Originally, Nan had planned to take care of Zihua himself—to beat him down and wash away his humiliation. But he hadn't expected Zihua's cultivation to jump to the eighth level of the True Martial Realm in just three days. And now, seeing Zihua with such a powerful movement skill, he knew he still wasn't a match for him.
So much for taking revenge himself. All he could do now was ask Ming to step in.
Ming was at the peak of the eighth level of the True Martial Realm and had trained in several powerful martial techniques. His strength was top-tier—even when going up against weaker ninth level cultivators, he could still hold his own. Among all the Bai family members at the eighth level taking part in the the Sword Token assessment, Ming had lasted the longest against the battle puppet—an impressive five minutes.
With him stepping in, putting Zihua in his place should've been a walk in the park.
"Sure," Ming agreed without much hesitation.
After all, the two of them were already on good terms and belonged to the same faction. Beating up someone like Zihua was a simple favor—he had no reason to say no.
"Great. Then I'll leave it to you," Nan said coldly. "You don't need to go overboard. Just knock out a few of his teeth and break one of his arms. That'll be enough."
"No problem," Ming replied with a smile.
In the past, he wouldn't have dared to lay a finger on Zihua—the young master. But now? Zihua still had the title, but even people within the Bai family couldn't stand him anymore. As long as he didn't kill the guy and just busted his mouth and an arm, nobody would care.
At that moment, Zihua finally "lost" to the battle puppet.
Well—lost was putting it generously. He simply stepped out of the combat zone on his own. His final time against the puppet: 4 minutes and 30 seconds.
"4 minutes and 30 seconds—pretty close to my five minutes," Ming thought. "But he only managed that by dodging the whole time. If it had been a head-on fight, he wouldn't have lasted 4 minutes. And unlike that brain-dead puppet, I don't rely on brute force alone. His movement skill won't help much against me."
Ming remained completely confident. After Zihua passed the trial, he stepped forward. "Zihua, your movement skill's not bad. You got the guts to go a round with me?"
"A round with you?" Zihua frowned.
He didn't even know who this guy was.
"What? You scared, Zihua?" Nan's mocking voice came from behind. "If you're scared, you can always do what you did three years ago—find a hole to hide in! Hahaha~~"
The surrounding members from the various factions all burst out laughing.
Zihua's retreat from a fight three years ago had indeed become a widely shared joke.
Zihua's face turned cold.
The moment he saw Nan, he understood—this guy named Ming must've been brought here on purpose to help Nan get revenge for what happened three days ago.
"So what's it gonna be, Zihua?" Ming asked impatiently, releasing a surge of spiritual energy as he spoke. "You got the guts or not?"
"Peak of the eighth level of the True Martial Realm, huh?" Zihua shook his head slightly.
Not because he thought Ming was too strong—but because, honestly, he found him too weak.
They were both at the eighth level of the True Martial Realm. Ming's cultivation might've been slightly higher, but Zihua had awakened the Supreme Bloodline—a rare existence with his full potential already unlocked. How could his combat strength possibly be compared to that of an ordinary cultivator?
Frankly, Ming didn't even have the qualifications to be his opponent.
Still, using him to test how much of his bloodline power he could control now... might just be enough.
"Fine! If it's a fight you want, then it's a fight you'll get!" Zihua accepted the challenge!
"He accepted!"
"No way—Zihua actually dared to accept the challenge?"
"He's seriously overestimating himself. What does he think this is, three years ago?"
The entire training arena erupted in noise. Most people thought Zihua was being foolish, especially those aligned with the Retainer Faction—they laughed and mocked him without restraint.
Everyone knew Ming had already reached the peak of the eighth level of the True Martial Realm long ago. He could even hold his own against some of the weaker ninth level cultivators.
As for Zihua, based on his earlier fight with the battle puppet, he seemed to have just stepped into the eighth level. The only reason he managed to last 4 minutes and 30 seconds was because of his superior movement skill.
If you needed to rely solely on movement skills to stay alive... Ming, on the other hand, had gone head-to-head with the puppet and lasted a solid five minutes.
The difference in strength between them was obvious.
"He's being reckless," Yun muttered, frowning when he saw Zihua accept the challenge.
Even though the Bai family held a lot of resentment toward Zihua, when it came to outsiders challenging their own, they still stood united.
Yun believed Zihua was being impulsive, but he couldn't step in—after all, sparring and duels between younger members of the Bai family were completely normal.
"Perfect," Ming sneered and thought to himself. "He's still the young master of the Bai family, and once was hailed as the greatest genius in the clan. They even said his talent was among the highest in the entire Maple Empire. If I can publicly beat him down in front of all these people, that's its own kind of glory."
With that thought, Ming drew the battle blade hanging at his waist. "Zihua, I'll let you make the first move."
Zihua didn't waste a single word. He tightened his grip on his longsword, and in the next instant, his figure shot forward like lightning.
Whoosh!
No tricks. No flashy techniques. Just a direct, forceful slash coming straight down—a brutal, head-on attack.
"He didn't even use his movement skill? He's just charging in like that?" Ming chuckled.
"He's being reckless," Yun said again, shaking his head.
An early eighth-level cultivator trying to go toe-to-toe against someone at the peak of the same stage?
That was basically suicide.
Ming sneered and swung his blade horizontally to meet the blow, unleashing a wave of powerful spiritual energy as his arms moved.
Clang!
Blade and sword collided, yet neither side gained the upper hand.
Then came another clang!
Clang!
Clang!
As they exchanged a flurry of strikes—and still, they were evenly matched.
"What the hell?" Ming was stunned and thought. "I'm using nearly eighty percent of my strength here. That should be more than enough to crush any typical cultivator at the eighth level of the True Martial Realm. But even in a head-on clash, I can't gain the slightest advantage?"
As the shock wore off, frustration and anger surged inside him. This time, Ming stopped holding back.
A storm of violent spiritual energy erupted from his blade as he threw everything he had into his strikes.
His blade skill suddenly grew more ferocious, its destructive power increasing dramatically.
And yet—even now—he still couldn't overpower Zihua.
"What the hell is going on?"
"Ming's cultivation was clearly far superior to Zihua's. In a head-on clash, he should've completely overwhelmed Zihua. So why didn't Ming have the slightest advantage?"
"Zihua's strength... is it really that strong?"
The crowd watching around the arena was stunned. Even Yun, a seasoned expert at the Great Perfection level of the Sea Transformation Realm, looked visibly puzzled.
Everyone could see that Zihua was using the Mountain-Splitting Sword Technique—a very ordinary sword technique, low-tier at best, relying purely on raw power rather than any intricate skill.
On the other hand, Ming was clearly using a much more advanced blade skill. Logically, the force he could unleash should have been significantly stronger.
"Just like I thought," Zihua chuckled inwardly. "After cultivating the Bloodline Inheritance Technique, the quality of my spiritual energy has clearly improved. I can now unleash far more explosive power in an instant. Even though I've just stepped into the eighth level of the True Martial Realm, the strength I can suddenly burst out with is already a bit stronger than someone like Ming, who's at the peak of the same level."
"And next..." His gaze sharpened. "You little punk—DIE!!"