Where Immortals Once Walked

Just as He Lingchuan landed a hit with the wooden saber, he clamped one hand onto Meng Shan’s shoulder guard, letting the rebound force launch him upward in a smooth glide. This made it so that Meng Shan’s arms snapped shut around empty air. Having missed his target, Meng Shan let out a furious roar.

He Lingchuan flipped backward, landed behind Meng Shan, and struck out with the saber once again!

This time, he aimed for the back of Meng Shan’s neck, which was an area that the leather armor did not cover. Even without a sharp edge, a clean hit to such a spot would make any fighter’s vision go black.

But down below, Sun Fuling only frowned slightly and shook her head.

Meng Shan ducked just in time, leaving the wooden saber with nothing to hit.

After the furious roar that he had released just now, his movements gained a noticeable burst of speed. His hulking frame even shrank a full size, allowing him to twist into a nimble, almost impossible dive-roll. He swung his wolf’s fang mace directly toward He Lingchuan’s torso fiercely and quickly.

A thick red light suddenly burst from the wooden spikes of the wolf’s fang mace.

All of the weapons in the Martial Review Hall were plain wooden weapons with no special characteristics. For that kind of glow to erupt, Meng Shan had clearly invoked his true energy, unleashing a killing move.

At this moment, He Lingchuan was airborne with nowhere to dodge, and so the blow sent him flying more than ten meters away.

He nearly fell off the arena.

Meng Shan was on him like a shadow, covering the distance with shocking speed. In only two strides, he was already upon him.

To the commoners crowded around the arena, all they saw was a blurring storm of mace shadows. None could tell that in less than half a second, Meng Shan had hammered out three heavy strikes from three different directions. The wind alone from his swings whipped the hair of the surrounding spectators.

He Lingchuan had no room left to evade. He could only pour all his strength into his arms and brace his wooden saber to meet the blows head-on.

Every time he blocked one of Meng Shan’s strikes, it felt as though a sledgehammer slammed straight into him. His arms went numb from the impact of the clashes alone.

What was even worse was that with every strike Meng Shan landed, his momentum swelled further. By the third strike, his aura was surging like a tidal bore, crushing down with overwhelming force.

He Lingchuan felt his entire body locked in place, Meng Shan’s power closing in from all directions, pinning him to a single spot.

This was exactly how Wild Boar earlier had been smashed into defeat.

And in the past, when He Lingchuan had challenged Meng Shan, he had been eliminated twice in exactly this manner.

Meng Shan’s triple strike, wherein each strike was stronger than the last, always ended with a brutal overhead smash aimed squarely at the very top of one’s skull. The last strike was always ferocious and unstoppable, like a pile-driver.

To be honest, at that moment, it no longer mattered whether he held an iron mace or a wooden one; the result was the same. Anyone hit would have their skull burst open. Several Gale Army soldiers watching felt chills on their scalps just imagining how they would ever withstand such a blow.

However, He Lingchuan somehow managed to avoid the third strike.

To be precise, he planted a hand against the ground, rolled, and slipped past Meng Shan’s waist like a fish twisting through seagrass in the water.

It was as though he had squeezed out from the crushing pressure by sheer instinct.

Xiao Maoliang let out a long, surprised “Eh?” and Hu Min even rubbed his eyes.

He Lingchuan’s movements were lithe and fluid, bending at odd yet beautiful angles. He used the rotational force produced by the muscles of his waist and back to shoot away with explosive speed. From that all-encompassing, suffocating pressure, he somehow found the tiniest crack and slipped through it.

Sun Fuling’s eyes narrowed.

She saw He Lingchuan’s wooden saber shoot out in that instant, stabbing Meng Shan’s waist like a needle.

However, leather armor covered the area, and the wooden saber failed to pierce through to actually even reach Meng Shan’s body.

At that moment, a crisp crack rang out from the arena as the saber snapped.

In the next moment, Meng Shan’s shield, which he was holding with his other hand, smashed toward He Lingchuan’s temple.

The crowd below the arena gasped as one.

In their eyes, He Lingchuan had tried to counterattack, failed to even breach Meng Shan’s defense, and instead shattered his own weapon.

Skinny, who was in the crowd, cursed bitterly and clenched his fists.

Is this going to end the same way as before? Anyone can see where this is going... It looks like Meng Shan’s going to win again.

He Lingchuan’s agile footwork looked impressive, yes. But Meng Shan was the kind of fighter who did not fear slippery opponents. In this situation, force crushed finesse. One mistake was all it took for He Lingchuan to be forced to take a loss.

And everyone made mistakes. Time was firmly on Meng Shan’s side.

Thankfully, He Lingchuan remained calm. He did not cling to immediate engagement. Clutching only the broken hilt that was left of the wooden saber, he retreated, narrowly slipping under the sweeping shield to put a distance of about two meters between himself and Meng Shan.

Meng Shan’s shield smashed nothing but air.

That wooden saber had endured three of Meng Shan’s full-power strikes. Its lifespan had already reached its end. He Lingchuan had seen the cracks spreading along its surface. He could feel how fragile it had become, how it would not survive even one more direct clash. That was why he had risked everything to avoid the overhead blow.

A fighter must always know the condition of their weapon.

After missing, Meng Shan stomped hard enough to shake the entire arena, which he then followed with a sweeping horizontal swing that sent out a strong gale across the arena.

The ground trembled violently, like an earthquake of magnitude eight or nine. The Gale Army soldiers watching felt a painful pang of memory. They recalled the battle at Xiqing Gorge half a year ago, when Meng Shan had toppled countless foes this exact same way.

His timing was impeccable. He Lingchuan had just scrambled to his feet, barely steady, so if he fell now, he would not survive the sweeping strike that followed.

The force of the gale extended more than six meters. The sound of it slicing the air was a sharp, slicing hiss. Even though invisible, being hit by it meant disaster.

That single technique alone was enough to place Meng Shan among the ranks of martial generals.

Clearly, He Lingchuan was not the only one who had grown stronger in the last half a year.

Beneath the arena, the knowledgeable spectators roared their praise.

However, He Lingchuan recognized the moment Meng Shan lifted his knee. He instantly knew what was coming. The instant Meng Shan’s foot slammed down, He Lingchuan pushed off the ground and vaulted backward, letting the force of the stomp miss him by mere moments. He landed behind the weapons rack nailed firmly to the edge of the arena, which took the brunt of the gale.

With a crash, the weapons rack snapped in two, sending weapons to the floor.

He Lingchuan snatched up several wooden throwing knives and flicked them toward Meng Shan’s eyes and throat.

Meng Shan raised his shield, charged, and blocked them all.

They were barely six meters apart. With his height and long legs, two steps closed the distance entirely.

He Lingchuan grabbed a wooden changdao from the ground and engaged in close combat with Meng Shan once more.

In the blink of an eye, they exchanged over a dozen blows.

Hu Min watched him with wide eyes. “Broken Blade’s really quite skilled, isn’t he?”

Against such an overwhelmingly strong opponent, He Lingchuan dodged every killing strike by a hair’s breadth. A few times, he even met the blows head-on. He knew Meng Shan’s patterns perfectly, and the longer the fight went on, the more fluid and natural his movements became.

One was raw strength, while the other was pure agility. The duel was breathtaking to watch.

The crowd clapped wildly. This was a fight worth watching, but the two combatants themselves no longer heard anything. At this moment, they were focused solely on life and death!

Xiao Maoliang suddenly muttered, “Meng Shan’s slowing down.”

Most of those watching the fight on Arena Seven would fail to notice it, but his sharp eyes noticed it immediately. Meng Shan was beginning to slow down. Compared to when the fight started, his pivots, his strikes, and even the rhythm of his footwork were now half a beat slower.

With that drop, his oppressive aura diminished by half.

At this moment, Meng Shan’s face twisted, veins bulging at his temples.

Sun Fuling said softly, “Meng Shan’s internal injuries are severe.”

Due to how softly she had spoken, only Officer Xiao heard her. His eyes narrowed, and his brow furrowed as he continued to watch the fight.

Did He Lingchuan’s earlier strikes actually work?

They did.

Every time Meng Shan twisted his body, pain shot from the spot where the wooden saber had struck his waist. Every breath sent stabbing agony through his diaphragm. The early strikes had failed to break the armor, but true energy had still burrowed inside him, rampaging wildly.

Only Meng Shan knew how badly his liver, gall, and lungs had been shaken.

His vision had blacked out several times, and he even felt nausea rising.

This is bad. I need to end this quickly!

The man who usually toyed with his opponents like a cat with a mouse now found the fight dragging on too long.

His eyes flicked, and he staggered on purpose, exposing his chest wide open.

He presented a rare opening, and he was sure that this was an opportunity that his opponent would never waste.

He Lingchuan’s saber turned sharply, thrusting toward Meng Shan’s throat.

Meng Shan clenched down the pain, swelled his chest and abdomen, and roared straight at the enemy before him.

The sound was like a lion’s roar exploding beside the ear, and it shook the soul.

Even with his back facing the outer ring of spectators, several commoners right by the edge of the arena collapsed where they stood, falling unconscious right then and there.

He Lingchuan, who faced the roar directly, took the full brunt of the sonic blast. The detonating shockwave was ten times louder than thunder, and it flung him backward.

Meng Shan used the last of his strength, even spraying blood from his lungs with the roar. The moment He Lingchuan was blown back, Meng Shan swept his mace sideways, and it struck its target!

He Lingchuan was sent flying, but even as he was, he somehow managed to let his changdao shoot out from his grasp, sending it flashing toward Meng Shan.

Meng Shan leaned back to avoid it, yet an arc of invisible saber qi shot from the tip, striking him right in the throat.

Gasps erupted all around.

He Lingchuan crashed to the ground over three meters away, rolled twice, spat a mouthful of blood, and failed twice to rise to his feet.

Meanwhile, Meng Shan stood frozen.

The wooden saber clattered to the ground nearby.

Sun Fuling murmured, “He won.”

For several seconds, the arena was silent.

Then, Meng Shan suddenly spewed blood.

And once it started, it would not stop. Blood gushed like a fountain as he toppled forward like a collapsing mountain.

His five organs felt as though they were being shredded, alternating between icy and blazing pain. His vision blurred, and He Lingchuan seemed to have duplicated in his eyes.

The spectators beneath the arena erupted in startled cries.

Most had not even seen what happened. All they knew was that Meng Shan had smashed He Lingchuan aside, only for Meng Shan himself to end up on the ground.

It made no sense to them.

He Lingchuan reached Meng Shan in two staggering steps, and he then pressed a fingertip lightly against Meng Shan’s temple.

Even that tiny touch made Meng Shan collapse completely.

The entire crowd around Arena Seven fell silent, utterly stunned by the spectacle before them.

None of them knew that the two earlier strikes had already dealt Meng Shan grievous internal injuries. That final strike of saber qi simply pushed all the accumulated harm into eruption!

Once, then twice, and finally thrice.

Meanwhile, all He Lingchuan had suffered were external scrapes. Time had favored him.

Clutching his left arm, He Lingchuan yelled toward the medical staff, “Get over here! He needs immediate treatment!”

A’Luo sprinted up onto the arena with his medicine box. Two soldiers helped roll Meng Shan over and recoiled instantly.

Blood was pouring from all seven of Meng Shan’s orifices, and his eyes had even glazed over.

Only now did the stunned crowd burst into thunderous applause, cheers rising like a storm.

As A’Luo worked, he could not resist asking, “How on earth did you do this to him? What happened back there?”

“I got lucky.”

“Your shoulder’s badly injured, too. Let me treat you first.” A’Luo’s words showed clear bias. He Lingchuan was one of his own, after all. As for Meng Shan, he could wait.