Chapter Forty-Eight: "Green Bull Battle Force"

The crowd below stared at Meng Liangchen in shock. The ferocious onslaught he had just unleashed—was this really the same young master of the Meng family, always smiling and approachable?

At this moment, Meng Liangchen's breathing was somewhat rapid; the intensity of his recent attack had taken a considerable toll on him.

Qi Lingxuan gazed anxiously at Meng Liangchen on the stage. "Uncle, will Brother Chen be alright?"

"Liangchen wants to finish the fight quickly, but such a method drains him too much," Meng Lei murmured.

"It'll be fine. I believe in Liangchen," he comforted, seeing the worry on Qi Lingxuan's face.

"Meng, my young friend, you expended quite a bit in the last battle. As the referee, I’ll grant you a quarter-hour to rest," Elder Guo said calmly. He turned to Zhang Ren, "City Lord, you have no objections, I presume?"

Zhang Ren hesitated, then replied, "I don't mind. However, just now, one of my men defeated someone from the Meng family, and he didn't rest. If you allow this, Elder Guo, your decades-long reputation for fairness might be at risk."

In truth, the man who defeated Meng Lei had barely used any energy—after all, Meng Lei was only at the seventh level of the acquired realm.

Elder Guo appeared conflicted.

"Elder Guo, it's not necessary. I can still fight," Meng Liangchen spoke, unwilling to put Elder Guo in a difficult position.

"Very well," Elder Guo agreed, admiring the determination in the young man's eyes.

Now another figure entered the arena—a man just past his twenties.

"Hmph, I'm not some useless Xu Liang," he said, giving Meng Liangchen a venomous look.

He twisted slightly, the sound of cracking bones echoing from within.

"Begin," Elder Guo's voice rang out.

Both were dressed in black.

The two opposing figures moved almost simultaneously.

At the center of the arena, their silhouettes collided in an instant.

"Bang! Bang! Bang!"

A streak of blue light and a green-wood glow intertwined across the stage.

"Ha!" Meng Liangchen’s hand burst forth with emerald light, and an apparition of a green bull’s head flashed, striking at the man's forehead.

The other reacted swiftly, turning his right hand from palm to claw, a bolt of lightning surging as he clawed viciously toward Meng Liangchen.

"Swish, swish!"

Both sensed the other's inner force and knew not to face it head-on. In unison, they stepped back, retreating.

Their inner energy struck the floor, leaving shallow marks behind.

Neither moved, and the audience was silent. A collective gasp passed among them—had either not dodged, death or serious injury would have been certain. No matter how tough their bodies, could they be harder than the arena floor?

Both began to gather their true energy. The city lord’s man slowly concentrated his pale blue internal force into his hands.

He quickly formed several hand seals.

The blue light in his hands grew ever brighter.

Meng Liangchen narrowed his eyes, a hint of gravity appearing—this true energy brought him a sense of pressure.

Suddenly, the man charged forward, his twin claws sweeping toward Meng Liangchen in a strange arc.

His internal force condensed into a faint blue shadow of a claw.

"High-level Yellow-rank Martial Art: White Crane Blue Claw!" he murmured to himself.

Though only a high-level yellow-rank technique, in his hands it rivaled the power of a profound-rank skill. Since reaching the sixth level of the acquired realm, he had honed this art to perfection.

"Break!" Meng Liangchen shouted fiercely.

Green-wood light flared from his hand, his entire palm turning emerald as he met the massive blue claw head-on.

At the moment of collision, there seemed to be the lowing of a bull—whether illusion or reality.

Meng Liangchen narrowed his eyes, pouring all his internal force into his palm.

"It's over," he said, his face suddenly pale.

The other man's expression changed, feeling a current of energy invade his body.

Meng Liangchen pressed his palm hard, and instantly, the man was sent flying.

"Spurt!"

He crashed onto the arena floor, skidding across it before landing heavily outside, blood spraying from his mouth.

Elder Guo’s voice rang out again, "Victory to the Meng family."

Meng Liangchen smiled when he heard this, then looked over to Lu Han, his lips moving slightly.

"Spurt."

Meng Liangchen coughed up blood and collapsed.

"Liangchen!"

"Brother Chen!"

Qi Lingxuan had been watching Meng Liangchen the whole time; now she rushed to support him, helping him up.

The crowd erupted—Meng Liangchen had sent his opponent flying in an instant, leaving many confused, and now Meng Liangchen had fallen unconscious.

"I understand now—that was ‘Green Bull Battle Energy’!"

"Green Bull Battle Energy?"

"Legend has it that decades ago, an elder from Green Bull Mountain practiced this very art. Though only a basic profound-rank skill, it’s more precious than most mid-level profound techniques, for ‘Green Bull Battle Energy’ can cunningly invade an opponent’s body. No wonder the man lost so thoroughly. However, it has a drawback: when the battle energy enters the enemy, the user suffers backlash. That must be why Meng Liangchen fainted."

"No wonder they say Meng Liangchen inherited the legacy of a profound master—it turns out to be the Green Bull Elder."

"That bull’s cry just now could only be produced by someone wielding ‘Green Bull Battle Energy’."

…

Plenty in the audience had sharp eyes and instantly discerned what had occurred; they analyzed Meng Liangchen’s technique to near completion.

From Meng Liangchen’s lip movements before he fainted, Lu Han could tell: "I leave the rest to you." Meng Liangchen had planned for this all along.

Looking at the unconscious Meng Liangchen, Lu Han murmured, "Don’t worry, cousin."

"Since Meng Liangchen is unconscious, the Meng family and the City Lord’s Mansion each have one last contestant. Whoever wins will be the next Lord of Tianlan City."

All eyes swept toward the towering figure on the City Lord’s side.

The man strode forward, his momentum swelling with each step. This was Zhang Mang of the Zhang family, ninth level of the acquired realm.

He suddenly looked at Lu Han, his voice cold. "Boy, will you surrender willingly, or shall I beat you half to death and throw you out?"

"Are you Zhangs only capable of talking? Just like your father? Empty words are so feeble. Without an actual fight, how do you know I’m not your match?" Lu Han’s lips curled into a slight smile as he touched his nose. It seemed Zhang Mang underestimated him.

"Bang!"

Zhang Mang stomped the ground, his body landing on the stage like a tower of steel. The floor beneath him even showed cracks.

Zhang Mang clasped his fists, a black long blade strapped to his back. Under the sunlight, it gleamed ominously.

Amid the crowd’s gaze, Lu Han, carrying his Biluo Sword, strode calmly onto the stage.

"What’s going on? This man’s aura is weaker than Meng Liangchen’s—it seems he’s only just broken through to the eighth level of the acquired realm?"

"What is the Meng family thinking?"

Lu Han ignored the stares; with a light step, his body flickered, appearing on the stage in the blink of an eye.

He lifted his head to Zhang Mang, smiling softly, "You think victory is yours?"

A note of provocation colored his voice.

"Boom!"

The audience exploded—what was wrong with this young Lu Han, daring to provoke Zhang Mang, who was a whole realm above him?

"You’ll pay dearly for those words," Zhang Mang said, squeezing his fist until it creaked.

"Father, can Han win?" Meng Lei asked, frowning.

He believed Lu Han could defeat those of equal rank, but crossing realms in battle was always difficult.

"Watch closely. All our hopes rest with Han now."

In that moment, a lazy voice echoed in Lu Han’s mind: "Han, let me give you a kind warning—watch out for the blade on his back."

"The blade?" Lu Han murmured, glancing at Zhang Mang’s pitch-black long sword.

"Since both are on stage, let this duel begin now."

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