Chapter Nineteen: Beating Wei Wuyai Mercilessly

“Senior brother, this year, a newcomer must duel Wei Wuyai of the Purple Star Pavilion on the Life-and-Death Platform,” a disciple of the Sky Sea Sect hurried to inform his senior brother from the same branch upon meeting him.

“I heard already. I was at the square just now. They say this newcomer, at the fifth level of Spiritual Qi, actually dares to challenge Wei Wuyai. I can't decide whether he's a fearless hero or just an ignorant fool,” replied the senior brother.

“Ah, every year there are always a few troublemakers who think they’re invincible and fearless,” another commented.

On the upper floor of a pavilion, three figures quietly observed the disciples below, listening to their chatter. Among them, a tall man in white robes spoke softly, “How interesting, it's been ages since we've seen such a bold newcomer. No one has dared this since he did.” As he mentioned "him," a flash of apprehension crossed his eyes.

“Big brother, what's so interesting about this? Fifth level versus ninth level, and it's Wei Wuyai of the Purple Star Pavilion. The kid is arrogant, but his talent and cultivation aren't bad,” remarked the figure standing behind the white-robed man, resembling a black tower, his words dismissing Wei Wuyai with a hint of contempt.

“Zikong, you don’t think this newcomer will be like that one back then, do you? He was formidable, but unfortunately chose the wrong path and squandered his talent,” said the gentle voice beside the white-robed man, tinged with regret. Hearing the woman's words, the white-robed man at the railing simply smiled to himself without replying.

At the pavilion at the Ten-Thousand Stone Steps, Wei Wuyai had already departed. Many disciples glanced disdainfully at Luo Hao, most concealing their contempt because Elder Qingyang was present.

“Let’s go! Tomorrow, we’ll see a good show!” Some disciples shook their heads as they left, knowing that only three had passed so far, and they couldn’t linger here forever.

“Senior brother, there’s real drama this year! Among the new disciples, one is going to fight an old disciple just like you did. And his opponent is at the ninth level of Spiritual Qi,” exclaimed a lively young man outside a bamboo hut in a bamboo grove.

“Oh, I wager the newcomer is named Luo Hao. Third brother, this is the little junior brother I told you about who will soon join our Violet Spirit Peak,” replied the figure.

“So he’s from our Violet Spirit Peak! No wonder he’s so tough,” the young man said proudly, as if toughness was the hallmark of Violet Spirit Peak. If Luo Hao were here, he’d recognize this speaker as Zhan Wuji, the one who had brought him to the Sky Sea Sect.

Back in the pavilion, Luo Hao saw everyone dispersing. He stood and bowed to Elder Qingyang, who ignored him completely. Luo Hao didn’t mind and made his way to the ancient pine where Sikong Xuan had meditated. By now, Yan Longyuan and Sikong Xuan had already left. Luo Hao found a comfortable spot beneath the pine and promptly fell into a deep sleep.

“Big sister, how can he sleep like this? He’s going to fight for his life tomorrow and still has the nerve to nap,” Su Yao complained, watching Luo Hao sleep under the ancient pine. Su Yu and Han Ling’er could only remark on his carefree attitude.

“Perhaps he has some special skill. After all, he’s the first to pass the Ten-Thousand Steps at only the fifth level of Spiritual Qi,” Han Ling’er said calmly, watching Luo Hao drooling in his sleep. She couldn’t explain it, but she sensed a unique aura about him.

“Forget it. Tomorrow, we’ll just watch him get killed by Wei Wuyai. We don’t know him anyway, so why bother?” Su Yao said, her face full of exasperation, and ignored Luo Hao.

Under the night sky, the Sky Sea Sect was illuminated by a silver moon, its soft radiance cascading over the Ten-Thousand Stone Steps and the sleeping figure under the ancient pine. As the moon hung high, Luo Hao awoke, stretched, his body crackling like roasting beans, and exhaled heavily.

To Su Yao, it seemed like Luo Hao was merely sleeping, but in truth he was secretly circulating the Twin Dragon Supreme Art to heal his injuries. The art was far too conspicuous when used at full force, so he had to mask it this way. Rest was necessary, for climbing the Ten-Thousand Steps had exhausted him.

“Greetings, lovely senior sisters! I am Luo Hao,” he called out cheerfully to Su Yu and Han Ling’er in the pavilion as soon as he awoke. He was simply too tired last night; otherwise, his cheeky nature wouldn’t have let him ignore the beauties.

He scanned the two women, each with her own charm, his gaze lingering on their figures. When his eyes met Han Ling’er’s icy stare, he sheepishly grinned. “Senior sister, you’re awake.”

“We’re all awake,” Su Yu replied, her face aglow with warmth. Dressed in violet, she was like a lilac blooming in the night, radiant and delicate.

“You lecher! You’re fighting Wei Wuyai tomorrow and you’re not cultivating?” Su Yao snapped, glaring fiercely at Luo Hao, her face puffed with anger for reasons unknown.

“That toothless fellow—I’ll teach him a lesson in no time,” Luo Hao replied, full of contempt, his fearless demeanor leaving Han Ling’er and Su Yu shaking their heads in silent dismay.

“He’s not toothless! His name is Wei Wuyai.”

“All the same—Wuyai, Wuyai, sounds like ‘without teeth’.”

“Wouldn’t ‘shameless’ be better?” Han Ling’er remarked.

“Senior sister Han, you’re brilliant! I never realized how amusing Senior brother Wei’s name is,” Su Yao exclaimed as if discovering a new world. The four spent the night chatting. Luo Hao had to admire Elder Qingyang’s composure—despite their noise, the old man remained in deep meditation.

When the first rays of dawn illuminated the sculpture in the Sky Sea Sect’s square, all disciples rose for morning practice. The Ten-Thousand Steps came alive as dozens more descended to the square.

Luo Hao immediately spotted Dongfang Ming, with whom he’d had friction, and two others he didn’t know but had seen before. As his gaze swept over, three pairs of eyes looked back—Dongfang Ming, Sword Lingyun, and Lin Feng. Luo Hao didn’t recognize the latter two but nodded to them in a friendly manner.

“Little bastard, are you ready for your death?” The hateful voice of Wei Wuyai rang out, drawing the attention of Dongfang Ming and dozens of others. They were puzzled by the commotion.

“If you’re so eager to die, I’ll send you on your way sooner. Let’s battle on the Life-and-Death Platform,” Luo Hao replied quietly, but Dongfang Ming and the others heard clearly—this newcomer was challenging an old disciple. Wei Wuyai snorted and turned away; Luo Hao immediately followed.

“This fellow is certainly not one for peace!” Sword Lingyun and Lin Feng exchanged glances, sighing inwardly. Dongfang Ming sneered, thinking Luo Hao deserved what was coming for provoking an old disciple.

As Luo Hao and Wei Wuyai headed off, the newly ascended youths followed, unwilling to miss the spectacle. Su Yao, after a few words with Su Yu, also made her way to the platform.

The Life-and-Death Platform stood at the center of the square, the place where Sky Sea Sect disciples resolved their conflicts. Life and death were not questioned; participation was voluntary, and after the duel, seeking revenge was forbidden—violators would have their cultivation abolished and be expelled.

When the two arrived, the steward was already reciting the rules. Luo Hao eyed the stone platform, as black as obsidian, and felt a pungent, violent aura—many lives had surely been claimed here.

By now, a crowd had gathered, mostly old disciples. Luo Hao also spotted Dongfang Ming, Yan Longyuan, and Sikong Xuan among the new disciples.

“Senior brother Wei will win for sure. A fifth level newcomer is courting death!”

“Yeah, he doesn’t know his limits, daring to provoke Senior brother Wei. He’s clueless,” came the sneering remarks from the Purple Star Pavilion disciples. Wei Wuyai’s peers looked at Luo Hao with mockery, as if his fate was already sealed.

Wei Wuyai stood on the stone platform, hands behind his back, projecting the air of a master. Luo Hao couldn’t help but sneer, “Stop showing off. If you want to fight, hurry up—aren’t you eager to die?”

“I was going to let you live a few more minutes, but you’re hopeless,” Wei Wuyai growled. Suddenly, his body shot toward Luo Hao like a cannonball, prompting gasps from the crowd. A storm of spiritual power gathered in his palm.

“Die, wretch! Flaming Palm!”

With a furious roar, his palm made the air tremble, descending from above Luo Hao. A giant flaming hand struck down, relentless, aiming to burn him alive.

Su Yao, arriving just in time, watched anxiously. The temperature around the platform soared as the flames swept through, terrifying the warriors nearby. Wei Wuyai’s strike could kill even a warrior at the eighth level; he clearly intended to give Luo Hao no chance. Wei Wuyai sneered, as if already seeing Luo Hao perish beneath his palm.

But at that moment, a vast dragon’s roar erupted from the flames. An aura of wild dominance swept over the crowd, as if transporting them back to a primitive, untamed era. From within the fire, a flash of gold shot forth—Luo Hao’s fist.

The golden fist was like a massive cauldron, suppressing the four corners of the earth. Luo Hao, a peerless battle demon, shattered the flames with a single punch, his golden fist fierce and unyielding, accompanied by a dragon’s thunderous roar.

“Bang!”

The domineering fist, like a golden cauldron, smashed the descending flaming palm. The shockwave forced the warriors around the platform to retreat.

With a wild shout, Luo Hao cried, “Break!”

His cauldron-like golden fist ground the flaming palm into nothing. With a heavy stomp, Luo Hao’s figure shot toward Wei Wuyai like a streak of light. Wei Wuyai’s heart raced, his grin replaced by grave concern—he hadn’t expected Luo Hao to shatter his Flaming Palm with one punch.

“Tiger King Salutes the Moon!”

Luo Hao’s punch surged like a dragon, swift and unstoppable. Wei Wuyai, caught off guard, crossed his arms hurriedly, layers of spiritual power shielding him. The golden fist crashed mercilessly onto his arms, unleashing a hurricane of force.

“Crack!”

Wei Wuyai’s layered defenses shattered like glass, and the terrifying force struck his arms without mercy.

“Bang!”

Wei Wuyai’s face twisted in agony, a low growl escaping his throat as he struggled against the onslaught. But Luo Hao’s Tiger King Art, powered by dragon force, was fierce and domineering, far too terrifying for ordinary men to withstand. Before the stunned eyes of the crowd, Wei Wuyai was sent flying, his feet carving deep grooves into the black stone platform.

“He actually blocked it—and suppressed Wei Wuyai! That’s a ninth level warrior!” Many Sky Sea Sect disciples were stunned, wondering if their own martial arts were a sham.

On the platform, Wei Wuyai’s cold face darkened further. He squinted, murderous intent gleaming in his eyes as he stared at Luo Hao. No one knew better than Wei Wuyai how heavy that punch had been; his arm bones were already cracked.

“Kill!” he spat, launching an attack at Luo Hao. Behind him, golden dragon force soared, nearly blotting out the sky. Luo Hao’s figure vanished in a step, reappearing like a god or demon, unleashing countless golden fist shadows that enveloped the platform.

“Flaming Palm—break it!”

Under the golden shadows, Wei Wuyai sensed mortal danger. He unleashed all his spiritual power, summoning a massive flaming palm, over ten yards wide, to meet the golden fists.

“Bang!”

Golden fists collided with the flaming palm, fire and gold exploding in every direction. The warriors surrounding the platform retreated again, their shock beyond words.

The golden dragon force was so overwhelming that they could hardly speak. How could a fifth-level warrior possess such terrifying power—like a vast ocean?

Many disciples looked at Luo Hao with fear, but he paid them no heed. He stepped forward, golden dragon force boiling anew. With a raise of his hand, it transformed into a golden dragon, violently piercing the flames and charging at Wei Wuyai.

Wei Wuyai was enraged—being forced on the defensive by a newcomer was a disgrace. He gathered his spiritual power in his palms, which turned dark red, exuding a sinister aura as if dripping blood.

“Blood Calamity Demon Claw!”

Before countless eyes, Wei Wuyai’s palms became claws, meeting the incoming golden dragon head-on. His blood claws, like ghastly hands, collided with the dragon, bursting with dazzling blood light and a nauseating stench. The dragon wailed as it was crushed by the claws.

“It’s over. Die!” With a tap of his foot, Wei Wuyai vanished and reappeared, his blood claws slashing at Luo Hao’s head, leaving five deep scars in the air. His face twisted, determined to pierce Luo Hao’s skull.

“Out of my way!”

With a roar, black hair flying, golden dragon force surged upward. A golden fist, powerful enough to shatter mountains, shot up to meet the descending blood claws.

“Tiger King Salutes the Moon!”

A roar shook eternity, and the faint image of a white tiger appeared. The white tiger, master of slaughter, unleashed a terrifying aura like a tidal wave.

The killing intent surged as the white tiger’s phantom slashed, tearing through space and joining Luo Hao’s golden fist. Instantly, the tiger roared, the dragon howled, and the golden fist shattered the blood claws, the terrifying force crashing into Wei Wuyai’s chest.

“Divine mastery of martial arts! That punch reached the realm of divine unity—how is it possible for a fifth-level warrior?” The spectators could no longer remain calm; Luo Hao’s punch had achieved a state that many warriors could only dream of.

“Pfft!”

Wei Wuyai spat blood, his chest deeply caved in, his body crashing to the ground. Luo Hao pressed his advantage, golden light flashing at his feet, his fist smashing Wei Wuyai’s face into a bloody mess.

“Ah!”

Wei Wuyai screamed, stumbling away, unable to resist. Luo Hao had no intention of letting him escape—the golden light rapidly expanded in Wei Wuyai’s pupils.

“Crack!”

Another punch hammered Wei Wuyai’s chest, the already collapsed chest emitting a chilling sound of bone breaking. More blood sprayed forth, mixed with bits of flesh and bone.

Wei Wuyai was utterly powerless, and with a final shout, Luo Hao punched him into the platform, creating a huge crater with cracks spreading around it. Within the pit, Wei Wuyai was barely conscious.

Luo Hao stood, his gaze icy as he swept the surroundings. At that moment, all eyes around the platform instinctively avoided him, no one daring to speak. The disciples of the Purple Star Pavilion who had jeered before now looked at Wei Wuyai in terror.