The challenge had barely left his lips when a woman in form-fitting black leather vaulted from the crowd, landing lightly in the center of the ring. She wielded twin daggers, her posture sharp and confident. Her features were striking, though her sun-kissed skin suggested a life spent on the road.
She snapped a crisp salute. "The name's Qiao Fengying. They call me 'Twin Daggers.' I'll take the first watch. So, which one of you heroes is going to give me a dance?"
A contemptuous snort cut through the murmuring crowd. "A woman? Should be at home with the kids instead of playing warrior. I'll put you in your place."
Whoosh!
A mountain of a man launched himself onto the stage. He carried a heavy iron whip, his muscles bulging and his eyes blazing with arrogance. Without a word, he swung the whip in a brutal arc, the air screaming as it descended on Qiao Fengying.
Ice formed in her eyes, his words clearly striking a nerve. Her daggers became a blur, slicing through the wind as she met his charge head-on.
Clang! Clang! Clang!
They were a whirlwind of steel and fury, trading blows at a blinding pace. Dozens of exchanges passed in seconds.
Suddenly, they both lunged, their palms meeting with a dull, fleshy thud. Qiao Fengying saw her opening. In a fluid motion, her leg whipped out in a vicious, unorthodox arc, aimed squarely between the big man's thighs. The impact was sickening. He let out a strangled shriek and was sent flying from the stage, where he collapsed in a heap.
A cruel smile touched Qiao Fengying's lips. "So what if I'm a woman? I know a hundred ways to kill you. You can build all the muscle you want, but every man has his weak spot."
"Ah..." the man groaned from the ground, curled into a fetal position. Blood pooled beneath him, the coppery smell sharp in the air. He glared up at her, his face twisted with hate. "You bitch... I'll kill you!"
Swish!
With a flick of her wrist, she unleashed a fan of poison-tipped needles. They whistled through the air, embedding themselves in his chest. He coughed once, a spray of dark blood erupting from his lips, and then he was still.
A collective shiver ran through the other competitors. Vicious.
Even Jiang Dao, watching from the sidelines, narrowed his eyes.
"Enough of this garbage," a cold voice cut through the silence. "You call that skill? You deserved to die for even trying to compete for Hall Master."
A tall, lanky man leaped onto the stage. He moved with a chilling grace, his face a mask of indifference, but his eyes held a predatory glint.
"Dao'er, that's Fei Bin," Yang Xu whispered urgently into Jiang Dao's ear. "The master of the Wind and Thunder Palm. His forty-nine forms are no joke."
Jiang Dao said nothing, his gaze fixed on the stage.
Qiao Fengying's confidence faltered for a split second when she saw who it was, but she quickly masked it with a sneer. "Fei Bin. Good. I was hoping to see what this famous Wind and Thunder Palm is all about."
Whoosh!
Her daggers left shimmering afterimages in the air as she lunged, aiming for his head.
Fei Bin was unnervingly calm. His hands seemed to swell, the veins popping on his skin as his knuckles grew thick and pronounced. He met her blades with his bare palms, the air crackling around them.
Thump! Thump! Thump!
They moved in a blur, the sound of their blows heavy and concussive. Qiao Fengying pushed her speed to its absolute limit, but she couldn't land a single hit. Every time her daggers got close, an invisible wall of force—his palm energy—would shove them back.
Desperate, she tried her signature move again, her foot lashing out in that same deceptive arc, aimed right for his groin.
But Fei Bin was ready. He snatched her ankle out of the air with one hand. His other hand, radiating a terrifying power, shot toward her face. She twisted, barely getting her daggers up to block.
BOOM!
Fei Bin's strike changed direction mid-flight, slamming into her chest instead. There was a sickening crunch as her sternum caved in. A pained gasp escaped her lips as she was thrown from the platform, half-dead.
"You're out of your league," Fei Bin stated, his voice devoid of emotion. He stood motionless, his gaze sweeping over the remaining fighters like a hawk scanning for prey. The raw power he projected was palpable, and a heavy silence fell over the contenders.
Then, his eyes locked onto Jiang Dao.
"What are you staring at?" Fei Bin demanded. "Get up here. Or do I have to drag you? You really think you're some kind of big shot, don't you?"
"Dao'er, be careful," Yang Xu warned, his face pale. "If it's too much, just surrender. I'll make sure you get a Deacon's post."
Fei Bin was clearly on another level. For the first time, Yang Xu was genuinely afraid for him.
Jiang Dao just rolled his neck, the joints popping loudly. "Got it, Third Uncle," he said, his voice calm.
With a single, effortless leap, he landed on the stage. Standing at a muscular six feet three, his presence alone was immense. He glanced at Fei Bin, then let his eyes drift over the anxious fighters below.
"Is this really it?" he asked, his voice laced with boredom. "Five fights are a waste of time. How about this? All of you, come at me together."
"Arrogant bastard!"
"He's got a death wish!"
The fighters below erupted in anger. On the stage, a murderous light flashed in Fei Bin's eyes. "You asked for it."
Swish!
He closed the distance in a heartbeat. A green-blue energy flared around his palms as he unleashed a devastating flurry of strikes aimed at Jiang Dao's chest.
Jiang Dao simply turned, his hands moving in a blur to meet the attack. He caught both of Fei Bin's wrists.
CRACK! CRACK!
"ARGH!"
The sound of bones snapping like dry twigs echoed across the arena. Fei Bin screamed in agony as Jiang Dao effortlessly broke both his wrists. A single kick sent him sprawling to the ground, clutching his mangled arms, splintered bone jutting from the skin.
The crowd stared, mouths agape. Total disbelief.
"Bin'er!" Left Protector Guo Linyu shot to his feet, his face a mask of fury and shock.
"I said not to waste my time," Jiang Dao repeated, turning his attention to the other fighters. "Let's go. All of you."
They looked at him as if he were some kind of demon. He took out Fei Bin—instantly? This wasn't a fight; it was a different plane of existence.
But with the Gang Leader and the elders watching, they couldn't just back down. After a moment of panicked hesitation, they exchanged determined glances. In a wave, they surged onto the stage, a chaotic mob armed with swords, spears, and axes, all charging at the lone figure.
"KILL HIM!"
Jiang Dao's eyes went sharp. He moved into the horde like a predator. His hands became claws of steel, striking with blinding speed, targeting throats, joints, and pressure points. With every strike, a man fell, crippled.
Crack! Snap! Crunch!
Screams filled the air. His movements were a whirlwind of destruction. Their weapons were useless. He shattered blades with his bare hands, his Eagle Claw technique so potent it seemed there was nothing it couldn't destroy.
It wasn't a fight. It was a slaughter.
From the sidelines, Qiao Fengying stared, her eyes wide with horrified awe. "He's not human," she whispered. "He's a monster."
Even the Gang Leader, Fang Tianba, leaned forward, his eyes narrowed to slits.
Suddenly, Fei Bin, still writhing on the ground, saw an opening. His face contorted with venomous rage, he opened his mouth and spat. A thin, blue-tipped needle shot out, aimed directly at a vital point on Jiang Dao's neck.
Pfft!
The needle found its mark. Jiang Dao flinched, his body stiffening for a microsecond before he was moving again as if nothing had happened. He casually dropped a shattered sword, reached up, and plucked the needle from his neck. He examined it for a moment, then calmly crushed it between his thumb and forefinger. It hadn't even broken the skin. His internal energy had already neutralized the poison.
Jiang Dao's gaze turned cold as he walked slowly toward the now-terrified Fei Bin.
"You know," he said, his voice dangerously low, "there's nothing I hate more than a sneak attack."
"You... what are you..." Fei Bin stammered, scrambling backward. How was this possible? His poison was lethal.
"Stop him!" Left Protector Guo Linyu bellowed.
SPLAT!
Jiang Dao's hand shot out. His fingers, hard as steel, clamped down on Fei Bin's forehead. With a single, brutal motion, he tore the man's skull open. The headless body slumped to the ground.
Jiang Dao turned to face the Protector.
"Sorry," he said. "Too late."