Lan Hao exhaled deeply, locking eyes with Yu Xuan, who had already created distance between them.
His Fist Intent still gave him the edge in raw offensive power, but Yu Xuan's defense was far more solid uncomfortably so.
And in contrast, Lan Hao knew his own defenses were lacking. If this dragged on, the tide would inevitably turn.
More importantly, he couldn't maintain Fist Intent indefinitely. It demanded intense focus, mental clarity.
'If I wait, I'll lose. I have to end it now.'
With that resolve, Lan Hao drew a long breath. His muscles coiled like compressed springs — his veins pulsing, his bronze skin glowing faintly with spiritual light. And then—
Boom!
He vanished in a blur, dashing toward Yu Xuan with a sudden surge of speed that shocked the crowd.
Yu Xuan's expression didn't waver.
He'd learned countless martial arts forms under his father's brutal guidance. His body remembered every stance, every flow, every strike.
