The moment these words were spoken, Wu Xiaofei's hand paused slightly as he poured tea, while Zhao Hufeng sucked in a sharp breath as if startled, his face filled with terror.
"Oh? You want this old lady as your opponent?"
Fan Xinglou, however, suddenly broke into a delighted grin upon hearing this.
At the same time, a terrifying pressure erupted from her body, surging directly toward Roy. In an instant, Roy felt an immense weight pressing down on him, as if his entire body had been filled with lead. Even his internal organs seemed to be under crushing force.
"That's right. I'm calling you out."
Yet Roy's expression remained unchanged—even defiant.
"Hahahaha! Fine! If you're not afraid of death, this old lady will play with you!"
Fan Xinglou grinned wildly, letting out a boisterous laugh as she leaped up from the rosewood table.
Her fighting spirit ignited, she didn't even bother with formalities—midair, she immediately lashed out with a kick aimed straight at Roy.
So fast!
Roy's heart tightened. This speed was no less than his own at full power.
What was even more unbelievable was that despite such terrifying velocity, not a single gust of wind stirred around Fan Xinglou. It was as if she hadn't cut through the air but had instead merged with the wind itself—soundless, eerie, sending chills down one's spine.
Faced with this lightning-fast kick, Roy reacted with astonishing reflexes, throwing a punch straight at the sole of Fan Xinglou's foot. His fist tore through the air with a sharp whistle, as if even the atmosphere had been shattered by the blow.
After all, Fan Xinglou was only nine years old. Even if her true age exceeded a thousand years, she was still confined to a child's body, inevitably limited by short limbs.
That was what Roy thought.
But the next moment, he realized just how wrong he was.
Just as his fist was about to collide with Fan Xinglou's stubby leg, her small foot shifted at the last instant, narrowly avoiding his punch—and instead, her kick landed squarely on his chest.
The impact felt like being struck by a high-speed train. A dull pain exploded in Roy's chest, his vision blurred, and his entire body was sent flying uncontrollably. He crashed into the hall's wall, causing the defensive barrier inscribed upon it to ripple violently like stormy waves before finally settling.
Roy landed on the ground, certain that at least three ribs had been broken—and that was with him reinforcing his defense with prana at full strength. Without it, that single kick might have left him on the brink of death.
Mana Circulation activated. Body Modification engaged. Bones realigned. Organs stabilized. Blood and energy calmed.
Roy kipped up from the ground in one swift motion, then pushed off with his feet, unleashing his monstrous physical prowess and prana simultaneously. He charged at Fan Xinglou with speed nearly matching hers.
Only to be kicked away again.
He got up once more—only to be sent flying once more.
Every time he stubbornly rushed at Fan Xinglou, she would punt him away like a soccer ball, all while moving with effortless grace, as if it were the easiest thing in the world. It was downright infuriating.
"Will he be alright?"
Zhao Hufeng watched nervously as Roy was tossed around by Fan Xinglou.
"He'll be fine."
Wu Xiaofei's gaze fell upon Roy, his tone sounding utterly convinced that Roy would be fine.
"Master isn't being particularly serious."
In the arena.
Roy rose from the ground once more, the look in his eyes behind the mask growing sharper. With a step, this time he didn't rely on explosive force but instead moved toward Fan Xinglou with silent footwork.
"Now this is a bit interesting!"
Fan Xinglou's face broke into a wild, beast-like grin as she took a step forward and struck out with a palm.
"But it's still far from enough!"
Her hand, half the size of Roy's, accurately seized his mask and slammed him into the ground, crashing through the red bricks beneath. The earth shattered in a several-meter radius.
"...I surrender."
Roy fell silent for a moment before helplessly raising his hands in surrender.
"You're giving up already? You seem pretty durable to me!"
Fan Xinglou reluctantly let go, her gaze lingering on Roy with a meaningful look.
Roy shuddered under her stare and quickly scrambled to his feet, putting distance between them.
Sure, he could take a beating—but he had no intention of becoming a punching bag.
"How much of your strength did you use?"
Roy checked his mask and found that despite Fan Xinglou's crushing grip, it hadn't cracked in the slightest. He couldn't help but marvel at her flawless control over her strength.
"Ten out of ten in martial arts."
Fan Xinglou smacked her lips, staring at her palm with a nostalgic expression, as if itching to beat him up again.
Then, as if guessing Roy's next question, she added,
"Compared to my prime, I'm only at about thirty or forty percent now. This body's still too small."
Got it.
Roy nodded in understanding.
In other words, no matter what, he stood no chance of winning.
In her child form, Fan Xinglou's martial prowess was only about thirty to forty percent of her peak. Her physical strength wasn't actually superior to Roy's, but her control over prana was far more refined.
And most crucially, the gap in skill was simply too vast.
Despite their comparable physical abilities—and her being in a nine-year-old's body—Roy couldn't even graze a single hair on Fan Xinglou. That alone spoke volumes. The difference in skill was so immense that Roy couldn't even see the end of it.
"Next, you'll spar with Xiaofei!"
Fan Xinglou returned to the pearwood table, picking up the tea Wu Xiaofei had poured. The temperature was just right.
"After fighting me, you should understand I'm not a suitable opponent for you, right?"
"I understand."
Roy nodded helplessly.
The gap between him and Fan Xinglou was too great. In pure martial arts, Roy hadn't even mastered the basics, while Fan Xinglou stood at the pinnacle of this world.
Fighting her only meant getting thrashed—there was nothing he could learn from her.
As for Wu Xiaofei, while he was undoubtedly strong, he definitely wasn't as monstrous as Fan Xinglou. Sparring with him would give Roy a clearer perspective and allow him to learn much more.
"Please guide me."
At Fan Xinglou's signal, Wu Xiaofei stepped forward, offering Roy a respectful fist-and-palm salute.
His expression was as calm as a still lake, his entire being as unruffled as an ancient well—the bearing of a master was unmistakable.
Roy also performed a cupped fist salute, then without wasting words, threw a direct punch at Wu Xiaofei.
Wu Xiaofei sensed the power behind the strike, his expression growing slightly more serious, yet his face showed no fear. He stepped forward to meet Roy, arms encircling as if using four ounces to deflect a thousand pounds, redirecting Roy's seemingly unstoppable force.
Roy staggered, and Wu Xiaofei immediately pressed forward, attempting to close the distance. But Roy's reflexes were extraordinary—even as his balance wavered, he adjusted in an instant and lashed out with a kick toward Wu Xiaofei.
The two began a prolonged duel within the grand hall.
By unspoken agreement, neither used prana, relying solely on raw physical strength and martial techniques.
When exhausted, they rested; once recovered, they resumed. The high-intensity combat allowed Roy to quickly recognize his own shortcomings, absorbing every technique Wu Xiaofei displayed like a sponge.
And so, they fought—for an entire day.
***
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