"He's got some grit."
In the eastern tavern, Zhou Peide exhaled, tension easing.
He shook his head. "Could've won easily, but no, he had to show off. If he'd used his real skills sooner, he wouldn't be in this mess."
A black-bearded man, middle-aged, nodded approvingly. "Zhou Bai's nailed the monkey form. This fight'll push him higher. His talent's miles ahead of ours."
Wang Yao, one of the Eight Great Vajras, had studied under Zhou Pan for years, running the family clinic with a healer's touch—a rare good name among the group.
"You're too kind, Junior Brother," Zhou Peide said, stroking his beard, pride glinting in his eyes.
Nearby, Yuan Qu stayed silent, a flicker of scorn in his gaze as he listened to their chatter…
…
Across town, the western tavern was grim.
"Looks like Old Zhang's bet's bust," a martial hall elder muttered, shaking his head. "Monkey form, ape intent—that Zhou kid's a rare talent. Old Monkey's got his heir…"
"Hold your horses!" Zhang Yuanshang snapped, face dark, puffing furiously on his water pipe.
…
Up on the arena, the fight raged hotter.
Li Yan took another claw, three gashes tearing his left shoulder, blood streaming.
But he didn't flinch, eyes locked on Zhou Bai.
Trading blows with the Great Law Body was pointless now. This was a death match—patch up one wound, and without breaking Zhou Bai's "circle," more would come.
He had to admit, Zhou Bai was a beast.
His Monkey Fist had true intent, fluid and untamed.
Li Yan felt less like he faced a man and more a wild ape, ruling the mountains.
Not human?
Those feral eyes sparked a thought. Dodging back, Li Yan formed a yang hand seal, inhaling deeply.
Something was off.
A faint, musky stench clung to Zhou Bai—not the cold malice of altar spirits or Wang Widow's immortals, but the raw scent of a living beast.
This kid's cheating!
Li Yan didn't know how, but he was sure: Zhou Bai was using some spell to channel that ape intent.
Anger flared, but his mind sharpened.
Zhang Shitung had said this match was overseen by officials and City God Temple reps to block magic. Clearly, they were slacking—or maybe the Zhou family had them winking at it.
The scent was subtle. Call it out, and the caster could dispel it, no proof left.
If only he had the Three Powers Demon-Suppressing Coin Sword Tassel.
Whoosh!
As he thought, Zhou Bai lunged, crouching low, right claw aiming for his ribs, hissing through his teeth.
Red Fist's hidden force secret: Thread-Passing Sound.
Breath in, breath out, air like threads, piercing gut, rattling tendons.
Zhou Bai's skill was green; repeated hidden force drained him. Now, he leaned on Thread-Passing Sound to keep going.
Paired with his monkey stance, it was a beast's snarl.
Li Yan matched him. With no room to retreat, he deflected with hidden force.
His chest thrummed, chanting the Divine Drum Cloud Thunder Sound mantra.
"Hong!"
A muffled boom, like thunder in his chest.
The noisy crowd below barely noticed—fighters often grunted mid-strike.
But Zhou Bai, up close, felt thunder clap his ears, head ringing, vision blurring, breath thrown into chaos.
The ape scent on him, conjured by secret arts, was like oil on water, fragile.
The Great Cloud Thunder Sound, a Buddhist mantra echoing heaven's thunder and yin-yang flux, could rattle evils. No spell, but it froze the ape aura.
His breath faltered, hidden force collapsing.
Li Yan roared, power surging.
Crack!
Zhou Bai's claw was swatted aside, wrist snapping back, flesh splitting, bone jutting out.
"Ah—!"
Zhou Bai, used to sparring with cautious partners who feared Zhou Pan, had never taken a real hit. The wrist's agony overwhelmed him, sweat pouring as he stumbled back.
The Thunder Sound broke it!
Li Yan caught the ape scent waver.
He didn't know why, but he seized the moment. Legs powered forward, weaving, closing in.
Red Fist was no slouch in speed.
Zhou Bai, caught off guard, couldn't dodge.
Panicked, his left hand flicked, claws like a steel rake, aiming for Li Yan's face to push him back.
But Li Yan, after rounds of sparring, had cracked Monkey Fist's rhythm. His left hand parried, right hook slamming Zhou Bai's gut, left shoving, right counter-fist hammering down.
Red Fist Fast Hand: Uncover, Wipe, Stab, Chop!
Each strike faster than the last.
Li Yan's "Hong" mantra thundered on. Zhou Bai ate the blows, feeling like a demon under lightning's wrath.
Thunder roared in his ears, head buzzing, blood spraying.
Death loomed.
Zhou Bai knew: act, or die.
As Li Yan's final fist fell, he threw up both elbows.
Crack!
Both arms broke.
The force sent Zhou Bai, cornered at the arena's edge, flying back, blood spraying, off the three-zhang drop.
Thud.
He hit the ground, legs twitching, then still.
"Courting death!"
A roar from the eastern tavern. A figure smashed through the window, leaping down.
Zhou Peide, Zhou Bai's father.
Stern and harsh, his love was fierce. His son was his pride.
Seeing him broken, possibly dead, reason fled.
Crash!
Figures leapt from the western tavern.
An elder darted, blocking Zhou Peide.
"Outta my way!" Zhou Peide bellowed, firing a Heart-Piercing Palm.
But the figure vanished.
It was Luo Shihai, Bagua Palm elder.
Bagua steps glide, arms twist, turning like a millstone, mastering close combat.
Luo swayed, circling Zhou Peide's side, palms deflecting his arm, shoulder dropping.
Thud, thud, thud!
Zhou Peide stumbled back, off balance.
Luo stroked his beard, eyes icy. "Life-and-death arena: once it's settled, grudges end. No meddling."
"Your son's life matters, but my disciple's expendable?!"
His fury was raw.
His disciple, a gifted actress, was shamed by a Zhou disciple and took her life. Luo sought vengeance but lost to Zhou Pan in the arena, bottling his rage.
Now, he'd even the score.
Zhang Yuanshang and others closed in, squaring off with Zhou Peide's Vajras.
Tension crackled.
Then Wang Yao stepped up, checked Zhou Bai's pulse, and barked, "Senior Brother, he's alive! Save him!"
"Move! Move!"
Zhou Peide, heedless, rushed with others, hoisting Zhou Bai onto a stretcher, racing off.
No time for threats.
Yuan Qu and the other Vajras scanned the crowd coldly, then left.
Martial artists watched, eyes mixed.
They knew Xianyang's game. This arena split the Divine Fist Society for good. The city's streets would boil.
"Brother Yan, you good?"
Wang Daoxuan and Sha Lifei ignored the drama, rushing to the arena's base, calling to Li Yan, slumped above.
No wonder their panic—Li Yan was a mess, clawed up, blood-soaked.
He opened his mouth, then passed out, collapsing.
They caught him, hearts racing.
But Li Yan grabbed their arms, whispering, "I'm fine. Get me outta here."
They nodded, grabbed a stretcher, and hauled him away fast.
"Nice!"
Both sides were battered, but Xianyang's crowd ate it up. As Sha Lifei and Wang Daoxuan carried Li Yan, cheers trailed them.
Yet some in the crowd glowered, eyes dark…
…
Old street near the Empress Temple, puppet shop.
Crack!
As Li Yan broke Zhou Bai's spell, a red-runed porcelain doll on the altar shattered.
Chen Fa'gui, carving a puppet, froze, then stood, pulling a folded yellow talisman from the shards.
It hit his hand and crumbled to ash…
*(Chapter End)*