completely drained of luster.
On the other hand, the Great Shun Delegation was in high spirits. Striding forward with heads held high, their footsteps were powerful and resolute, naturally projecting an imposing presence that commanded the gaze of onlookers. Looking straight ahead, even the ordinary members carried an air of disdainful pride—a privilege reserved solely for the victors.
As for those despondent Tawatinians, they didn't even deign to glance at them now.
Once everyone boarded their dedicated vehicles, they returned straight to their quarters.
Though Delegation Leader Xie appeared composed on the surface, his heart surged with emotion. Once the car started moving, he asked the telegraph operator, "Has it been sent?"
The telegraph operator replied, "Leader, it has been sent. The homeland might receive it a bit later, but the First Delegation should have received it by now. No reply yet, but according to protocol, we'll have word within half an hour at the latest."
Delegation Leader Xie gave a nod of acknowledgment and turned to his assistant nearby. "Did you capture everything?"
The assistant raised his camera and said in a slightly excited voice, "Don't worry, Leader, I caught every bit of it."
Delegation Leader Xie nodded. Those final few scenes held immense propaganda value in his eyes, suitable for sending back and publishing in prominent domestic periodicals.
Chapter 1168