Chapter 248: Chapter 237: The Second Round
The matchups for the second round of group battles were formed by regrouping the winners from the first round.
Specifically, the two first-place winners from Groups One and Two would be placed in a new group with the two second-place winners from Groups Three and Four. In this way, four groups were consolidated into two.
Each new group contained four people, with two advancing. Ultimately, thirty-two of the original sixty-four would advance to the elimination tournament.
These thirty-two spots were exceptionally precious. For the various nations, the number of disciples who entered the elimination tournament and their final rankings held immense weight in the overall standings, directly influencing the post-tournament allocation of resources such as wealth, land, and population. As such, the competition grew even more intense.
By a remarkable coincidence, Zhao Lin had placed first in Group Five, while the first-place winner of Group Six happened to be ranked thirty-first in fist power.
This meant that regardless of their results in the group battles, they were fated to face each other again upon entering the elimination tournament.
Therefore, after securing his own advancement, this fellow simply forfeited the match against Zhao Lin. This allowed Zhao Lin to move on without a fight, giving him ample free time to observe the matches on the other platforms.
After the fierce battles of the first round, the remaining sixty-four disciples were all elites from their respective nations. Their strength was on a higher level, and it was now rare to see a match end in just a few rounds.
However, this didn’t include Basang and Bolta.
Basang finally had a challenger. The second-ranked disciple in his group was from Wuzhu, a man named Qimu Ge, whose fist power was ranked twenty-ninth.
Since the age of eighteen, Qimu Ge had been known as a warrior of the Wuzhu steppes, and he lived by the creed: ’One can be defeated, but never surrender.’
He believed that even if he was no match for Basang, he at least had the ability to protect himself. Thus, after defeating the third-ranked disciple in the group, he declared to the arbitrating elder, "I challenge Basang."
Basang grinned, baring his teeth, and bounded onto the fighting platform in a couple of great strides. He rolled his shoulders and neck, then squinted at Qimu Ge, his gaze like that of a predator sizing up its prey.
Qimu Ge swallowed hard. He forced himself to meet Basang’s gaze for a moment before his nerve broke and he raised his fists.
The arbitrating elder immediately shouted, "One, two, three!"
Basang stood his ground with unhurried confidence, beckoning to Qimu Ge with a crooked finger.
Qimu Ge felt slighted, and a flicker of anger rose within him. Yet, still wary of his opponent’s fist power, he chose a flanking approach.
His figure blurred as he appeared at Basang’s left and sent out a palm strike.
Basang remained motionless, waiting until his opponent’s palm was halfway through its arc and couldn’t be retracted. Then, with unparalleled speed, he threw a punch.
Lightning crackled around his fist. Though thrown second, it landed first, squarely striking Qimu Ge’s shoulder.
Qimu Ge was sent flying backward like a kite with a snapped string, tumbling off the platform.
A one-punch victory!
The stands erupted in an uproar, the spectators all gasping in unison.
Everyone knew Basang was strong, but they hadn’t expected him to be *this* strong.
"What a Thunder Blade Fist!"
Even Zhao Lin’s eyelid twitched as he watched. ’That punch was too fast,’ he thought. ’From a distance, all I saw was a flash of white light before the match was over.’
He had known that Basang’s Thunder Attribute attacks were powerful, but seeing it firsthand made him realize the man’s punching speed was the most terrifying thing about him.
Bolta, as if intending to one-up Basang, also finished his opponent with a single punch.
His opponent was a slender man whose martial arts specialized in agility. From the very start of the match, he retreated to a distance, hoping to use his speed to keep Bolta from closing in while he waited for an opportunity to strike.
Bolta just scoffed, then suddenly stomped his foot. A pale yellow aura erupted from the sole of his boot, enveloping his legs.
His mountain-like frame dissolved into a streak of yellow smoke, instantly reappearing before his opponent.
Gathering Body Skill!
Before the man could react, he saw a massive fist flying at his face. He barely had time to raise his own fists to guard his head before the blow landed.
With a loud THUD, he was sent flying from the platform.
Another one-punch victory!
"Gathering Body Skill, Heavy Mountain Fist."
Zhao Lin murmured under his breath. ’He’s going to be a tough nut to crack, too.’
Unfortunately, both matches had ended too quickly. With just one move each, it was impossible to gauge the full extent of their abilities.
As the competition continued, the other disciples ranked in the top eight for fist power also took to the platforms one by one.
Mai Kun, Li Taiqing, He Liancheng, Muheli, and Su Mu all defeated their opponents with ease, advancing smoothly to the next stage.
Zhao Lin paid extra attention to Muheli, as he was a likely opponent in the quarterfinals.
Muheli practiced an ancient Cultivation Technique called the Body Refining Fist.
Modern martial artists typically train their Basic Cultivation Skill and their offensive Cultivation Techniques separately. The Body Refining Fist was different—it was a single technique that could be used both to cultivate Inner Power and increase one’s energy, as well as for direct combat.
Few people still practiced this fist style. For one, separating techniques allowed for specialization, which was more conducive to cultivation.
For another, the training for this Fist Skill was exceptionally arduous.
Its practitioners had to gaze at the rising sun each morning to strengthen their eyesight, run for days and nights through the wilderness to increase their stamina, and repeatedly strike mountain boulders to improve their durability.
All in all, it was far more grueling than the standard methods of refining one’s skin and bones.
As a result, martial artists who practiced the Body Refining Fist were known for their resilience, durability, and exceptional stamina.
After watching so many matches, Zhao Lin was gradually getting a clearer picture of his own strength.
It seemed he should be able to secure a spot in the top eight. The real challenge would begin after that.
Still, he couldn’t afford to be careless in any match. A disciple ranked in the top sixteen for fist power had already been defeated in this round.
Interestingly, while observing the matches, Zhao Lin once again spotted that disciple from Weizi named Bu Kan—the one who seemed to have some sort of obsessive compulsion.
Aside from constantly muttering to himself and having all sorts of minor tics, the man’s combat prowess was actually quite formidable. He had somehow managed to advance as the top contender in his group.
Zhao Lin’s eyes glinted. ’If I end up facing him,’ he thought, ’I have plenty of ways to take him down a peg!’
"The group battles are about to conclude. What are your thoughts, you three Sect Leaders? Do you think any of our Great Yue disciples can make it into the top four?"
From the spectator stands, Shangguan Xi asked with great interest.
Shangguan Xi himself was a warrior at the Second Layer of the Qi Realm, so his strength was no match for the elders and disciples present. However, having watched the tournament for many years, he had a discerning eye and a wealth of experience.
In his view, although Zhao Lin was ranked second in fist power, he was too young. Furthermore, his performance thus far wasn’t as awe-inspiring as Basang’s or Bolta’s. The difficulty of defeating those two to claim the championship was immense.
As for the other three disciples, He Liancheng, Xiao Jin, and Huang Guanglie, they had sufficient age and experience, but there was a clear gap between their strength and that of the very top contenders.
Therefore, he didn’t hold much hope for one of them winning the championship; he only asked if one could make it into the top four.
The Sect Leader of the Li Yang Sect sighed softly. "If He Liancheng makes it to the top eight, he’ll be facing Bolta in the quarterfinals."
He said no more after that, but his meaning was clear: He Liancheng’s chances of defeating Bolta were slim to none.
The Sect Leader of the Southern Suppression Sect also shook his head with a bitter smile. "Huang Guanglie is ranked fourteenth in fist power. In the round of sixteen, he’s also slated to face Bolta."
Seeing that Lu Chaohuan hadn’t spoken, Shangguan Xi asked, "Sect Leader Lu, Great Yue has three disciples ranked near the top in fist power this time. Is there great hope?"
Lu Chaohuan smiled nonchalantly. "As long as those three can make it into the top sixteen, I’ll be satisfied as their Sect Leader. As for whether they can make it into the top eight, or even the top four... that will depend on their performance on the day!"
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