Chapter Twenty-Two: Somewhat Angered

His body shifted four feet sideways—though the strain on his frame was immense, Jackal nevertheless managed to evade the attack from the opponent waiting at the three-foot mark. And in that very instant, Jackal launched his counterattack.

At such close range, Jackal’s speed became almost ghostly; though he faced two foes, neither could lock onto his movements. He showed no mercy, weaving with uncanny agility and launching blows from every direction. The incessant sound of fists striking flesh echoed through the air, and the battle immediately took on a one-sided turn.

Because both Liu Kuang and Jackal suddenly fought with reckless abandon, the entire match shifted dramatically, with two of the three ongoing duels reversing course in an instant. Overall, Liu Pan’s side gained the upper hand almost immediately.

This unexpected turn made Yang Jiao, who had been watching from the sidelines, tense with worry. He started forward, intending to intervene. Yet just as he was about to step in, Liu Pan moved and blocked his path.

Yang Jiao’s face darkened; he truly hadn’t foreseen such a reversal. In the end, he had underestimated both Liu Kuang and Jackal.

After all, who would have thought that a gravely injured cultivator could still match two opponents of equal rank? Or that a fighter whose weaknesses were fully exploited could turn the tide and defeat his adversaries? Even more unthinkable was that these two unlikely events would occur simultaneously.

Looking at Liu Pan, who now barred his way, Yang Jiao's heart sank. He had watched the entry-level disciples' matches before, but had never taken Liu Pan and his companions seriously. Now, he realized just how wrong he’d been.

The way Liu Kuang and Jackal managed to reverse the fight, even in such dire circumstances, was beyond Yang Jiao’s expectations. In an instant, he grew wary of Liu Pan.

During the disciple trials, Liu Kuang and Jackal had both fought with wild abandon, while Liu Pan was altogether inscrutable—sometimes reserved, sometimes ferocious, but always emerging victorious with apparent ease.

Perhaps because Liu Pan had conceded in his last two matches, Yang Jiao hadn’t taken him seriously.

As for the elders’ claim that Liu Pan best understood the martial path, Yang Jiao had dismissed it as a joke, especially when Ye Ming had called him “Big Brother.” But now, it was clear just how utterly mistaken he’d been.

“It’s not over yet, don’t be hasty,” Liu Pan said with a smile as he blocked Yang Jiao’s advance. The current situation was both within and beyond Liu Pan’s expectations.

Liu Kuang’s reckless, head-on fighting style was just what would earn him the future title “Mad God.” As for Jackal, forcing his body past its physical limits for the sake of speed was, in Liu Pan’s view, a sign of his shortcomings.

But upon reflection, Liu Pan let the matter go. After all, in his own writings, Liu Kuang was the protagonist. If Jackal could overcome his ingrained battle instincts so easily, wouldn’t he soon surpass Liu Kuang? That simply wasn’t realistic—after all, there can only be one Mad God.

And in truth, Liu Kuang had not yet revealed his full strength; the Desolate Blade still rested within his dantian.

Though now in a state of severe decay, the Desolate Blade was still a sentient artifact. Even so corroded, its power was not to be underestimated.

Blocked by Liu Pan, Yang Jiao dared not act rashly. After a brief hesitation, he withdrew his step, evidently choosing not to get involved just yet.

Because Yang Jiao failed to intervene, and because Liu Kuang and Jackal were fighting with utter disregard for their own lives, the outcome of both duels was soon decided.

The first to end his fight was Liu Kuang, as Liu Pan had expected—after all, he was the hero of the tale, and such prowess was only natural.

Jackal finished only a breath later. When he saw that Liu Kuang had finished first, he couldn’t hide the unwillingness in his eyes, but he said nothing. His body swayed, and he collapsed, trembling uncontrollably—he had truly pushed himself too far.

With both duels concluded, victory belonged to Liu Pan’s side.

Yet despite their victories, both Liu Kuang and Jackal were now spent, unable to continue fighting. This made Yang Jiao, watching from the side, quietly breathe a sigh of relief.

Now, only the battle ring with Ye Ming remained.

Ye Ming himself was utterly bewildered. At first, when he saw Yang Jiao step forward, he thought things were about to escalate. But when Liu Pan blocked Yang Jiao and made him back down, Ye Ming was left frustrated and confused.

What truly astonished him, though, was that Liu Kuang and Jackal had managed to defeat two cultivators of equal level, given their battered states. Though both were left unable to fight, their victory was real—how could he not be amazed?

Yet amazement aside, Ye Ming was thoroughly rattled. For reasons he could not fathom, after the other two duels ended, Liu Pan and Yang Jiao still hadn’t acted; instead, both watched his battle, as if waiting for it to conclude.

“Damn it!” Ye Ming cursed inwardly, not daring to relax for a moment. He was up against three foes at once; a single misstep would mean a brutal beating, with no chance to recover.

In truth, Ye Ming’s ability to endure against three attackers until the other two duels ended was no coincidence.

Liu Pan knew that Ye Ming possessed the strength to do so. For certain reasons, however, Ye Ming could not reveal his true power. Thus, he had struggled on under their assault, unwilling or unable to end the fight quickly.

“What now?” As Liu Pan and Yang Jiao continued to hesitate, Ye Ming grew anxious. He did not wish, nor dare, to reveal his secrets. Yet he could not think of any way to defeat his three opponents, and this left him increasingly agitated.

Agitated, his mind clouded. In that instant, a fist slipped through his defenses and struck him squarely in the back.

Bang!

The heavy blow made Ye Ming shudder, his footing faltering. As his stance broke, more attacks landed; soon, he was utterly overwhelmed, unable to retaliate at all.

Seeing Ye Ming being beaten so thoroughly, Liu Pan couldn’t suppress a sigh. He wasn’t surprised by the outcome; his sigh was only for having overestimated Ye Ming.

Though Ye Ming was a ninth-tier martial artist, he was just a young man from the mountains, with limited training and the simplest understanding of martial arts among the group. To expect him to overcome his own “obstacles” as Liu Kuang and Jackal had was unreasonable.

“All right, you can stop now,” Liu Pan called out to the three still pummeling Ye Ming, unable to bear watching any longer.

Yet his words had little effect. The three only glanced in his direction before resuming their beating, ignoring his call to stop.

Instantly, Liu Pan’s expression darkened. He had clearly seen the trio pause when he spoke, only to continue their assault.

“What’s the rush? The fight isn’t over yet, is it?” came a mocking voice. Turning, Liu Pan saw the sly grin on Yang Jiao’s face.

Earlier, after seeing Liu Kuang and Jackal defeat two disciples, Yang Jiao had been worried. Now, watching Ye Ming being mercilessly beaten, his concern vanished.

Once Ye Ming’s defenses were broken, it would only be a matter of moments before he lost all ability to fight.

Yang Jiao no longer feared Liu Pan. Once Ye Ming was down, Liu Pan would be alone against the four of them.

One-on-one, Yang Jiao had little confidence. But four-on-one? He was certain victory was theirs.

Liu Pan easily saw through Yang Jiao’s thoughts, and his expression grew even darker.

He had never believed that the outcome of a martial contest should be decided by numbers alone; Yang Jiao’s attitude now was truly repugnant.

As for Ye Ming, Liu Pan’s earlier call for them to stop was, in effect, a concession on Ye Ming’s behalf.

Out of respect for the martial path, once a concession is made, the victors should cease their attack—this was not a life-and-death match.

Moreover, Ye Ming was already utterly defenseless; the outcome was settled, and there was no need to continue. Yet the three ignored Liu Pan’s concession, and Liu Pan was now truly angered.

He understood that the three continued only because Yang Jiao had signaled them to do so. His gaze turned stormy as he looked at Yang Jiao.

After all, Yang Jiao’s personality was his own creation. Yet he hadn’t expected that the very traits he’d designed to torment his protagonist would one day be turned against himself, the author.

“Very well, then,” Liu Pan said with a cold smile.

As he spoke, a blue light flashed beneath his feet. In a blink, he charged straight for Yang Jiao.

Yang Jiao, already wary, reacted the moment Liu Pan moved.

He gestured to the three who were still attacking Ye Ming, and then charged toward Liu Pan. In Yang Jiao’s mind, no matter how strong Liu Pan was, he couldn’t possibly overcome him plus three ninth-tier martial artists.

Yet, in the span of a heartbeat, Yang Jiao’s expression changed dramatically.

There were only five or six meters between them. In an instant, the two clashed.

Yang Jiao suddenly felt his arm seized, his whole body lifted off the ground—and then he was sent flying.

With a tremendous crash, Yang Jiao smashed through the wall of the small wooden hut, leaving a large hole, and tumbled inside.