Where Immortals Once Walked

Seeing all this, how could He Lingchuan still not understand what was going on? Skinny had actually opened up a betting pool in the southern courtyard!

“This is allowed?”

“Why wouldn’t it be?” A’Luo actually smiled for once. “The crowd only gets excited when there’s money on the line.”

He Lingchuan had to admit that he had a point. Watching a match without placing a bet was like watching a game without any passion.

“See that biggest sparring ground over there?” A’Luo pointed south. “The one that’s fenced but has no walls, that’s open to the public. Fights held there are the biggest draws. Every time, the audience is fired up, and there are at least seven or eight hundred people placing bets.”

Panlong City was a place where everyone loved martial arts, whether it was civilians or soldiers.

When Skinny finished handing out the winnings, the people around him scattered. Spotting He Lingchuan and A’Luo, he hurriedly straightened his half-tugged-off top and came over with a grin. “Yo, is this your first time here?”

“I’ll leave you to it,” said A’Luo, stepping in at the right moment. “I’ve got clinic duty.” Then he headed toward the central tower. The man who had been knocked down earlier had dislocated his jaw and was going to need treatment.

Skinny caught He Lingchuan by the arm. “Wanna make a little easy money?”

“How?”

“You’re a newcomer. Nobody knows how strong you are yet. I’ll find you a few opponents. Don’t worry, I’ll make sure they’re weaker than you. You just have to win, then we can split the winnings half and half. What do you think?”

He Lingchuan smiled. “Sounds tempting, but I’d rather fight someone who’s at about the same level as me. Not too weak, but not so strong that I’ll end up flat on my back.” He did not want to waste time.

Skinny, however, did not back down so easily. “You really don’t want to earn some quick money?”

He Lingchuan gave him a look.

“Alright, alright, I get it.” Skinny raised both hands. “Willow said you’ve been practicing using the grappling hook. How’s that coming along?”

“I’ve just started, so I’m not that good at it yet,” He Lingchuan replied honestly. “I still need some more time to get better at it. You sure do have your hands in everything, huh?”

“I’ve gotta make ends meet somehow.” Skinny grinned. “You single bachelors don’t understand how hard it is for a man with a family to feed. Every time I open my eyes, there’s a bunch of mouths waiting for food. Hold on, I’ll find you a match.”

He clearly knew his way around the southern courtyard. Putting his fingers to his lips, he gave a sharp whistle. “Hook! Someone wants to challenge you!”

The man who had just defended his title turned and asked, “Who?”

Skinny patted He Lingchuan’s shoulder. “Found you a fine opponent. This guy’s the rising star, He—”

He Lingchuan stepped forward and cut him off, “My name’s Broken Blade.”

Panlong City was still buzzing about his feat at Guizhen Stone Forest, about how he had saved an entire army by himself. That story’s heat had not even cooled yet, so everyone was still familiar with the name He Lingchuan, but very few knew his patrol codename was Broken Blade.

The reigning champion called Hook just crooked a finger at him. “Come, pick your weapon.”

Weapon racks lined the edge of the practice field, stocked with everything from standard arms to strange and exotic ones. He Lingchuan even saw a massive spiked mace that reached up to his chest, but its iron spikes had been replaced by wooden ones.

While Hook was loosening his shoulders, Skinny quickly leaned in to brief He Lingchuan, “As per the rules of the Martial Review Hall, only the weapons provided here are allowed to be used for duels. You aren’t allowed to use a weapon you brought yourself, and you aren’t allowed to use origin energy. When one side loses the ability to fight or admits defeat, the match ends. Other than that, anything goes. And, uh, they never said killing’s off limits. Oh, and Hook’s best with twin tiger hooks, but there aren’t any on the rack—”

Before he could finish, Hook had already picked up the same set of weapons he had used earlier—a wooden axe and a heavy square iron shield.

Since the shield was for defense, it was made of plain metal rather than wood, and it had no spikes or edges. It was pretty much just a flat slab.

He Lingchuan thought for a moment, then chose a wooden saber.

It was the simplest, most practical weapon on any battlefield, and it was the one he was most familiar with.

Hook walked back to the center of the arena and banged his axe against his shield with a clang. “Come!”

He Lingchuan vaulted into the arena. The two saluted each other, and the match began.

The crowd immediately swarmed closer, forming a solid ring around them.

Skinny was already shouting, “Broken Blade versus Hook! The newcomer’s debut fight—odds are high! Place your bets, place your bets!”

That guy really does have money written all over his heart. He Lingchuan shook his head, but before he could even finish the thought, Hook’s figure flickered before his eyes.

Fast!

The man wielded both axe and shield, and his bare upper body revealed rippling cords of muscle. He looked like a pure power fighter, but his footwork was astonishingly quick.

His left hand raised the shield from below in an upward smash toward He Lingchuan’s chin. If that connected, the blow would send the opponent flying, probably knocking out a few teeth. It was a move they nicknamed the “sky-piercing rocket.” The unlucky fellow who had fought him earlier had dislocated his jaw from that very strike.

If He Lingchuan dodged backward, his torso would tilt away, leaving his legs wide open. The next instant, the axe in Hook’s right hand came slicing down toward his knee.

In a real battle, that would destroy the opponent’s legs for good.

But both attacks hit empty air.

As the shield rose, He Lingchuan placed one palm on its rim and used the momentum to vault upward, his toes brushing lightly against the edge. Borrowing the momentum from the push, he soared clean over Hook’s head!

It was like being launched by Hook’s own strength—one hundred and forty pounds of solid muscle, yet light as willow fluff caught in a breeze.

His weeks of practicing the Swallow’s Return movement technique were finally paying off.

The spectators, including even Skinny, let out involuntary cheers.

Hook instinctively raised his shield to cover his head, but He Lingchuan, mid-flip, twisted in the air and brought his saber down across the back of Hook’s neck.

At that moment, Hook’s axe was still coming down. There was a sharp crack, and a red welt instantly appeared across his skin where the wooden blade struck.

He Lingchuan landed lightly, four feet away.

“Decapitation!” Skinny shouted. “The winner has been decided!”

Had it been a real fight, that strike would have taken Hook’s head clean off.

The crowd burst into thunderous applause.

Hook blinked, dazed. He turned and stared at He Lingchuan. “How did you—”

He Lingchuan smiled and said, “That’s the same move you used to win your last match.”

He had watched from the sidelines, seen Hook’s technique clearly, and had already worked out a counter. It was Hook himself who had grown overconfident, trying to win twice with the same trick.

And besides, He Lingchuan had once been beaten by that same “sky-piercing rocket.” There was no reason to fall for it again.

Realization dawned on Hook’s face, followed by frustration. “Again!”

“Hold your horses!” Skinny groaned, looking pained. “At least let me open the betting first! I didn’t even get the chance to start!”

That duel had lasted barely one exchange. The audience had not even had time to place their wagers.

What a loss! Broken Blade’s debut could have been a gold mine, but now it was gone.

“Wait!” A deep, booming voice suddenly echoed from the crowd. A moment later, a massive figure pushed forward, scattering people like leaves before the wind.

The man was bald, built like a bear, and covered in thick black hair on his arms and face alike. His eyes were small but gleamed with a fierce light that made everyone instinctively step aside.

He Lingchuan’s breath caught. He actually recognized this man. What were the odds? This is my first visit to the Martial Review Hall and I’m running into familiar faces left and right.

It was Meng Shan.

When He Lingchuan had entered the Panlong Dreamscape for the second time, he had fought side by side with the Gale Army at the gorge, defending the refugees of Wei City. And Meng Shan had been there too. He had been a hundred-man commander or company commander among the Baling pursuers, a force of destruction on his own.

In just one clash, Meng Shan had shattered He Lingchuan’s arm. He had used the same sky-piercing rocket move.

Except when Meng Shan did it, the power was easily double that of Hook.

At this moment, Meng Shan bared his teeth in a grin. “Kid, I remember you.”

He Lingchuan frowned. “Your leg’s healed?”

Back then, Meng Shan had been caught in a giant bear trap buried under the ground. It had snapped his leg clean through, ending his rampage and leading to his capture.

Of course, he remembered. At He Lingchuan’s words, Meng Shan chuckled, the light in his eyes turning even fiercer.

A’Luo appeared out of nowhere and said from the edge of the arena, “After his capture, Meng Shan was personally persuaded by the Red General to surrender. He’s joined Panlong City now.” He paused. “He’s one of us.”

The crowd stirred. For someone to be persuaded personally by the Red General was quite the honor.

Meng Shan jabbed a finger northward, grinning proudly. “I joined the Gale Army today. I was directly promoted to a platoon leader. I’m heading to the northern courtyard right now.”

A wave of murmurs and envy rippled through the southern courtyard.

“Seriously? That turncoat gets into the northern courtyard before us?”

“Yeah, just ’cause he’s built like a mountain?”

The grumbling was loud, but no one dared object. Meng Shan’s skill was as obvious as his size.

He had been a company commander among the elite troops of Baling. He was a man who always led from the front. The Red General’s personal endorsement only further served to prove his worth.

After all, real talent did not care about background.

“You lot can eat my dust!” Meng Shan sneered, making a crude hand gesture at the crowd before turning back to He Lingchuan. “How about we have ourselves a match?”

The murderous gleam in his eyes left no doubt that he was still holding a grudge.

He Lingchuan opened his mouth to reply, but Skinny grabbed his arm again and whispered urgently, “You don’t have to accept! He’s not even part of the southern courtyard anymore! That bear used to dominate this place, and he’s brutal. A’Luo’s patched up at least seven or eight of his victims. Even the luckiest one couldn’t get out of bed for ten days!”

The implication was clear: whoever fought Meng Shan would go down hard.

He Lingchuan was genuinely a little touched. Skinny might sell out anyone for money, but at least he was loyal to his friends.

Then Skinny ruined it with his next words, “You’ll lose for sure, no point even opening bets!”

“...” He Lingchuan brushed his hand away, stepped forward, and said calmly, “Pick your weapon.”

A ripple of laughter and whistles swept through the crowd. Another brave fool.

Even spectators from nearby arenas came running, packing the place tight. The air buzzed like a festival day.

Meng Shan threw his head back and laughed. “Good! Today, Grandpa Meng will teach you a lesson!”

He strode to the weapon rack and pulled out the largest, thickest, heaviest wolf’s fang mace there.

It was carved entirely from solid wood, covered in rows of blunt wooden spikes called “wolf fangs” in place of iron ones. But in Meng Shan’s hands, it might as well have been the real thing. After all, in his hands, they were capable of cracking skulls like coconuts with a single swing.