Facing the Middle-Grade Mystic-Level Martial Technique, "Thunder Shock Spear," Mo Qi held his Fire Stick and assumed the opening stance of the Basic Staff Technique. His movements were neither fast nor slow—measured and textbook-perfect.

"Heavens, it really is the Basic Staff Technique!"

The crowd below could no longer bear to watch, unwilling to see Mo Qi’s tragic end.

On one side was a Middle-Grade Mystic-Level Martial Technique unleashed with a Mystic-Level Long Spear. On the other, a Beginner’s Staff Technique initiated with a Fire Stick, something that couldn’t even be considered a Low-Level Martial Technique. The outcome when the two met was easy to imagine.

Just as everyone assumed Mo Qi’s staff would shatter and he would die, and just as Wang Hao was already breaking into a victorious smile...

CLANG!

A sharp clang rang out, the sound of colliding metal echoing in everyone’s ears.

The Fire Stick in Mo Qi’s hand was not destroyed. Instead, it had deflected Wang Hao’s long spear.

"Thunder Shock Spear" had been blocked by the opening stance of the Basic Staff Technique!

"This..." The entire arena fell deathly silent.

Wang Hao’s expression didn’t change as he scoffed, "Nice bit of luck. Let’s see you block the next one!"

The corner of Mo Qi’s mouth lifted. ’Luck? Perhaps.’

"Thunder Shock Three Forms!"

Wang Hao brandished his long spear, stirring up an endless storm.

The spear’s glint flared like a scorching sun high in the sky, continuously building in power.

RUMBLE!

A clap of thunder sounded, and the long spear suddenly vanished, taking Wang Hao with it.

The next second, three spear glints appeared simultaneously—one from the front, one from behind, and one from above—stabbing toward Mo Qi from three different directions.

Mo Qi, unhurried, gripped the end of his staff. He struck with a Horizontal Sweep from the Basic Staff Technique, deflecting the front and rear spear glints in a single move. He then smoothly transitioned, retracting his staff and flicking it upward.

CLANG!

Another crisp sound, and Mo Qi was completely unharmed.

Wang Hao’s long spear never stopped. He circled Mo Qi rapidly, attacking relentlessly.

Mo Qi stood his ground, countering with simple strikes, parries, blocks, and thrusts. He used no complex Martial Techniques, no exquisite Staff Technique, only the most fundamental movements.

But it was these very basic movements that sent Wang Hao tumbling from mid-air. He retreated again and again, the webbing of his hands splitting open as his long spear trembled and hummed mournfully.

"How is this possible! Why can you see through my spear’s trajectory?"

Unless one had fought Mo Qi, one could never know how fast his reactions were or how immense his strength was.

No matter when Wang Hao attacked or how tricky his moves were, Mo Qi deflected them with casual ease.

Moreover, his strength was staggering. The sheer force of the reverberations was more than Wang Hao could handle.

The impression Mo Qi gave him could be summed up in four words: steady as Mount Tai.

He couldn’t find an opening at all.

"Heh, same offer as before. Beg me. If you beg me, I’ll tell you," Mo Qi said with a laugh.

"Don’t be so arrogant! You really think I can’t do anything to you?" Wang Hao said angrily.

Mo Qi smiled faintly, a cold glint flashing in his eyes.

’I’ve tested my abilities enough. It’s time to end this.’

That was right. The exchange until now had just been Mo Qi testing his own strength.

After his trip to the Wailing Abyss, his Cultivation had reached the Nine Transformations into Spirit, Fifth Transformation Nourishing Divine Being. Based on this fight, Mo Qi estimated his strength was comparable to an ordinary Cultivator at the Peak of Divine Refining.

Of course, if he were to encounter an exceptionally talented Cultivator, it would be a different story.

"My turn to attack, isn’t it?"

Mo Qi walked toward Wang Hao with his Fire Stick, raised it, and chopped down.

It was a move so simple even a child could do it, yet in Wang Hao’s eyes, it was utterly unavoidable.

It looked deceptively casual, but its speed was astonishing.

Wang Hao only had time to raise his long spear horizontally above his head in an attempt to block.

DONG!

The deafening crash made everyone in the crowd’s scalp tingle.

Wang Hao was smashed into the ground, and the Gambling Arena completely collapsed, breaking into pieces.

A chasm ten zhang long and one zhang deep extended out from the direction of Mo Qi’s staff. Countless earthen bricks flew into the air, shattering into dust in mid-flight.

’Is that even human? How much power is that?!’

Even the elderly referee from the Punishment Hall, who was watching from the side, felt his eyelids twitch.

How could they have known that the unremarkable-looking Fire Stick in Mo Qi’s hand actually weighed fifteen thousand jin on its own?

Adding Mo Qi’s inhuman strength to that, it was only natural that it would produce such terrifying destructive power.

"He didn’t just get killed by that one strike, did he?" someone asked in a low voice.

"No way. Don’t forget he’s wearing Mystic-Level Armor. He won’t die that easily."

As if to prove his words, a figure flew out from the chasm and hovered in mid-air.

Flight was the mark of reaching the Refining God Realm. Before the Refining God Realm, a Cultivator could at most scale walls and walk on snow without leaving a trace, but that could only be called Qinggong, not true flight.

Only upon reaching the Refining God Realm and being able to communicate with the Power of Heaven and Earth could a Cultivator fly through the air without external aid.

At this moment, Wang Hao’s hair was a mess, his face was covered in blood, and one of his arms was twisted out of shape. He looked utterly wretched, with none of his previous high spirits.

The defensive power of the Mystic-Level Armor was indeed strong, but it only protected his torso.

His limbs and head, which were not covered by the Armor, received no such protection.

"Get down here and fight!" Mo Qi shouted coldly, pointing his staff at Wang Hao.

It wasn’t just Wang Hao who wanted to kill Mo Qi; Mo Qi was determined to kill Wang Hao as well.

Wang Hao’s repeated provocations, his constant crossing of moral boundaries, and his repeated attempts on his life meant there was no possibility of reconciliation between them.

Wang Hao panted heavily, but made no move.

He knew he was no match for Mo Qi. Without the protection of his Mystic-Level Armor, that last strike would have killed him.

Continuing the fight was impossible.

Mo Qi could see Wang Hao’s intention to retreat, but he had no intention of letting him go.

Whether for the desecration of Uncle Niu’s grave or for being forced to jump into the Wailing Abyss, this debt had to be paid with Wang Hao’s blood.

"Mo Qi, I admit defeat this time. But don’t get complacent. You still can’t condense True Essence, so you’re still trash. Sooner or later, I’ll kill you with my own hands!" Wang Hao said, staring at Mo Qi with venomous hatred.

"You don’t have a future." Holding his Fire Stick, Mo Qi crouched down and then explosively pushed off with his legs.

BOOM!

The ground trembled as Mo Qi shot toward Wang Hao like an arrow loosed from a bow.

Wang Hao’s face changed slightly. He wanted to dodge, but it was too late. He could only hold his spear horizontally in front of his chest with one hand, twisting his body to block Mo Qi’s attack with his Mystic-Level Armor.

BOOM!

The Fire Stick made intimate contact with the Mystic-Level Armor. Wang Hao plummeted like a meteorite, crashing into the ground and creating a crater several zhang wide.

Mo Qi descended, and Wang Hao was already getting to his feet.

"You can’t kill me!" Wang Hao roared.

"Oh? Is that so? Can your limbs and head shrink into your shell like a turtle’s?" Mo Qi asked with a cold smile as he strode forward.

Wang Hao froze for a moment, then his pupils contracted sharply.

Mo Qi vanished from his spot. A heart-wrenching pain instantly assaulted Wang Hao.

The jet-black Fire Stick fell, severing both of Wang Hao’s arms at the shoulder.

CLATTER!

The long spear fell, two arms flew through the air, and blood splattered across the ground.

"AHH! My arms! My arms!"

Overcome with grief and fury, Wang Hao screamed and roared in agony.

He couldn’t believe that Mo Qi had actually dared to do this.

"You dare cripple my arms?! I’ll kill you! No, I’ll make you wish you were dead!"

As if he hadn’t heard, Mo Qi muttered, "These two strikes were for Uncle Niu. Desecrating a grave is a crime punishable by ten thousand deaths!"

Then he lifted his staff again and swept it horizontally, breaking Wang Hao’s legs at the knees.

"This strike is for sending people to ambush and kill me!"

Wang Hao nearly fainted. Having lost all four limbs, he lay on the ground like a pile of mangled flesh.

The crowd below was stunned. They had imagined many possible outcomes, but they had never thought it would end like this.

"It’s over. Mo Qi is finished. The Third Elder will never let him go."

"Knowing the Third Elder’s temper, Mo Qi will probably suffer a fate worse than death."

Mo Qi walked over to Wang Hao.

"Beaten like a dead dog by the trash you looked down on. Tell me, what does that make you? The king of trash?"

Wang Hao’s eyes were filled with hatred as he ground out, "My grandfather will not let you get away with this."

Mo Qi shrugged. "Too bad you won’t live to see that day."

With that, he raised his staff and smashed it down toward Wang Hao’s head.

"Stop!"

Just an inch from Wang Hao’s head, the staff was caught in the firm grip of a large, withered hand. The one who had acted was none other than the elderly referee from the Punishment Hall.

"What audacity! How dare you publicly maim a fellow sect member!" the elderly referee berated him. His heart had sunk to rock bottom. With Wang Hao in this state, he, the referee, could not escape the blame. Wang Xinglong would surely hold him accountable.

He had never expected Mo Qi to be so decisive and ruthless.

Now, his only hope to atone for his mistake was to capture Mo Qi and hand him over to Wang Xinglong for punishment.

Mo Qi frowned. "This was a life-and-death match. On the Gambling Arena, each must accept their fate. That is the rule of our Void Sect. May I ask, Senior, how is this ’maiming a fellow sect member’?"

The elderly referee was at a loss for words. But thinking of Wang Hao’s status, he said in a low voice, "Wang Hao was clearly no longer your opponent. When you can forgive, you should. Was there a need to be so lethal?"

Hearing this, Mo Qi gave a cold laugh. "Earlier, when he was clad in Mystic-Level Armor and wielding a Mystic-Level Long Spear, when everyone thought I was sure to lose and die at his hands, why didn’t you step in to stop him? On what grounds are you demanding I spare him now?"

The elderly referee said, "What is his status, and what is yours? Can you even compare to him?"

"Heh, that’s right. He’s the grandson of the great Third Elder, and I’m just a cook who started as a servant." Mo Qi mocked himself, then continued, "But so what? Didn’t I still beat him like a dead dog? Senior, are you trying to openly defy the rules of my Void Sect?"

"You!" The elderly referee was furious. A mere Outer Disciple dared to threaten him? "You’d better know your place, or you won’t be able to bear the consequences."

"Cripple him! Cripple him now! I’ll take full responsibility for all of it!" Wang Hao struggled and roared.

He had lost all reason. The only thing he wanted now was to torture Mo Qi, to pay him back a thousand, ten thousand times over for the suffering he had endured.

The elderly referee hesitated. He didn’t want to bear the responsibility of defying the sect’s rules, yet he also wanted to handle this matter properly and give Wang Xinglong a satisfactory explanation. For a moment, he was caught in a difficult position.

Mo Qi’s eyes narrowed.

"Wang Hao, you don’t really think you’re safe, do you?"

As his voice fell, Mo Qi’s will stirred. The Netherworld Flame flew from his palm, and the Yang Fire flared, causing the temperature of the Fire Stick to skyrocket.

The elderly referee cried out in pain and subconsciously released his grip.

The Fire Stick plunged forward, rammed into Wang Hao’s mouth, and pierced through his skull.

Wang Hao was slain.

’It’s over!’

The elderly referee’s mind went blank. Mo Qi had actually killed Wang Hao right in front of him.

Now, not only was Mo Qi doomed, but Wang Xinglong wouldn’t spare him either.

"AHH!" A furious roar echoed from the depths of the Void Sect.

A streak of light tore through the sky, carrying with it boundless power and rage.

"Who killed my grandson?" Wang Xinglong descended from the heavens like a wounded beast, his eyes glowing with a bloody light.

When he saw Wang Hao’s wretched state, two streams of murky tears fell from his eyes, and he choked on his sobs.

The next second, his gaze fell upon Mo Qi, who was standing to the side, carefully wiping his Fire Stick.

Wang Xinglong knew today was the day of the duel between Wang Hao and Mo Qi, but he had never paid it any mind.

He had complete confidence in Wang Hao, especially since his grandson was equipped with Mystic-Level Armor, a weapon, and Martial Techniques.

Below the Purity Realm, no one should have been able to take Wang Hao’s life.

But he had never imagined that Mo Qi, a new disciple he had never even deigned to look at, would actually kill his pride and joy—his own grandson. And it had been a one-sided slaughter.

"You killed my grandson?"

Mo Qi nodded. "Openly and honorably, under the watchful eyes of all, in a battle to the death. Yes, I killed him."

"What a fine ’openly and honorably.’ What a fine ’under the watchful eyes of all.’ Good, good, good." Wang Xinglong was so furious he began to laugh.

Mo Qi grinned. "You think so too? I agree. A Refining God Cultivation, wearing Mystic-Level Armor, wielding a Mystic-Level Long Spear, and using a Mystic-Level Spear Technique, yet he couldn’t even beat an Outer Disciple like me who can’t even condense True Essence. I’d advise you to hurry up and have another grandson, lest this one tarnish the Wang Family’s name. No need to thank me for taking out the trash. It was nothing."