"Arena Eight, Zhou Zhiqiang is the victor!"

As the Silver Armor Captain announced the result, many people still had their eyes fixed on Li Mengchao’s position.

He had just severely injured Lin Yue, and the strength he’d displayed was far too shocking.

In contrast to Li Mengchao’s power, although Zhou Zhiqiang’s performance was also impressive, it clearly didn’t have the same stunning impact.

After the fourth match, there was a one-hour recuperation period for the Martial Artists to heal their injuries and adjust their condition.

At the same time, the examiners began to sort through the combat records, dividing everyone into two groups based on their wins and losses.

The first group was the top four victors: Zhou Tong, Qin Yu, Li Mengchao, and Zhou Zhiqiang. They would continue to compete for the higher rankings.

The second group consisted of those ranked fifth to eighth: Xu Guangwei, Yang Jing, Lin Yue, and He Han.

However, Lin Yue was already unconscious from his severe injuries and had been carried off the training grounds.

According to the rules, anyone too grievously injured to continue competing would automatically be ranked last. Thus, Lin Yue became number eight.

The one-hour rest period passed in a flash, and the clamor on the training grounds gradually returned.

The sun was approaching its zenith, heating the green stone ground until it was scorching. The air was filled with the faint smell of sweat and dust.

The Silver Armor Captain once again walked onto the main arena. His armor glinted coldly in the sunlight. He cleared his throat, his voice piercing through the training grounds, "Second group matches, prepare to begin!"

At this moment, only three Martial Artists remained in the second group: Xu Guangwei, Yang Jing, and He Han.

With one person missing, tradition dictated that one of the three would receive a bye. The other two would fight first, with the loser being ranked seventh. The winner would then fight the person who received the bye to determine the fifth and sixth-place rankings.

Generally, the person who received the bye was the one the examiners collectively considered the strongest of the group.

The Silver Armor Captain turned and walked toward the high platform on the east side, where the chief examiner and several other examiners were seated.

The group huddled together, talking in low voices. Their fingers occasionally tapped on the roster as their gazes swept over the three men below.

Xu Guangwei stood his ground, arms crossed, his expression calm.

Although he had lost to Zhou Tong, he had also displayed considerable strength. Now, with his back straight, he radiated a subtle confidence.

He Han’s gaze shifted back and forth between Xu Guangwei and Yang Jing.

Yang Jing remained leaning against the railing, his eyes closed in rest, his chest rising and falling gently.

The discussion on the high platform lasted for about the time it takes to burn an incense stick. Finally, the Silver Armor Captain turned, descended from the platform, and walked back to the main arena with a steady gait.

He picked up the roster and announced loudly, "By decision of the chief examiner and the examiners, the bye for the second group goes to... Xu Guangwei!"

As his voice fell, a low murmur of discussion arose from the training grounds, mostly sounds of agreement, as this was the expected outcome.

Upon hearing this, Xu Guangwei merely gave a slight nod. His face showed no sign of excessive pride; he had clearly anticipated this.

He Han, on the other hand, let out a visible sigh of relief.

Compared to Xu Guangwei, He Han thought Yang Jing was an easy target.

If he could defeat Yang Jing, his rank would rise by one more spot.

Yang Jing slowly opened his eyes, his gaze falling upon Xu Guangwei.

’The examiners giving him the bye clearly means they acknowledge him as the strongest of the three of us.’

The Silver Armor Captain glanced at He Han and Yang Jing, then said in a deep voice, "He Han, Yang Jing, to the arena!"

Wind swept across the training grounds, kicking up wood splinters from the ground.

Hearing the command, Yang Jing and He Han rose and walked onto the main arena together, taking their positions on opposite sides and facing each other.

Having come this far, neither dared to underestimate the other.

Even though He Han saw Yang Jing as an easier target than Xu Guangwei, he knew that anyone who made it this far was no pushover, and he wasn’t completely confident he could defeat him.

"Begin!"

The Silver Armor Captain’s voice had barely faded when He Han lunged forward like a tiger pouncing from a mountain.

He had a sturdy build. He lowered his shoulders slightly, drew his right palm to his waist, and held his five fingers together like a blade—this was the signature martial art of the Black Tiger Martial Arts Hall, the Black Tiger Palm.

His foot stomped on the wooden planks of the arena with a dull DONG, shaking loose a shower of wood splinters. A fierce wave of Qi Force shot straight for Yang Jing’s face.

Yang Jing’s feet shifted slightly. He subtly initiated his Rushing Wave Footwork, his body drifting sideways like a willow catkin, perfectly evading the brunt of He Han’s palm strike.

He didn’t rush to create distance. Instead, he sank into a low stance, clenched his right fist, and a faint, shimmering light appeared on its surface. The fierce Inner Strength of the Mountain-Shattering Fist had already gathered at his knuckles as he threw a direct punch to meet He Han’s incoming attack.

"BANG!"

As fist met palm, He Han felt a heavy, fierce force transmit through his hand, as if he had collided with a rolling boulder. He couldn’t help but take half a step back.

He was shocked. ’This opponent looks so lean, yet the force behind his fist is so solid!’

Yang Jing used the momentum to spin. His Rushing Wave Footwork allowed him to turn with ease, and in an instant, he circled to He Han’s side. His left fist followed, striking like thunder, aimed straight for his opponent’s ribs.

The Mountain-Shattering Fist emphasized one punch for every step, the fist following the footwork. Now, aided by the agility of his Rushing Wave Footwork, his punches became even more unpredictable. Though it was a fiercely powerful fist style, it now carried a surprising swiftness.

He Han hurriedly brought his palms back to block, executing the Heart-Guarding Stance of the Black Tiger Palm, his hands overlapping to protect his chest.

"BAM!"

With another dull thud, He Han was knocked back several steps, his arms numb from the impact.

It was only then that he realized his opponent’s footwork was anything but simple. ’That leg technique isn’t known for its offensive power, but it allows Yang Jing to reposition in an instant! He can always find a tricky angle to throw a punch, making it impossible for me to defend with my Black Tiger Palm!’

Yang Jing’s Rushing Wave Footwork was indeed only at the Bright Energy level. In terms of offensive power alone, it posed no threat to He Han, who was at the Peak of Dark Energy.

But at this moment, the footwork had become the perfect complement to his Mountain-Shattering Fist. With light taps of his feet, his figure darted left and right. He was like a reef amidst stormy waves—his position seemed to drift erratically, but in reality, every movement was to find the optimal point to unleash the power of his fists.