The murmurs from the Arena turned into an electrifying hum of excitement as Si Ming approached the stage once more. His name now carried weight—a sharp contrast to the obscurity he'd once lived in. As each match passed, it became evident to the crowd that Si Ming was not just another disciple hoping for fleeting recognition.
The next opponent was the top eight: Zhu Hong, a muscular disciple known for his overwhelming power and explosive elemental techniques. If Xu Fang and Liu Yan had relied on precision and strategy, Zhu Hong was a brute force fighter, using sheer aggression to overpower his adversaries.
Zhu Hong stepped into the Arena, his presence looming. His broad shoulders were tense with anticipation, and his fists were wrapped tightly, pulsating with Qi. His fiery aura, tinged with a faint red glow, hinted at his mastery of fire-element Qi techniques. The crowd roared with approval, knowing Zhu Hong's fights were always a spectacle.
"Si Ming," Zhu Hong called out with a booming voice, his tone mocking. "You've beaten Xu Fang and Liu Yan. Good for you. But let's see how far that cocky smile takes you when you're up against real power."
Si Ming stepped into the ring calmly, his posture relaxed yet prepared. He placed a hand lightly on the hilt of his sword, the protagonist's former weapon, which gleamed faintly under the light.
"Talk all you want," Si Ming said, his tone steady. "But brute strength without strategy is just noise."
Zhu Hong's eyes narrowed as his fiery Qi flared, setting the air around him ablaze. Without waiting for the referee's signal, he charged at Si Ming, his hands igniting as flames swirled around his fists. The ground beneath him cracked from the sheer force of his explosive energy.
Si Ming reacted in a heartbeat. With a slight pivot of his foot, he sidestepped the fiery blow, the flames narrowly missing his shoulder. Zhu Hong growled in frustration and unleashed a second strike—a fiery uppercut designed to engulf Si Ming in a vortex of flames. Si Ming dropped low, the intense heat grazing his back as he performed a smooth roll to safety.
"You're fast," Zhu Hong admitted, his voice tinged with grudging respect. "But let's see how you deal with this."
Zhu Hong raised his hand, summoning a massive fireball that hovered above his palm. The fireball crackled and pulsed with volatile energy, its heat causing nearby spectators to shield their faces. With a roar, Zhu Hong hurled the fireball toward Si Ming, the sheer force of its trajectory shaking the ground.
Si Ming's eyes sharpened as he raised his sword, channeling Qi through the blade. With a swift motion, he unleashed Thousand Winds Barrage, creating a vortex of slicing winds that collided with the fireball mid-air. The resulting explosion rocked the Arena, sending shockwaves rippling outward. Spectators gasped as smoke and debris clouded the stage.
From within the smoke, Zhu Hong lunged forward, using the distraction to close the distance. His fist, wreathed in flames, aimed for Si Ming's chest. But Si Ming had anticipated the move. With a fluid spin, he redirected Zhu Hong's momentum, slamming the hilt of his sword into Zhu Hong's side. The larger man stumbled, his fiery aura flickering momentarily.
"Is that it?" Si Ming asked, his tone laced with calm derision. "I expected more from the eighth rank."
Zhu Hong roared, his Qi flaring even brighter. Flames erupted around him, creating a wave of heat that spread across the Arena. The stage itself began to blacken from the intensity. "I'll show you my true power!" Zhu Hong bellowed. Summoning all his strength, he executed his signature move: Infernal Quake. Flames erupted from the ground in a wide radius, creating an arena-wide attack that left no room for evasion.
The crowd erupted in cheers, believing the match to be over. "He's done for!" someone shouted. "No one's survived Zhu Hong's Infernal Quake before!"
But as the flames died down, a figure emerged from the inferno, unscathed. Si Ming's form was encased in a shimmering barrier, the result of his Barrier Formation technique. The crowd fell silent, their disbelief palpable.
"Impressive," Si Ming said, lowering the barrier as he stepped forward. "But it's not enough."
Before Zhu Hong could react, Si Ming dashed forward, his movements a blur. Drawing upon his Dragon Flame Fist, he struck with precision, his Qi-infused punches mimicking the ferocity of a dragon's fiery breath. Each blow landed with devastating force, sending shockwaves through Zhu Hong's body.
With a final, thunderous strike, Si Ming sent Zhu Hong crashing to the edge of the stage. The larger man groaned, his body battered and his flames extinguished. The referee raised his hand, signaling the end of the match.
"Winner: Si Ming," he declared.
The crowd erupted into cheers and murmurs, their awe for Si Ming growing with every battle. Even the top-ranked disciples began to shift uneasily in their seats, realizing that this rising contender was no ordinary opponent.
In the Saintess's pavilion, Fenyue leaned forward slightly, her golden eyes glinting with intrigue. "He dismantled Zhu Hong so effortlessly," she remarked, her voice carrying a faint note of admiration.
Si Ming returned to the sidelines, ignoring the whispers that followed him. His goal was clear, and his focus was unwavering. With each victory, he inched closer to the top spot—and the promise of entry into the Inner Sect.
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