Rise in the Martial Chaos: Starting From a Martial Arts School
Chapter 106 - 63: He Dares to Kill Me? He Wants to Kill Me?
Just as he pushed himself up on his knees, ready to fight on, a biting blast of force shot toward him, carrying an undisguised killing intent aimed straight for his face!
Shen Lie’s pupils contracted, and the hair all over his body stood on end.
The force of the punch was overwhelming, carrying with it the finality of mutual destruction. It was clearly meant to take his life!
A BUZZ went through his head.
Although the saying for the arena trials went, "life and death are fated, fists and feet have no eyes," most bouts stopped once a victor was clear. At worst, someone might be severely injured, but it was extremely rare for anyone to deliver a killing blow.
Shen Lie had previously considered severely injuring Yang Jing, but he had never thought of killing him. Yet the coldness in Yang Jing’s eyes was now so real it made his scalp tingle.
’He really wants to kill me!’
The moment the thought surfaced, Shen Lie felt a chill shoot up from the soles of his feet to the crown of his head. His earlier indignation and anger were instantly replaced by terror.
He could imagine that if this punch landed, his head would surely explode like a smashed watermelon, leaving him without even a complete corpse.
"No!"
Shen Lie let out a hoarse cry. Survival instincts gave him one last burst of strength as he threw his body sideways, executing a desperate, undignified "donkey roll."
The fist grazed his scalp and slammed into the ground. A crack instantly split the bluestone slab, sending shards of rock flying. The adjacent specialized wooden planks also splintered from the shockwave.
"I surrender! I surrender!"
Shen Lie scrambled away, his voice breaking in terror, rising to a pitch that was no longer his own.
He collapsed to the ground, chest heaving violently as cold sweat instantly soaked his back. He stared at Yang Jing, his eyes filled with sheer terror.
Yang Jing’s fist froze in mid-air. He looked at Shen Lie’s terrified, soul-shaken state, and the killing intent in his eyes gradually faded, replaced by a hint of resignation.
’The opportunity is lost. Now that he’s surrendered, attacking again would be dishonorable. It could even invite unnecessary trouble.’
He slowly retracted his fist, and the imposing aura around him dissipated along with it.
Sprawled on the ground, Shen Lie gasped for air, his heart still hammering as if it would leap out of his throat.
He stared at Yang Jing’s calm, impassive face and felt a chill creep over his entire body.
’This guy is vicious. He actually dared to go for the kill in front of everyone!’
Compared to his own earlier thought of "teaching him a harsh lesson," Yang Jing’s methods were akin to the ruthlessness of tearing out a problem by its roots.
"You..."
Shen Lie opened his mouth, his voice hoarse, but found he couldn’t even utter a single threatening word.
The threat of death from that single instant was branded into his mind, leaving him with an inexpressible fear of Yang Jing.
Below the arena, beyond the railings, the spectator stands fell silent. Everyone was stunned by the heart-stopping scene.
No one had expected the match for first place to end with Yang Jing’s victory.
An unknown youth had defeated Shen Lie, a man renowned throughout Yuhe County as a young prodigy?!
And just a moment ago, Shen Lie—always known for his ferocious power—had been so terrified by Yang Jing’s fist that he’d scrambled to surrender. Many had witnessed his pathetic, broken state.
Yang Jing stood in the center of the arena. His gaze swept over the crumpled form of Shen Lie on the ground and then to the dumbstruck crowd below. He slowly let out a long breath.
’From this moment on, all of Yuhe County will remember the name Yang Jing.’
In the stands outside Arena Seven, the dead silence lasted only an instant before it was drowned by a roaring wave of astonished cries.
Dignitaries and nobles in the front rows shot up from their seats. Some pumped their clenched fists in the air; others instinctively slapped the railings before them. A tide of cheers washed over the arena.
Their voices carried an undisguised excitement, their emotions clearly ignited by the stunning reversal.
They gazed at the upright figure in green on the stage, recalling Yang Jing’s transition from evasive footwork to a sudden, explosive attack. They remembered Shen Lie’s panicked "donkey roll" and his high-pitched cry of surrender, and found it all absolutely brilliant!
This wasn’t just a match; it was a thoroughly satisfying upset!
An underdog that no one favored had just toppled a "sure thing." The dramatic turns were more thrilling than any legend spun by a storyteller.
In other parts of the stands, however, the atmosphere was completely different.
Several men in the training uniforms of the Po Mountain Martial Arts Hall had ashen faces. Their fists were clenched so tight their knuckles cracked, and their lips were pressed into a thin line. Not one of them would say a word.
Nearby, a few of Shen Lie’s friends were sighing in frustration. One of them stomped his foot and muttered a curse. "How did he lose...? How could that kid’s Body Technique be so fast?"
Others stared at the collapsed figure of Shen Lie on the stage, their expressions a complex mix of pity, frustration, and, more than anything, exasperated sighs.
’He clearly had the upper hand for the first few dozen exchanges. How did he get worn down in the blink of an eye?’
’He didn’t even get to use his ace in the hole, and ended up being forced into a pathetic surrender. What a humiliating way to lose.’ 𝙛𝓻𝒆𝒆𝒘𝙚𝓫𝙣𝙤𝒗𝙚𝓵.𝙘𝙤𝙢
Farther away, a few wealthy merchants who had bet at outside casinos on Shen Lie making the arena trial rankings had turned a sickly yellow. The betting slips in their hands were crumpled into tight balls.
’Make the damn arena trial rankings? He got knocked out in the match for first place!’
’They thought it was a sure thing. After all, Shen Lie’s reputation preceded him. Who would’ve thought they’d lose their shirts on some unknown named Yang Jing?’
Cries of shock, cheers, sighs, and whispers mingled together, a boiling cauldron of sound churning outside Arena Seven.
Sunlight streamed through gaps in the crowd, falling upon the arena and stretching Yang Jing’s shadow long. It also seemed to carry the aftershocks of the match, spreading them far and wide.
Zhao Yuman was frozen in place, her feet seemingly rooted to the ground, her gaze locked on the arena.
Shen Lie leaned weakly against the railing, his chest heaving. His normally imposing figure now seemed to wilt like grass after a frost. The sight struck her heart like a heavy hammer.
"How could this be—"
She murmured subconsciously, her voice as faint as a wisp of smoke, so quiet she could hardly hear it herself.
Just an hour ago, she had been laughing and joking with others, absolutely certain of Shen Lie’s victory.
His Mountain-Breaking Fist was so ferocious, and his reputation in Yuhe County so renowned. Yang Jing, on the other hand, was just a nameless newcomer who had only recently broken through to the level of Hidden Strength. By all accounts, it should have been a match with no suspense.
But now, the man in green, Yang Jing, stood in the center of the arena. He was injured, yes, but steady on his feet. And Shen Lie...
It suddenly felt as if something was clogging her chest, making it hard to breathe. Her fingers tightened on her sleeve, knuckles turning white.
Just then, Liu Maolin’s cheers from nearby pierced her like a needle.
"Well done, Junior Brother!"
"That’s the way! Put that Shen Lie in his place! Hahaha!"
His voice was shrill and loud, and every word felt like a stone being dropped into her heart.
Zhao Yuman whipped her head away, her eyes stinging.
It wasn’t that she couldn’t admit Yang Jing was skilled; it was just that the outcome was so sudden, it felt like an absurd dream.
She had bet so much on Shen Lie. Her entire family, the entire Zhao’s Escort Agency, was watching her, waiting for Shen Lie to make the arena trial rankings so she could bring him home.
But now, Shen Lie had lost. And to Yang Jing, of all people.
"Yang Jing."
Zhao Yuman pressed her lips together. It felt as if she couldn’t escape his name; her mind was completely filled with thoughts of Yang Jing.
’A thought suddenly surfaced. If she had agreed to accept Yang Jing’s advances back then, wouldn’t her situation be completely different right now?’
’Why would she have needed to go to such lengths to curry favor with Shen Lie? To humble herself so completely?’
’A brilliant young talent, even more outstanding than Shen Lie, had been pursuing her, and she had pushed him away.’
’If she had brought Yang Jing into her fold, the business of the entire Zhao’s Escort Agency could have expanded by at least fifty percent.’
In that moment, Zhao Yuman didn’t even realize it herself, but a faint trace of regret had unconsciously welled up in her heart.
She just felt her mouth go dry, a bitter taste on her tongue.
The cheers continued, mixed with the discussions and sighs of the crowd, but to Zhao Yuman, the world had fallen silent. All that remained was the heavy stone in her chest, weighing her down so much she could barely stand.