Wang Zifan stood amidst the buzzing crowd, his thoughts still consumed by the imposing figure of the Burly Man who had just declared his challenge.
The air on the fighting stage crackled with anticipation, a stark contrast to the distant, serene mountains that framed the arena. The Burly Man, a mountain of muscle with a voice like thunder, puffed out his chest, his gaze sweeping across the spectators.
"If anyone has the courage," he boomed, his voice echoing, "then come and fight with me!"
His eyes, sharp and predatory, then landed on Bai Lin, specifically on the elegant sword sheathed at Bai Lin's hip. A greedy glint appeared in the Burly Man's eyes. "That guy has a sword," he thought, a crude grin spreading across his face. "It looks very expensive.
If I sell that sword, I will get a lot of money."He pointed a thick, calloused finger directly at Bai Lin. "Young man," he sneered, his voice laced with overbearing arrogance, "will you fight me?"
A faint, almost imperceptible smile touched Bai Lin's lips. It was a smile that spoke of amusement rather than challenge, a quiet acknowledgment of the Burly Man's audacity.
"Interesting," Bai Lin murmured, his voice calm and surprisingly soft, a stark contrast to the Burly Man's bluster. The crowd murmured, their collective attention now fully focused on the two figures.
The Burly Man, mistaking Bai Lin's calm for apprehension, pressed on, his tone now laced with a hint of condescension. "If you can defeat me, I will give you the Death Herb I possess.
But if I win," he paused, allowing his eyes to drift back to the gleaming sword, "you will give me your sword." He clearly believed the sword was already his.
Bai Lin's smile widened just a fraction. "If you are offering such stakes," he replied, his voice still soft but now carrying an undeniable edge of playful challenge, "then I will fight. I haven't had a proper fight in a long time." With a casual, almost lazy stride, he ascended the stage.
The crowd watched with bated breath, eager for the spectacle. Once on the platform, Bai Lin surveyed the Burly Man with an almost dismissive air. "I don't need to pull out my sword to fight children like you," he stated, his hands clasped behind his back, exuding an aura of serene confidence.
The Burly Man's face twisted into a furious scowl, his pride wounded. "How arrogant!" he roared, his muscles tensing. "If I don't beat you today, I'll change my name to Idiot!" With a guttural cry, he lunged, a whirlwind of fists and raw power. The audience erupted in cheers, their excitement palpable.
The Burly Man channeled his spiritual energy, his fist glowing faintly as he unleashed a "Lighting Fist" attack. It was a swift, powerful blow, seemingly impossible to dodge. The attack connected with Bai Lin's chest with a sickening thud. A wave of triumphant satisfaction washed over the Burly Man.
"Now speak," he scoffed, breathing heavily, "earlier you were barking too much!" He wiped a bead of sweat from his brow, confident in his victory.
"Oh, you idiot!" a calm voice retorted from directly behind him. The Burly Man froze, his eyes widening in disbelief. He spun around, his jaw dropping.
Standing there, completely unharmed, was none other than Bai Lin, a faint, almost pitying smile on his face. The figure he had struck had dissolved into shimmering motes of light, an after-image.
His smug grin vanished, replaced by a look of bewildered frustration.
The Burly Man's eyes narrowed, a flicker of surprise in their depths. "Oh, you've practiced speed-related martial arts," he conceded, a grudging respect entering his voice.
"However, now you will not be able to withstand my next attack. I have been practicing this technique for the last ten years! If you want your well-being, then surrender now." He tried to regain his composure, but a hint of desperation was already creeping into his tone.
Bai Lin simply stretched, a small, dismissive yawn escaping his lips. "Mere ants," he mumbled, as if commenting on a trivial matter. The crowd exchanged bewildered glances. Was this young man truly so confident, or just foolish?
"You're going to die by my hands today!" the Burly Man shrieked, his face contorting with rage. He gathered every ounce of his spiritual power, his body glowing with a golden aura.
The air around him shimmered as he unleashed his most powerful technique: the Hundred Hands of Buddha. Behind him, a colossal, ethereal manifestation began to form – a shimmering, multi-armed Spiritual Dharma Body of Buddha, each hand radiating immense power. The sheer aura pressure emanating from it was overwhelming, causing the audience to gasp and recoil.
"There is a lot of aura pressure coming out!" someone in the crowd exclaimed, their voice filled with awe and fear.
Bai Lin watched the spectacle unfold, his expression unchanged. He merely raised an eyebrow. "Not bad," he acknowledged, his voice surprisingly calm amidst the maelstrom of energy, "but it won't work for me."
With a casual flick of his wrist, he extended his index and middle fingers, shaping them into a mock sword. There was no grand display of power, no dazzling light – just a simple, precise motion.
He then performed a single, elegant slash with his 'finger sword' towards the immense Dharma Body.
The Burly Man tried to defend himself with the myriad of the Thousand Buddha Hands, forming a protective barrier of spiritual energy. But Bai Lin's attack, deceptively simple, bypassed everything. It wasn't a direct collision of power; it was something far more profound.
The energy from Bai Lin's two fingers sliced through the spiritual defenses as if they were made of mist, striking the Burly Man directly.
A guttural cry of pain escaped the Burly Man's lips as he stumbled backward, clutching his chest. Blood gushed from his mouth, staining his beard.
He coughed violently, his eyes wide with shock and disbelief. "How is this even possible?" he wheezed, his voice filled with despair. "My ten years of hard work have gone to dust! Wh-Who the hell are you?" His once imposing figure now seemed small and broken, his confidence shattered.
Bai Lin simply looked at him, his expression cold and unyielding. "You don't need to know who I am," he stated, his voice devoid of emotion. "Give me the Death Herb and get out of here, or else you will die today."
The threat hung in the air, chilling and absolute.
The Burly Man, visibly trembling with fear, quickly retrieved a small, dark herb from a pouch at his waist. His hands shook as he extended it towards Bai Lin. Without a word, he turned and stumbled off the stage, his once proud stride reduced to a hurried shuffle, disappearing into the stunned crowd.
The audience remained silent for a moment, then erupted in a flurry of whispers and exclamations. "Who is this guy?" someone whispered in awe. "He defeated the Burly Man, who was on the fifth layer of the Foundation Establishment Stage! Is he on the Core Formation Stage?
He defeated the Burly Man with just a small attack!" Their voices were filled with a mixture of fear, respect, and utter astonishment.
Wang Zifan, who had watched the entire exchange unfold, felt a surge of respect and curiosity. He gazed at Bai Lin, his mind reeling.
"Bai Lin is very strong," he murmured to himself, his thoughts racing. "What will be his true power?" The question lingered, a mystery he longed to unravel.
Suddenly, Bai Lin, who had been standing a few paces away, seemed to shimmer and then reappeared directly beside Wang Zifan, as if teleporting. He placed a gentle hand on Wang Zifan's shoulder, his eyes holding a profound wisdom.
"This world is very cruel," Bai Lin spoke, his voice low and contemplative, "everyone thinks about themselves. If you want to survive in this world, just think about yourself." It was a harsh truth, delivered with an almost detached serenity.
Then, with a slight tilt of his head, he pressed the small, dark Death Herb into Wang Zifan's hand. "This is a gift from me for you," Bai Lin said, his lips curving into a rare, genuine smile. His gaze seemed to pierce through Wang Zifan, looking beyond the surface. "Kid, I am not able to see your destiny. You're special.
" With those enigmatic words, Bai Lin turned and began to walk away, his form fading into the bustling crowd, leaving Wang Zifan standing alone, holding the mysterious herb.
"Goodbye, Bai Lin!" Wang Zifan called out, a strange mix of gratitude and wonder in his voice. "When will we meet next?"
Bai Lin paused, glancing over his shoulder. A faint, knowing smile touched his lips. "It depends on destiny," he replied, his voice carried away by the wind, before he completely vanished from sight.
Wang Zifan clutched the Death Herb, his mind buzzing with the day's events. The encounter with Bai Lin had stirred something profound within him, a realization of the vastness of the world and the incredible power that existed within it.
He turned and started his journey home, the words "You're special" echoing in his ears, forever changed by the enigmatic duel.