Volume One: The Game of the Manipulators Chapter Sixty-Seven: A Clash of Flesh

Ao Nameless, a super divine beast and Five-Clawed Golden Dragon of the ninth-tier demon emperor class, possessed terrifying power. With the inherited Dragon Pearl enhancing his attack and defense, and wielding the lower-grade divine weapon, the Piercing Spear, once he transformed into battle mode, his strength was monstrous.

“Nameless's strength has grown yet again,” Wu Long remarked with a faint smile, observing the spatial ripples caused by Ao Nameless’s mere transformation.

“Indeed,” Wen Feng echoed with a smile, “I fear that in this state, Ao Nameless could even rival me. With this, our chances of claiming the spiritual treasure are much greater.”

“Haha, even if the spiritual treasure does fall into our hands, I won't fight you for it. Without a special divine weapon or unique technique, an eighth-tier demon emperor stands little chance here,” Man Qian replied with a bitter smile. Zong Jue still possessed a black war blade, but Man Qian, though acclaimed as the most physically powerful, lacked both a good divine weapon and a unique technique. In this realm teeming with eighth- and ninth-tier immortal emperors, he had no real standing.

Hu Changfeng and Luo Changqing blushed, knowing that even one-on-one against Man Qian, they wouldn’t fare well.

Only Qin Shuang sat to the side, sipping wine carelessly, seemingly unconcerned with the situation unfolding.

“Are you ready? I’m about to attack!” the burly man suddenly roared.

Ao Nameless smiled slightly; this man, with his honest nature, seemed to harbor no intentions of sneak attacks. He brandished the Piercing Spear and replied calmly, “Go ahead, I’m waiting.”

“Alright!” As soon as the word left his lips, the burly man swung his spiked mace fiercely, aiming straight for Ao Nameless’s head. No fancy techniques—just brute force.

Ao Nameless was taken aback; he hadn’t expected such a straightforward approach.

“Well then, I’ll play along,” Ao Nameless gritted his teeth, raised the Piercing Spear with both hands, and braced himself to take the blow head-on.

Nearby, a short fellow watched in astonishment, eyes wide. “Is he a fool, going toe-to-toe in brute strength with Bear Gang?”

The white-robed youth curled his lip. “Who cares? If he gets smashed in one hit, all the better. Still, judging by his confident demeanor, this kid’s strength must not be underestimated.”

Bang! The immense clang of metal echoed in everyone’s ears. Ao Nameless gripped the Piercing Spear with both hands, his feet driven deep into the ground up to his waist. Blood seeped from his palms and mouth.

Ao Nameless’s strength was indeed formidable; Bear Gang now felt this acutely. Even as the attacker, striking from above with a weapon suited for smashing, Ao Nameless merely sunk partway into the ground, suffering only minor injuries.

Bear Gang had expected Ao Nameless to dodge using speed, but never imagined he’d take the blow head-on. Furthermore, that single clash left Bear Gang’s arms faintly numb.

“Your strength is impressive,” Ao Nameless praised. “But if you think you can win with brute force alone, you’re too naive.” With that, Ao Nameless’s figure blurred, the spear tip flickering; suddenly, a dozen Ao Namelesses surrounded Bear Gang, all thrusting their spears from different angles.

“Hah!” Unexpectedly, Bear Gang didn’t attempt to dodge. Instead, he let out a roar, and a layer of gray energy enveloped him. The Piercing Spear tips punctured this shield, but once they barely penetrated Bear Gang’s flesh, they could move no further.

“Break!” Bear Gang shouted, swinging his mace at Ao Nameless.

Ao Nameless had no time to retrieve his spear; Bear Gang’s weapon was already upon him.

Left with no choice, Ao Nameless abandoned the Piercing Spear, crossing his arms over his chest as Bear Gang’s spiked mace crashed into him.

Bang! Ao Nameless was blasted thousands of meters away before finally halting. His arms, shielded by robust dragon scales, were now mangled and bloody.

“This kid’s body is tough—if Bear Gang had struck a mid-grade divine weapon just now, it would have shattered,” the white-robed youth observed, secretly impressed.

With a thought, Ao Nameless summoned his inner energy to repair his wounds. Thanks to the inherited Dragon Pearl, he recovered quickly; otherwise, that blow would have left him gravely wounded, if not dead.

“Here’s your spear,” the burly man said, unwilling to take advantage, tossing the Piercing Spear back to Ao Nameless.

Ao Nameless caught the spear and absorbed it into his body. “Haha, sorry. My true weapons are my fists. The real contest begins now.”

He spoke, his figure flickered, and he appeared before Bear Gang, raising his fist for a direct strike—no technique, just raw power.

Bear Gang didn’t dodge; he clenched his fist, unleashing his full strength, and punched straight at Ao Nameless’s fist.

A clash of pure force, devoid of finesse.

Boom! Another thunderous crash. The space around them rippled violently. Ao Nameless staggered back over ten meters, as did Bear Gang.

“A tie?” The short fellow beside the white-robed youth was awestruck. To match Bear Gang in brute force—this man’s strength was terrifying.

“Haha! Splendid!” Bear Gang laughed heartily, absorbing his spiked mace into his body. “Now, this is a real fight! The feel of fist against flesh is damn exhilarating!”

“Idiot,” the white-robed youth sneered, showing clear disdain for such a style of combat.

“Hahaha…” Ao Nameless burst out laughing. “Big guy, my name is Ao Nameless, the Five-Clawed Golden Dragon. No matter who wins or loses today, live or die, I’d gladly call you friend.”

“Friend?” Bear Gang was stunned, then laughed. “Alright! I’m Bear Gang, the Mighty Golden Bear. I’d be honored to call you friend.”

“Let’s continue!” Ao Nameless shouted, then vanished. In the next instant, he appeared behind Bear Gang, landing another punch—still utterly unrefined.

Bang! Again, fist met fist, and again, the outcome was even.

Man Qian stared, mouth watering, muttering, “If only I had an opponent like that—it’d be so satisfying!”

Wen Feng stood beside him, lamenting, “I didn’t manage to secure a spot. We from Darkstar Realm are best suited for this kind of fight.”

Indeed, especially in the Golden Punishment Sect of Darkstar Realm, upon reaching the eighteen-star emperor level, Wen Feng’s body could rival a superior-grade divine weapon. With the Golden Punishment Pearl’s enhancement, such fist-to-flesh close combat would be thrilling. Alas, Ao Nameless had claimed the spot.

Boom! Boom! Boom! From the heart of the battle came the sounds of fists clashing, fists striking flesh. Both Ao Nameless and Bear Gang seemed lost in their combat, oblivious to the onlookers and the wager at stake.

“Haha, Ao Nameless truly is the battle maniac my father described,” Qin Shuang commented, setting her wine jug aside, watching with interest. Aside from mortal realm duels, this was her first time witnessing an immortal emperor-level battle like this—it was indeed spectacular.

Boom! Another thunderous collision. The space around the fighters was riddled with cracks, their violent power stirring up clouds of dust, obscuring everyone’s view.

Though one could use immortal sense or demon sense to “see” clearly, it spoiled the fun. Everyone waited for the dust to settle, eager to witness the scene with their own eyes.

Ao Nameless leaned on his Piercing Spear, body bowed, gasping heavily—his stamina was nearly spent.

Bear Gang sat directly on the ground, his massive chest heaving, equally exhausted.

“A tie?” Ao Nameless smiled, probing.

“Huff… a tie!” Bear Gang panted, nodding.

Zong Jue and Zuo Wen had fought to the death; Ao Nameless and Bear Gang, exhausted, ended in a draw.

“Hmph, you idiot. How many times have I told you, fighting like this is a loss for you,” the white-robed youth scolded Bear Gang in frustration.

Bear Gang merely curled his lip, neither rebutting nor acknowledging him.

“Well, they’re pretty strong—this is getting interesting. Let me have a turn,” said a middle-aged man rising behind the white-robed youth, holding a wine urn. His appearance was slovenly: messy hair, scruffy beard—a classic drunkard, and evidently one drunk for a long time.

“Drunkard?” The white-robed youth was taken aback, then laughed, “I didn’t expect these kids could pique your interest!”

“Drinking all day, sometimes you need to stretch your limbs,” the middle-aged man replied lazily.

“Be careful—don’t kill them all. Leave a few for me to play with,” the white-robed youth teased.

At the mention of killing, a trace of sadness flickered in the Drunkard’s eyes. “I haven’t killed anyone in a long time. If you want to kill, leave them all to you.”

(To be continued)