Chapter Sixty-Seven: Selection

Liu Feng looked toward the source of the voice and was instantly dumbfounded. In the distance, several enormous beasts were approaching: a colossal black ox, five meters tall and nine meters long; a multicolored chicken, three meters high and five meters from beak to tail, each toe tipped with massive, steel-hooked talons as sharp as blades. Behind them followed a black dog, standing four meters at the shoulder and eight meters in length, its eyes round and fierce as bronze bells, and a white ram, also four meters tall and nine meters long, its head crowned with two razor-sharp, meter-long horns.

They ambled over at a leisurely pace, casting disdainful glances over the gathered crowd.

“These spirit beasts are really arrogant, not giving us a second thought. Sooner or later, they'll get what's coming to them,” Sun Kai muttered quietly beside him.

“You there, the short one—come here. I have something to ask you.” Suddenly, a crisp and melodious voice rang out. It was the rainbow-feathered chicken who spoke, extending a talon to point straight at Sun Kai.

The crowd was stunned to see a chicken speak in human tongue. This meant, at the very least, it possessed the cultivation of the Fusion Realm—none among them, even combined, would be a match for it.

Sun Kai hurried over, grinning obsequiously, “Senior, whatever you wish, just say the word. I’d walk through fire and water for you, no matter what it takes.”

The others looked at him speechless. After all that bluster just now, he’d turned coward in the blink of an eye.

“You have quite a way with words, boy,” the rainbow chicken remarked approvingly. “How many of you have come to the Flame Dragon Mountains this time? Do you know?”

Sun Kai’s eyes darted. “Roughly twenty to thirty people, all elite disciples from various sects.”

The rainbow chicken nodded, then turned to confer with the black ox, dog, and ram. Though they seemed to be communicating, the crowd could hear nothing.

After a moment, they seemed to reach a decision and nodded to the chicken.

“After our discussion, it’s decided: only the six strongest among you will earn the Yin-Yang Divine Fruit. You may compete for the right to the fruit,” the rainbow chicken announced calmly.

At these words, everyone’s eyes sharpened, fists clenched, all on high alert, casting wary glances at one another.

Seeing this, the rainbow chicken’s eyes seemed almost to glimmer with amusement. “The contest is simple: single duels. The victors advance, and so on by elimination.”

Having said this, it withdrew, standing with the other spirit beasts.

Liu Feng glanced around. There were twenty-four people present. Each stared tensely at their peers, but no one made the first move.

“If no one else will, I, Old Huang, will take the lead. Who wishes to challenge me?” Huang Lingshan stepped forward, breaking the silence.

“Huang Lingshan, let me have a go.” A slender young man stepped out to face him.

“So, you’re from the Windchase Sect. I accept your challenge.” With that, Huang Lingshan strode forward, instantly closing the gap, and struck with his right palm. A wild surge of energy blasted toward his opponent.

The slender youth’s eyes flashed; drawing a long blade, he slashed three times in succession. Three streaks of blade energy sliced through the air, cleaving into the oncoming wave. With a thunderous crash, the energy was split apart, but the blade energy pressed on, striking Huang Lingshan’s palm.

A metallic clang rang out as blade met flesh, yet Huang Lingshan’s hand remained unscathed.

The youth’s face changed. Gripping his blade in both hands, he raised it high and brought it down on Huang Lingshan’s head. The sword howled as it fell, descending in the blink of an eye.

“Tiger Fist!” Huang Lingshan roared, his fist blazing with light like a torch. A torrent of strength erupted, his fist smashing into the blade.

With a sharp crack, the long blade shattered under the impact. Huang Lingshan’s fist continued, crashing into the youth’s chest and sending him tumbling to the ground.

Next, Wang Lianshan entered the fray, sparring with another young man. Their movements were swift and fierce; in the span of a breath, they exchanged over a hundred blows before Wang Lianshan swept his leg across, knocking his opponent flat.

The duels continued. In no time, more than ten others had finished their matches. Among the victors were Wang Xinghe, Li Qiuyun, Zhao Guang, and others.

Now, Liu Feng stepped forward. “Is there anyone who wishes to challenge me?”

“I will.” Zhang Ming approached from afar, his injuries now healed. He had been brooding ever since Liu Feng had wounded him earlier.

Liu Feng’s eyes flashed coldly. “This Zhang Ming is domineering, always bullying others with his strength. Today, I’ll teach him a lesson.”

Zhang Ming stared at Liu Feng and attacked without a word.

“Watercloud Palm!” he shouted, thrusting both palms forward. His energy surged like a river in flood, crashing toward Liu Feng’s chest.

Liu Feng remained serene. He activated his Invincible Golden Body, and instantly, dazzling golden light enveloped him, as if clad in golden armor, exuding the aura of a warrior god.

He punched with his right fist, golden light exploding forth like a miniature sun, its wild force smashing into Zhang Ming’s palms.

A deafening boom shook the earth, scattering stones in all directions.

Zhang Ming staggered back under the impact, his eyes dark as he stared at Liu Feng. “Impossible! I’m a third-stage Yin-Yang cultivator, yet I can’t overcome someone at the ninth stage of Qi Condensation? This is impossible!” he raged inwardly.

“What’s going on with Brother Liu Feng? In just two or three hours, his strength has multiplied several times,” Zeng Lu and Zhao Yang exchanged incredulous glances.

They remembered well: before entering the Flame Dragon Mountains, all three of them had the strength of about ten cauldrons. Yet in such a short span, Liu Feng had changed so much.

Even Huang Lingshan and the others’ eyes contracted, unable to fathom the source of Liu Feng’s newfound power.

Seeing Zhang Ming hesitate, Liu Feng took the initiative. His right fist pummeled forward, a wild golden current howling like a hurricane, coiling toward Zhang Ming.

Zhang Ming gritted his teeth. He would not back down before superior strength; his pride would not allow it.

With a fierce cry, he unleashed his true energy, both palms striking hard at the golden current.

A thunderous crash—his palms struck the golden energy as if hitting solid stone, numbing his arms and halting his attack.

Seizing the opportunity, Liu Feng darted in. His golden fist, like a meteor tearing through the sky, slammed heavily into Zhang Ming’s chest.

Zhang Ming was sent flying, landing with a crash as blood spurted from his lips. His energy drained, he looked utterly defeated.