The man who leapt onto the stage was dressed in crimson, a color as intensely red as blood, and his expression was cruel and savage. He appeared to be around fifty, and his nose was hooked like a hawk's beak.
"The Hawk King!" "The Hawk King!" were the cries that erupted from the astonished crowd.
As soon as the hooked-nosed man arrived on the stage, he launched an unprovoked attack against Long Jian. To the horror of all spectators, his long talons raked with lightning speed across the large artery in Long Jian's neck.
Long Jian's powerful, colossal body was instantly flung away, like a dried husk from which all blood had been drained, and he crashed violently from the stage. Long Jian had become the second victim of the Martial Arts Manual struggle. The air around them was thick with the scent of fresh blood, making the scene progressively more chilling.
Who was this Hawk King? He hailed from the Hawk Island in the Southern Sea. His signature technique, the Hawk Claw martial art, was developed by imitating the way hawks fly, hunt, and fight one another.
A master of the dark sects, he was notorious for his utter ruthlessness. A practitioner from the shadowy world had made his debut in the battle for the Martial Arts Manual. Was the entire dark martial world now turning its attention to this contest?
The actions of the Hawk King caused a stir among all the martial artists, save for Shu Ying and little monkey, who remained perfectly composed. Shu Ying stepped forward, hands on her hips, and challenged him.
"Who are you? And why did you attack him without warning?"
"Hahaha, my name is the Hawk King! A little girl like you, still wet behind the ears, wouldn't know me. But your 'brother' might. Step back, girl, if you don't want to die. I am not the kind of man to show mercy to women."
The Hawk King's tone was dismissive, clearly showing not the slightest respect for Shu Ying.
"You've come here to compete in martial arts, haven't you? I have too. I challenge you!"
The Hawk King frowned.
"You challenge me? Hahahaha!"
As he spoke, he pushed his palms forward, and the chairs on the far side of the stage shattered and scattered. When Shu Ying witnessed the Hawk King's inner power, a jolt of shock went through her heart. His inner power clearly surpassed hers by a great margin.
Just then, from the back of the spectator seating, a sneering laugh rang out. Though soft, the laugh seemed to blanket the entire small island. Following the sound, a man walked slowly towards the front of the stage.
He wore a Smiling mask on his face and was dressed like a beggar. His arms were long, while his legs were short and bowed. He ambled with a swaying gait, resembling a large monkey. Slung across his back was an old, worn sword.
This was little monkey himself. He had deliberately provoked the Hawk King, unable to tolerate his blatant arrogance. It seemed little monkey still could not control his nature. Not only had he stepped into the limelight, but he had challenged the Hawk King.
Little monkey stood calmly before the stage, turned towards Shu Ying, and spoke.
"A gentle young woman like you should not compete with such a cruel villain, sister. One only disgraces oneself by fighting with a dog."
Shu Ying offered a beautiful smile.
"Mind your own business, spectator. Remain calm."
Little monkey stepped forward.
"I will discipline this dog myself. Please stand aside, little sister."
Shu Ying frowned, scrutinizing little monkey carefully. This man was new to the martial world, yet his demeanor was daring, and his words were resolute. He even dared to compare the Hawk King to a dog. He had to be either mad or supremely skilled in the martial arts.
Seeing the exchange between the two, the Hawk King became enraged.
"You scoundrel, neither man nor monkey! Get up here quickly! You brat who doesn't respect your elders! I'll teach you to tuck your tail and flee!"
Little monkey burst into laughter and leapt onto the stage. Since his movement technique was only mediocre, he landed awkwardly. Though the situation was tense, everyone burst into loud laughter at the sight of little monkey's clumsiness.
However...
The laughter was instantly quenched, as if water had been poured on a flame, the moment little monkey made his first move. The laughing spectators were left open-mouthed, a chilling sensation running down their spines, causing goosebumps to rise.
Though he had leapt onto the stage in a dishevelled manner, the sword in little monkey's hand was already in a striking position. The instant his foot touched the floor, a terrifying sword technique emerged from little monkey's hand:
The Cobra Hunts for Food Sword Art. Little monkey's sword appeared to strike with a contorted, clumsy motion, yet the tip of the blade darted towards the Hawk King's throat with blinding speed.
In truth, the Hawk King was meeting his immediate karma. He had attacked the Steel-bodied Long Jian in precisely the same unprovoked manner. Now, he was on the receiving end of little monkey's sudden attack.
The Hawk King's eyes blurred. Little monkey's sword move was too fast; there was no time to dodge. He only became aware of the icy coldness nearing his throat.
Yet, the Hawk King was no ordinary man. He was a master of the dark sects, one who had successfully navigated countless dangers and battles, and in this life-threatening moment, his experience took over.
He arched his head backward to avoid the sword-tip aiming for his throat and tried to deflect the flat of the blade with his talons. But little monkey's sword strike was not the single blow he expected.
The sword-tip, which had been swaying like a snake's head and trying to pierce the Hawk King's throat, abruptly changed direction and swept downwards seamlessly.
It was the insightful mastery of a swordsman who could smoothly link and cover the gap between one technique and the next.
The downward sweep of the blade slashed right through the Hawk King's chest as he tried to jump back with a somersault. Little monkey's strike was not yet finished.
Spinning his body on the stage floor like a top, he thrust the downward-pointing blade upwards, aiming with the swiftness of a snake catching prey, right between the Hawk King's legs.
The Hawk King lay gruesomely split in two on the stage, the third victim of the competition. Driven by greed, countless more lives were surely yet to be lost.
Even the masters from the Four Great Sects—Shaolin, Wudang, and the others—who were preparing to compete, felt a shiver of terror run down their backs upon witnessing little monkey's horrific sword technique.
The incredibly brave Shu Ying herself seemed quite shaken. She covered her face with her palm and staggered backward.
The martial world was shaken to its core by this brand new sword technique, whether it was the creation of a legendary swordsman or simply a fierce, self-taught art by an unknown youth.
And what was little monkey feeling? Though he had effortlessly killed the Hawk King, his face showed no sign of victory, but rather a peculiar expression of self-disappointment. He was thinking only this:
"I overdid it again! I could have just shredded his clothes, so why did I split his entire chest? And still unsatisfied, why did I follow up with yet another technique?"
Just then, a piercing sound emerged from the distance. It grew louder and closer, swelling to a roar like thunder. The thunderous sound made little monkey's ears ring, his eyes blur, and his head spin.
He quickly sat down on the stage, trying to channel his Inner Power to resist the sonic wave. Though five years of inner power practice had granted him the strength equivalent to fifty years of cultivation, the inner power of the sound's source was overwhelmingly fierce.
A painful spasm hit little monkey's chest, and he vomited a mouthful of blood. Unable to resist the powerful sonic wave, he collapsed on the stage like a corpse, completely unconscious. He did not know how long he had been out. When he finally regained consciousness...
The surroundings were utterly silent. Not only were there no human sounds, but the terrifying silence was such that he could not even hear birdsong, the rustling of leaves, or the chirping of crickets.
Little monkey's head was spinning, and he felt completely drained. How long had he been unconscious? The last thing he remembered was vomiting blood and passing out due to the fierce sonic wave.
Who was the source of that sound? His inner power was fearsome. Was he the peerless inner power master of the world? Little monkey hurriedly sat up from where he lay and surveyed his surroundings. The sight filled him with shock, horror, and a great sense of sorrow and futility.
The small island where the competition was held was littered with dead bodies. Their faces were contorted in expressions of extreme agony just before death.
Blood was oozing from their ears and eyes. It seemed the sonic wave had severed their neural pathways, killing them in unbearable pain.
In truth, little monkey's inner power was so solid and profound that he had merely fainted. Anyone with ordinary inner power would have joined the rest of the martial artists on the journey of no return. It was a blessing that he trained his inner power daily.
Little monkey found a quiet spot and began practicing the Quanzhen Inner Power cultivation method from beginning to end. After about half a day, the tightness in his chest subsided, and his body felt light and refreshed again.
He then dug a large grave, gathered and buried the bodies, and left the inauspicious island behind.
On an unremarkable small island in the middle of Taihu Lake, a great number of white-sect martial artists had lost their lives. They died needlessly, all for the enticement of the Martial Arts Manual, resulting in a significant loss for the white martial world.
The fact that the Hawk King was the only true dark-sect member among the attendees, with the vast majority being white-sect members, was a peculiar detail unknown to anyone. This incident severely weakened the Alliance, giving the Nine Haven Sect a decisive advantage.
After leaving Taihu Lake, little monkey was utterly lost and confused, not knowing where to go or what to do. His spirits sank as he realized none of his goals had materialized yet.
The path to finding his unknown father was lost, and the prospect of establishing the Quanzhen Sect—his master's legacy—was dim. As for punishing his maternal family at the Gongsun Manor, he was unsure if he could defeat his grandfather, Gongsun Yang, in martial arts. Where should he go? What should he do, little monkey?
Finally, little monkey decided to face his grandfather, Gongsun Yang. Let death come if it must. If he couldn't defeat his grandfather, what difference would founding the Quanzhen Sect make?
Only when his martial arts reached the pinnacle would people respect the sect he founded. In truth, little monkey's decision to face Gongsun Yang was reckless, akin to a mad dash into the most critical situation, for the current martial world was on the brink of falling completely under the Nine Haven master's control.